#casey writes
Text
quiet down ( steve harrington x reader )
summary: you spend the night at your best friend’s house and her older brother steve decides to join you for movie night. somehow, some way, the two of you end up alone and things get heated.
word count: 5.3k
content warnings: smut (18+ only) , afab reader, virgin reader, mutual pining, some angst, oral (both receiving), throat fucking, innocence kink (kind of), praise kink, reader is in high school but they're 18.
just like every other friday night, you found yourself at your bestfriend's house for movie night and a sleepover. it was ritual at this point, she'd pick you up for school that morning and you'd return home sunday evening.
today was not much different except for the fact that Steve, her older brother, would be joining you. His job at Family Video seemed to benefit you guys. you always got the discounts— you’d also get to have first pick of the newly released tapes. When the two of you heard that Top Gun had finally made its way to Hawkins, you begged him to bring it home. normally, Steve would just deliver the movie and you'd watch it in her bedroom but, his condition for this particular film was that he would get to watch too since he also wanted to see it. and you.
Your friend whined a bit at the idea of her obnoxious brother joining in on the movie, since according to her, he hogged the popcorn and talked too much. you, on the other hand didn't mind if he joined in, though you'd never admit it to anyone, you had a massive crush on Steve. That of which showed itself a bit when you made sure to pick the cutest pajamas you owned for this weekend's slumber party. The Head Harringtons were out of town so you settled for something rather skimpy. Lucky for you, your best friend was too oblivious to recognize the extra efforts you'd put in.
the two of you laid out in living room floor talking about the day you had while waiting for steve's shift to end. somehow in the midst of all your conversations the topic of boys came up. she had her high school sweetheart, ricky, who she absolutely adored. you didn't have the same luck as her, which didn't matter much. apart from your crush on Steve, which you obviously couldn't spill the beans on, you didn't have much to talk about.
"come on, there's gotta be someone you like? what about Jason Carver?" she sat up to show the Hawkins High 85' yearbook to you, finger pointing to the picture of the basketball team.
you looked over the picture, eyes fixing on the person standing next to jason, that person being steve.
"ugh, no. jason is so annoying, plus he's all over chrissy this year." you shrugged off her question, reaching out to close the yearbook.
you knew the crush you had on steve was unrequited. you figured if you waited it out, once you went away for college you'd find someone else to spend your time fawning over. though part of you was also convinced that steve was the perfect person for you. he always felt so close, made you feel so safe, but he was always stuck on nancy wheeler or some other girl and you'd continue to be just kid to him. and of course, above everything else, your best friend would absolutely murder you.
it was about this time that steve arrived home. he managed to convince robin to cover the rest of his shift so he could get home to the two of you. he didn't wanna leave you home alone for too long, and truth be told he was excited to be able to hang out with you guys.
you'd been too occupied with your conversation to hear him come in the house. steve rounded the corner to see you laying on your stomach with a pillow stuffed under your chin— your feet up in the air swaying mindlessly.
the position you laid in made him stop in his tracks. he stood silently for a second, taking in the sight of you and the unreasonably small pajamas you'd decided to wear tonight. the little blue shorts you wore had hiked up a bit with the position you were in, showing off the soft curve of your ass. your thighs spread far enough apart that he swore he could see the perfect outline of your cunt. he'd never seen this much of you before, the sight before him making his mouth go dry.
it didn't take long for your friend to notice steve standing silently in the arched entry way. she'd been in the middle of stretching when she looked over her shoulder to see him gawking.
"ahh! Steve, you creep what are you doing home so early?" she yelped, sitting up to grab the nearest pillow to throw in his direction.
"sorry, sorry! " he repeated, stepping to the side to dodge the item sent in his direction. "I got off early so you wouldn't have to be alone in the house." he explained, clearing his throat at the end.
when you noticed him standing behind you, you scrambled to sit up. you yanked the nearest blanket over your legs suddenly regretting the bright idea you had to dress for his attention. he hadn't even looked at you yet, part of you was relieved while the other part of you was bummed.
"okay, fine, but don't creep up on us like that...did ya bring the snacks we asked for?" she spoke, batting her eyes up at her older brother, reaching out for the plastic bag that dangled off his fingers.
steve finally walked into the room, handing off the bag to then go place the tape he brought home into the VCR. why won't he look at you?
"yep, razzles for you and watermelon ring pop for the kid." steve hummed, plopping down on the recliner across the room.
the kid. he always called you that, or some variation of it, but for some reason it was extra frustrating to hear this time. the night had only just begun and you already felt incredibly stupid. you'd talked yourself into the idea that if you dressed up and spent some time with him that maybe he'd see you differently but clearly that wasn't going to happen. not when he wouldn't even look in your direction.
while you argued with yourself silently, steve was doing the same. he wasn't intentionally ignoring you, but he knew that he couldn't look cause if he looked, he'd stare. he took notice of your change in attire, his ego telling him that you dressed that way to catch his eye. if that was the case, you certainly succeeded.
steve had always prided himself in being good to you while also respecting his sister's wishes. if he had it his way, he'd have you but, he knew that wasn't going to work out. didn't stop him from thinking about it though. the image of you laid out in the floor was playing on repeat in his mind. he only saw it for a second but he was sure he had a perfect, practically photographic memory of what it looked like.
you sat through majority of the movie in silence, focusing your attention on the watermelon candy. you had it stuck on your pinky, lips wrapped around it. you'd pull back with a quiet puh! sound every once in a while.
the dimly lit room made it easy for you to remain unaware of the side eyes steve was giving you. he'd been doing his best to stay focused on the film, but he was majorly regretting buying that specific candy for you. every time he'd look over you'd be focused heavily on the movie, eyes fixed on tom cruise while your lips and tongue worked around the candy. his stomach churned knowing he shouldn't be looking at you in the way that he was. he felt awful, not just because you were his sister's friend but because he knew what you were doing was innocent. unfortunately, steve couldn't help the things it made him think about.
your friend had fallen asleep just before the end, snoring in the floor on a pile of pillows. when both you and steve recognized the noises you looked to the middle of the floor where she laid, then up to each other. it was the first time all night steve had looked you in the eyes. the tv illuminating his face enough for you to see his big brown eyes soften at the sight of you. the silence grew when the end credits rolled in, the two of you seemed to be waiting for someone to speak first but no one did.
instead, you got up to carry the empty popcorn bowl into the kitchen. Steve sat back in the chair, watching you walk off. he argued with himself for a minute. this was the first, and probably last time he'd ever get any chance to be alone with you before you left for college in a few months. he knew that if he didn't try now, there'd be no other opportunities. with that, he followed behind you, tiptoeing through the room careful not to wake his sleeping sibling.
you were standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water when you heard footsteps. your stomach dropping at the sight of Steve. he was still dressed in his clothes from work. the navy blue polo hugged his muscles so well, well enough to make your stomach flutter. the way he looked when he walked in made it seem like he wanted to speak so you waited, both hands wrapped around the glass.
steve didn't really have a plan for when he got you alone, he could hardly focus when he saw you there in the outfit you wore. eyes scanning over you slowly, drinking you in.
the slow scan of your body made you cower a bit, sitting the glass down to cross your arms in front of the part of your stomach that was showing.
watching you shy away brought a faint smirk to his lips. he stepped forward, leaving only a few inches between you. as much as he would've loved to ease into it, he didn't know how much time he had.
"steve?" you asked, looking up at him like a lost puppy.
"hm?" he hummed, hand coming up to grab at your chin, his thumb smoothing over the edge of your jaw.
you could feel your heart pounding inside your chest, body frozen underneath him. there was absolutely no way this was happening. no fucking way.
you wanted to speak but no words made their way out. all you did was stand there, big puppy dog eyes staring up at him.
"did you dress like this for me?" steve asked, his hand moving away from your chin, finger tracing the extremely low neckline of your top.
the question made your breath catch, were you that obvious? you considered an answer for a second, before ultimately giving him a sheepish nod.
"ah, use your words." he tutted, finger grazing over the exposed parts of your chest. he couldn't help but smile at the way he could see your nipples begin to protrude the thin fabric, hardening into stiff peaks with just a few light touches.
"yes.. I did— ‘m sorry." you breathed out, eyes dropping to the floor embarrassed by your desperate attempts. you weren’t sure why you chose to apologize, it just felt necessary.
steve didn't reply with words, instead his hand came back up. this time he took a firmer grasp on your chin, tilting it back so that he could duck down. his closeness pulling a whimper from you.
"you've got my attention now, sweetheart. what do you want with it?" he spoke into the curve of your neck, lips planting small kisses up to your jaw.
you stammered a bit, eyes blinking shut.
steve was kissing you.
steve was kissing you.
steve was kissing you.
just as you were about to admit your wants — a slew of word vomit ready to spill from you , your friend began to toss n' turn. the sleepy moan reminding you both where you were. you choked down the speech you wanted to give about how much you adored him, loved him, needed him. instead, you settled for something much more feasible.
"want you.." you muttered, a brave hand coming up to press flat against the already growing bulge in his jeans.
steve was shocked by your sudden confidence, a groan vibrating out of him at the sudden contact. he reached down to grab your wrist, pulling the hand off him so that he could step back. he looked over his shoulder at the girl who was still asleep. sending her a telepathic apology. he knew he was going to pay for what was to come but god he couldn't help it. steve never had the opportunity to be selfish, tonight he was going to do exactly that.
he looked back over to you, then to the stairwell. bringing a finger up to his lips to shush you, his other hand still on your wrist guiding you to follow him up to his bedroom. you did your best to stay quiet, though you could hear your own heartbeat echoing in your ears.
you made it up the stairs and into his room successfully. the second the door was shut, his lips were on you. the kiss was sweet at first, he walked you backwards to lay back on his bed — once you wrapped your legs around his waist it became hungry and desperate. sloppy wet noises echoed around the bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming about your body, slipping under your shirt to paw at your chest.
you moaned into his mouth, back arching up against his touch. you felt yourself become dazed, eager hands finding his body the same way his found yours. you wanted to take your time with him, to let him be the person who took all of you— but somehow admitting to him that this was going to be your first felt embarrassing.
rather than admitting that, you turned the attention on him. tugging weakly at the button that held his jeans together until eventually you got it to pop open. you attempted push his pants down but he swatted them away— his swollen lips working against yours. you wanted to be close, as close as possible, wanted to exhaust every fantasy you'd had over the years but there just wasn't enough time.
"steve," you mumbled against his lips, pulling back to catch your breath.
he took the break to catch his breath too, brushing his messy hair off his face.
"need you.. please" you whined, hips raising off the bed to connect with his.
steve couldn't even begin to explain how badly he wanted to fuck you. he was dying to feel your pussy wrapped around him, but even more than that, steve needed a taste of it. he needed to have his face buried in between the puffy lips he caught somewhat of a glimpse of hours earlier.
"gonna take care of you, I promise." he nodded, kissing you one last time before moving down to be eye level with your sex.
you became a bit self conscious seeing him to close it, even more so when he pulled your shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop. your hands came up to cover your face, thighs clenching together. It was around this that made steve realize you were probably a lot more inexperienced than he'd imagined. he grabbed at your thighs, pressing a kiss to both of them.
"hey.. don't hide from me, let me see you." steve spoke quietly, his tone bringing you some comfort.
you sighed, keeping your hands over your face while slowly parting your legs. steve groaned, his mouth practically watering at the sight of you. you'd gotten so wet he could hear it when you legs parted, a string of slick connecting your folds.
"fuck, you're perfect." he insisted, hands coming down to rest on either side of your puffy mound.
he used his index fingers to spread you even farther apart, licking a long flat strip up the center. the contact causing you to gasp, your leaky hole spasming against his tongue.
"taste so fucking sweet. even better than I-" he mumbled against your sex, pausing between words to press a kiss to your sensitive button. smiling at the way it jumped under his touch. "..- imagined."
"please," you whined, your hands that were once covering your face now gripping at the bed.
he didn't need much more than that— still spreading you open with his fingers, steve began to lap at your hole. the tip of his tongue circling and dipping into the opening, his nose bumping against the tender bud. the new found contact pulled the most pitiful whimpers out of you, your thighs clamping shut around his head.
"steve, oh my god!" you'd almost forgotten about the fact that you needed to keep quiet. for a moment you didn't care but then remembered who was asleep downstairs.
you bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the noises, slippery wet walls clamping down around nothing while steve licked through your folds. he eventually worked his way up to your clit, lips wrapping around the throbbing button. he sucked harshly on the area, pulling a high pitched squeak out of you.
your thighs trembled desperately around his head, hips rutting upwards to hump against his face. he knew you were going to cum, drunk off the taste of you gushing into his mouth.
he kept his attention on your clit, his tongue making circles around it. he let you ride it out however you needed, a moan vibrating against you when you yanked on his hair.
" 'm gonna - fuck - im gonna cum steve" you mewled your words out, orgasm coming with the words spoken.
he kept his attention on you, letting you rutt against his tongue to ride out your orgasm. when you finally stopped trembling so much he pulled away. sitting back on his knees to look down at you, lips swollen and glistening with your remnants.
"c'mere" he exhaled, grabbing loosely at the base of your neck to pull you up into a kiss. the taste of you still fresh on his lips.
after a moment he pulled back from the kiss, smiling at you "see that? tastes so fucking good."
"better than you, imagined?" you repeated back the words he spoke to you moments before this — trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he imagined what you tasted like in the first place.
"yeah, baby. so much better than I'd imagined." he emphasized the last word, knowing that's what you were holding onto.
steve was not expecting anything in return, doing his best to ignore the painful mess going on between his legs. he looked at the clock by his bed, wondering if you two even had any time to do anything else. he was not yet ready to part from you, even if it meant just holding you.
you had other ideas though, sitting up on your knees you crawled forward to where he sat on the bed. his jeans were still on, hung low around his hips, low enough to show the tip of his cock pitching a tent in his boxers.
you watched him with those big wet eyes, ducking down to kiss over the clothed tip.
he hissed lowly at the contact, watching the arousal that soaked through the fabric smear across your lips.
"my turn?" you asked, looking up at him with the softest expression.
even if he wanted to, he couldn't say no to you. after so many hears of knowing him, you knew how to break him. all it took was batting those eyelashes at him for him to give you what you wanted.
"fuck, yes. your turn, baby." steve spoke, lifting his hips up to pull his bottoms off for you.
your eyes practically bulging out of your head at the sheer size of his cock. you knew it was big, it was always visible in whatever he wore, but you didn't expect it to be that thick. the swollen tip of it slapped against his stomach, a bead of pre dripping down the side.
"uh…stevie" you spoke, wrapping your hand around the base loosely.
"hm?" he replied, eyes watching you intently, cock jumping from the slightest contact.
"what do i do with it?" you kept your hand there, thumb tracing over the thick vein that ran up the side of it.
something about the question you asked made him exhale sharply, cock twitching in your grasp. maybe it had to do with the dumbfounded expression on your face.
you didn’t know how to touch him.
“oh, honey..” he whispered, hand coming up to cup your cheek, brows raising slightly. “you gotta put your mouth on it.”
you nuzzled against his palm for a moment, enjoying the softness before ducking down to let the swollen tip prod against you lips.
steve felt a moan get tangled up in his vocal chords— watching you kitten lick over the head of his cock made his body tense up. truthfully, he could probably cum from just this. seeing you treat his cock so sweetly was driving him absolutely insane.
he let you do what you wanted for a minute or two, but you didn’t go past taking short licks across the spongey pink tip. his balls tightening with every wet stroke of your tongue.
if you weren’t operating on short time, he’d have let you carry on for as long as you wanted but he needed more. rather that pushing your head down and risking your likely sensitive gag reflex he decided he’d teach you.
"poor thing, doesn't know how to suck cock?" he taunted you a bit, a lazy smirk playing across his lips.
the torment made your body heat up— you tried to come up with an excuse or reasoning but there wasn’t one. shaking your head no to his question, an embarrassed pout forming on your kiss swollen lips.
“oh, baby..” he sighed, “don’t worry, i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
being the first person to fuck your throat was going to be so fun for him.
he pushed your hand off, replacing it with his own. angling the fat mushroomy tip for your mouth, letting it graze your pretty pink lips.
“spit on it.” he instructed, nodding when you tilted your head in confusion.
you did as you were told, letting a glob of spit drip off your tongue onto the head of his cock. you kept your eyes on him the entire time, waiting for what to do next.
“fuck— good job, just do what i tell you to. ‘kay?” steve breathed out, smearing the wetness around the girth.
you nodded, eyes dropping down to watch him stroke himself. he squeezed it tightly, making long slow strokes that pulled very gruff sounding noises out of him.
steve lifted his hips up, pushing his cock against your pout for you to taste him. instructing you through all of it.
“open up for me, wide.. wider— fuck there we go, good job, baby.” he groaned, eyes fluttering feeling your hot wet mouth wrap around the sensitive tip.
he knew that your gag reflex was probably very sensitive. more than that he also knew that his cock was going to be a lot for you to take, regardless of past experience— so, he was careful not to push very far in. stopping about a third of the way, he kept his hips still , wanting you to do the work.
your hand came up to grab at the base again, this time squeezing tighter. trying your best to mimic what he was doing, making shallow pumps.
“yeah, don’t be scared of it— there we go, just keep doin’ that.” steve moaned out his praises, his hand resting lightly on the back of your head. he had no intention of pushing it down, but he wanted to grab onto your hair if need be.
you caught the hang of it pretty quickly, hallowing out your cheeks to suckle on the half that was stuffed in your mouth.
it took everything in Steve not to lurch forward. he wanted nothing more that to lodge his big fat cock in the back of your throat, but he knew better than to do that. giving the back of your head some encouraging pets when you began to bob up and down.
"just like that, angel." he groaned, jaw hanging open.
he made the prettiest sounds. sounds that encouraged you to keep going, to get more brave with your actions.
slobber started to spill down the sides of his cock. Steve couldn't get over the sight before him.
"fucking hell, get it all wet f'me. " he slurred, cock throbbing in your mouth.
"you look so pretty like this, drooling all - shit - all over my cock. d'you like it? does it taste good?"
the words sputtered out of him, encouraging you to up the ante. you moaned an mhm around his cock at his question before pushing your head down as far as you could get it.
you didn't get very far before your throat started to protest the intrusion, gagging at the feeing of him prodding the back of your mouth. you were determined to carry on though — grabbing hold of his big muscular thighs to steady yourself, you tried to keep going but your throat tightened.
feeling your warm wet throat clench around him made nearly made him whimper.
he knew you were struggling against your gag reflex, he found it amusing how you determined you were.
" s'okay baby, you don't have to make it fit all the way." as much as he wanted you to swallow all of him, he didn't want you to push yourself. he was already nearing his edge, the tears welling up in your pretty eyes more than enough to send him over.
you gargled around him, whining in protest to his remark. you wanted it, wanted to take it.
"okay, alright, just sit there i'll help you fit it in. you gotta relax, let me push it in. whenever, fuck me, whenever you feel like you're gonna gag need you to swallow."
he did his best to explain the technique, hand pressing firmer against the back of your head so that he could begin sliding in. your slippery warm throat spasming around the sudden intrusion but to his surprise he got it in.
Steve reached one hand around to the front of your throat, finger tracing over the bulge.
you wiggled down as closely as you could go, nose buried in the thick patch of hair that grew around his cock. the scent of him was enough to make you dazed, eyes screwing shut to just feel him. feel every inch of him stuffed inside your drool filled mouth.
after some time steve started to rock back and forth slightly, his strokes were short and sweet but you loved it. flatting your tongue against the underside of his cock, swaying it from side to side to egg him on.
"shit.. gonna cum"
that seemed to be all he managed to say before his cock began to twitch violently. you could feel him pulsating inside you, cock remaining lodged in the back of your throat. every lasting drop of his hot sticky cum spilling into your mouth, you had no choice but to swallow it.
he stayed inside for a second longer to catch his breath. easing his way out of you so that you didn't sputter too much. finally having your mouth free against you coughed and hiccuped, using the back of your hand to wipe the drool off your chin.
Steve sat there panting, looking at you, he admired the way you looked. that just-got-fucked look wore so nicely on your pretty face.
"hey, come here." steve instructed, grabbing at your chin to pull you to eye level, planting yet another kiss to your lips.
this one was a bit sweeter than before, he let it linger a minute — but when the kiss ended the air in the room suddenly felt heavy. both of you realizing what just happened, it was a mix of post-coital bliss and existential dread.
you reached for the blanket on his bed, pulling it over your bare half. could feel your stomach doing flips. he was everything you ever wanted, maybe even more than that, yet you couldn't help but feel bad.
steve just looked at you for a minute, taking in the way you looked, thinking back on the way you felt. he contemplated going in for more, but then he remembered the time.
every morning at five, his sister gets up for a run. there wasn't much time left to be spent with you, only two more hours. he didn't have the heart to kick you out, not yet at least.
"Steve." you sighed, the buzz of it all starting to wear off when you noticed how late it was.
he only nodded, moving up to shimmy his boxers back on. he grabbed your discard clothing too, handing it to you. once you were dressed he got into bed, peeling back the covers on the empty side for you to climb into if you wanted.
he let you get settled, dropping an arm around your waist. you had laid facing him, nuzzling your face against his chest. it felt nice to be held by him, even though the pit in your stomach was only seeming to get heavier and heavier.
"it's gonna be fine, I promise... i'm not gonna say anything."
the beginning of his sentence soothed you in some way, but all that comfort got yanked away at the end. you had a secret now. a dirty one. you didn't regret it, neither of you did, but it felt like a ticking time bomb. the idea of sneaking around was exciting, of course, but you knew this was going to be the end of it.
"can we just stay like this for a bit?" you muttered, already dozing off in his arms.
you'd fallen asleep on his chest, the most out of those final hours before you heard the alarm blaring from the next room over. the thin walls working in your favor for once. you sat up quickly, trying to pry his heavy sleeping arm off your body so you could run to the other room before she came upstairs.
"steve.. steve move! " you whisper yelled until finally he turned the other way, groaning at you for disturbing him.
all the sleep leaving you when you heard her echoing a "hello?" from the bottom of the stairs.
you got up and ran into the bathroom, thanking god for the face that they seemed to share one. you bolted from one room to the other, throwing yourself on the mattress, covering yourself with the quilt. you kept your face buried in the pillow so that she'd think you were still sleeping.
to your surprise it worked, tiptoed in to grab her running shoes before worming her way back out.
once you were alone, it all set in. your throat was sore from the prior events, but you liked being able to still feel parts of him. the bruise at the roof of your mouth was going to stick around for a few days. it didn't feel real to you.
after a couple of hours of real sleep, both you and steve seemed to wake up at the same time. it was now around nine am on saturday, the both of you walking like zombies down the stairs to grab breakfast from the kitchen.
"jeez — what's gotten into you two? were you up late?" she looked over you, both of you having the same tired and dazed looks on your faces.
her question made steve cough into the cup of coffee he was sipping. you did your best to remain nonchalant, focusing heavily on the piece of toast you were smearing butter on.
he peered at you over the coffee mug, waiting for his sister to look away so that he could send you a wink. your hands fumbling over the butter knife.
this was going to be so very fun for Steve.
#best friend’s brother!steve#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#Steve harrington x you#Steve harrington smut#stranger things smut#s.h.#casey writes
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The Beast Inside Comes To Help
Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my native language, haha)
Enjoy!
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Darkness.
It was the first thing Wheeljack saw when he opened his optics. There was nothing to see around, and it was impossible to tell which was up and which was down. A thought flashed through Wrecker's processor that he was levitating in space. However, this assumption was immediately refuted: his pedes felt a firm ground under them, allowing the white mech to stand up steadily.
Strange. Where was he? What kind of place was this?
Puzzled, Wheeljack lifted his servo to rub his neck cables and froze dumbfounded. Something was wrong, but what exactly? Why does his frame feel different?
Slowly lowering his servo, the Wrecker stared dumbfounded at what he saw in front of him. His own hands, white with red stripes. No claws. No spiked appendages on the forearms. No fangs in his intake. Wheeljack began frantically touching his body, still not believing in what he saw.
There was nothing. Everything that made him a predacon was gone.
Did that mean he was back to his old self?
Smiling dazedly, Wheeljack covered his faceplate with a servo and lifted his helm up. Then he laughed loudly. At first, his short nervous giggles escaped from his throat, then his quiet laugh turned into the laughter of a maniac released from a madhouse. The Wrecker couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him. He couldn't believe that what he saw was real, that he wasn't a mutilated mech turned into a predacon. Is this really a nightmare, too real to be true? Maybe it was just a hallucination, and now he is lying on the platform on Nemesis? What if he blacked out, exhausted by the tortures of the Decepticons who wanted to find out where the rest of the Autobots were?
Well, they made a little mistake with the choice of an autobot informant. Not to mention that they seriously missed. Although, even if Wheeljack knew where his comrades were, like slag he would have told them.
Damn that one-eyed lunatic who thought he could break him and turn him against his own fraction. May all the Decepticons who killed his comrades fall into the Pits.
Then a sudden rumble like the roar of a wild animal sounded in the dead silence, causing Wheeljack to freeze. He immediately unsheathed his katanas, ready to defend himself from... whatever it was. The "ground" shook, and the Wrecker recognized someone's heavy footsteps, apparently sharp claws grated, and something clicked a little higher up. The white mech pursed his lips, suppressing the fear that showed its ugly head for a second, and put his weapon at the ready.
The footsteps approached, the darkness suddenly opened up, and a beast that had long been considered extinct appeared in front of Wheeljack. A huge white predacon was rushing towards him, menacingly flashing its amber-yellow optics. A spiked tail with thick gray and gold quills curved behind it like a white snake, and gray-golden bird wings with bright red feathers moved on a mighty snow-white back.
Wheeljack gripped his katanas’ handles tightly. Letting the monster get as close as possible, he avoided the blow. Dodging, the Wrecker slashed at the beast's muzzle with all his might, hitting somewhere in the eye.
As soon as the blade of the katana touched the beast’s body, his processor exploded in pain. The mech screamed in surprise and, dropping his weapon, he put his servo to his left optic. The cybertronian felt as if he himself had been hit on the faceplate, deliberately aiming at his organ of sight. A painful growl was heard at the same time as his scream, accompanied by the crash of a fallen body and the screech of metal. Wheeljack sucked air through tightly clenched dentures into the vent systems, trying to endure the pain, and carefully removed his servo covered with energon. Blue. So he's an ordinary Cybertronian. Or not?
What just happened?!
"Slag, that hurts," Wheeljack hissed softly and, blinking, stared at his internal fluid in confusion. "What the..."
His optic was intact. The soft metal of the front plate was the only thing that was damaged, but the pain did not decrease. It was also surprising that the wound that was supposed to appear on the predacon's muzzle somehow ended up on his faceplate.
Slag, the Wrecker thought dejectedly, getting to his feet and picking up his weapon. This is not a dream. This is a slagging nightmare.
The fallen beast rose to its feet again. It turned to Wheeljack and with an angry growl ran towards him again intending to kill him. The white mech froze, trying to figure out how to deal with a leviathan twice his size. His swords and grenades are unlikely to help him, on the contrary, they will only make things worse. He didn't want to repeat the experience with the optical sensor at all. So Wheeljack decided to resort to a really crazy method. Once was enough for him to understand the futility of fighting.
He folded his swords behind his back, closed his eyes tightly and knelt down, humbly bowing his head. There was a surprised growl, then claws gnashed, and the beast fell silent, stopping right in front of the Autobot. It blew a stream of heated air over the white mech, hissing at him in displeasure, and began to sniff him. Wheeljack carefully opened his optics, slightly squinting his damaged "eye", and stared ahead of him in a daze.
It wasn't just someone's optics staring at him. He was looking at himself.
Once yellow optics became blue, the same as his own. The beast in front of him, the predacon, looked at him with anger, rage and... fear. The same fear that the animals having been mistreated usually look with. There was even a hidden hatred for the offenders and a desire to revenge for all the evil that had been done to it.
Wheeljack shook his helm furiously, staring at the predacon in disbelief. How?.. What was that? How could he feel someone else's emotions? It wasn't a simple assumption about how someone who was treated like a monster and who was feared might feel. He seemed to be experiencing the same emotions himself, as if he were a monster himself.
A guess shot through his processor. This predacon in front of him is him. He is the monster.
Somewhere in the distance, a muffled female voice could be heard shouting someone's name.
Bulkhead!
Then there was a loud scream with a screech that Wheeljack instantly recognized.
Predaking.
Miko! Find shelter!
Miko and Bulkhead... They are... here? Then where was the Wrecker himself? And why was he out?!
"Grr..."
Wheeljack blinked and returned his attention to the predacon, who slightly tilted his head, showing a nasty dent on the left side of his muzzle. The Wrecker grimaced a little. Right. Predaking threw him off with his tail. Yeah, that was very painful. The white mech cautiously stood up to his full height and raised his hands in a peaceful manner, showing his non-hostility.
"Hey, Buddy," he said to the predacon. The beast hissed in displeasure. "Okay, okay, I get it, you don't like "Buddy". What kind of name would you like?"
The white predacon hissed again in displeasure and shook its head. Its blue optics looked at him reproachfully.
"Yeah, right. Now’s not the time for giving names," Wheeljack guessed and grinned nervously. "Huh. I'm talking to a predacon. Looks like I’ve Iost my mind. "
The predacon let out a rumble, shaking its head negatively. The Wrecker chuckled again. No, he's not crazy. Okay, maybe he's a little crazy, because he always rushed headfirst into battle, not caring that he might not survive. A monkey with a grenade, as that guy, Agent Fowler, once put it. He was offended, of course, but in a way it was true.
"Okay, okay, I'm not crazy, " Wheeljack gave up, letting out a chuckle.
Miko's voice rang out again, full of genuine horror.
Bulkhead!
Run, Miko! Hide! Bulkhead shouted back.
I’m not leaving you, Bulk!
Miko, I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around!
Wheeljack clenched his dentas. He couldn't remember exactly if there had been any reaction to his appearance from his friends. The Wrecker didn't want to admit it, but... He was afraid. He was afraid that the other Autobots, including Bulkhead, would not recognize him, exposing him to the fate of an outcast. To some extent, Wheeljack was not afraid to be alone, after all, he had been plowing the expanses of space for a long time on his trusty Starhammer. But now, without his Jackhammer, he wasn’t very happy about this outcome.
The predacon approached Wheeljack and cocked its head to the side. It purred lowly, attracting the Wrecker’s attention. The white mech turned to the beast, distracting himself from his sad thoughts. The corners of his lips twitched.
"Well, big guy, looks like you and I are stuck here together, " he chuckled. The beast let out a long howl and poked its muzzle into the Wrecker’s chestplate. To his surprise, Wheeljack understood what the predacon wanted to tell him. "You want to... work together?"
The beast growled again with a nod.
"You are giving me your strength and returning me full control over my body?" The Wrecker raised his optical ridges in surprise, once again amazed that he understood something from this inarticulate speech. "Deal!"
The predacon leaned its head forward, allowing Wheeljack to touch it. Hesitantly, the mech raised his servo and put his hand on the dark gray muzzle.
"Remind me to give you a name, okay, big guy?"
The predacon growled in agreement, nodding slightly so that the white mech's hand would not leave its nose. The beast and the Cybertronian simultaneously closed their optics, trusting each other with their lives.
---
His blue optics snapped open. His whole body trembled, and the internal systems began to disperse the frenzied heat, making its way along the neck cables to his mouth. His fire was bursting out, crackling with displeasure. His energon was seething with rage and a desire for revenge.
Keep talking, keep laughing
One day you'll wish you hadn't...
They wanted to make a monster out of him to eliminate the Autobots. To kill his comrades. His friends. His family. Well, the Decepticons brought his wrath upon themselves by daring to hurt the ones he cares about. And they all will pay for it.
All the people want fire, fire...
His paws abruptly lifted his body, the large boulders flew apart, freeing his wings. Wheeljack shook his head and fixed his sharp gaze in the direction of the fight. The fire in his energon began to boil with renewed vigor at the sight of Predaking.
Maybe it's time they meet their dragon.
And his bright turquoise blast from his mouth hit exactly its target. The face of an Autobot Hunter.
------------------------
Man, sometimes I hate my inspiration. If it hits it won't leave alone until I write the idea down or draw it. But, honestly, it wasworth the effort, hehe)
Of Flesh And Steel AU rightfully belongs to @sugarand-everythingnice
Hope you like it)))
#tfp wheeljack#tfp au#transformers prime#transformers#beastjack#of flesh and steel au#wheeljack#tfp#fandomcaseymix writes#casey writes#transformers fanfiction
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STAY
Summary - Things between you and Chris aren't great. You're hopelessly in love with him (your best friend) and continue to avoid him because of it. But what happens when Chris decides he's had enough?
Warnings - Best friends to lovers, smut (eventually), drunk!Chris, some angst, alludes to depression and lack of self worth
Work Count - 3K
A/N - For all the best friends to lovers who didn't work out. Maybe we'll love each other in another life
You were having the most pleasant dream when he called.
You had rolled over to decline the call when you saw his contact picture taking over your screen and hesitated. Considering it was four in the morning, you decided he most likely had a damn good reason for calling you.
You picked up the phone.
“Hey, Chris,” you mumbled into the phone, voice thick from sleep. “What’s up?”
The other end of the phone was noisy, like he was somewhere crowded. He hiccupped once before breaking his silence. “Were you asleep?” He finally asked, his words slurred and clumsy.
Your breath caught in your throat. “Are you drunk?”
He let out a dramatic gasp, followed by a short giggle. “I asked you first.”
Definitely drunk, then. “No,” you lied smoothly, knowing if you told the truth he would probably feel guilty and hang up the phone. “What’s up?” you asked again, hoping to get a real answer out of him.
Someone shouted something in the background of the call, sending Chris into a fit of slurred giggling. “I’m drunk,” he finally said, as if remembering you were there.
A smile cut across your lips. “Yeah? Mr. I Don’t Drink is drunk, eh?”
He giggled some more at that, occasionally squeaking in that adorable way of his. “Can you come get me? I don’t think I should be driving right now.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Of course I’ll come get you,” you said softly. “Just send me your location, I’m on my way.”
You had your jacket already on as he hung up the call, claiming he was being summoned for another round of shots. You had simply told him he had better not drink so much that he would throw up in your car as he laughed. His laughter was the last thing you heard before the call ended.
Seconds later your phone had pinged with his location: a popular night club among idols.
You’d never seen Chris drunk before, you realized as you slid on your shoes and grabbed your keys from the hook by the front door. He always preferred to be the designated driver, always making sure everyone got home okay, always protecting. Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest, hoping everything was alright and he had just decided to finally let loose and have some fun with his friends.
The club was pretty easy to spot, with the neon lights out front illuminating the name, and the ridiculously long line that wrapped around the block, meticulously corded off with red velvet rope.
“It’s three in the morning,” you muttered to no one other than yourself. “Don’t you people sleep?”
Parking the car a block down, you sent a quick text to Chris where you were and waited.
You weren’t exactly sure why your heart was beating funny in your chest, or why your palms felt vaguely clammy.
Or perhaps a better statement would be you knew exactly why these things were happening but refused to acknowledge it.
In college, you had fallen in love with your best friend. He was your person, but you had never been his. Eventually, the two of you had stopped speaking, and it had broken you to lose so much of yourself along with him. So much that you felt as though you had never really recovered from it.
Until you met Chris.
The very first night you met, he had somehow filled in the gaps that your best friend had left in you, soothed those ancient, aching pains that haunted you day and night. He had you laughing like yourself again, a feat no one had even come close to in all those years afterwards.
So maybe that was why you felt yourself slipping again, letting those rose-colored feelings into your very bones as Chris became a constant in your life, as he pieced your broken soul back together again.
It wasn’t that you wanted to fall in love with Chris, it was that it was virtually impossible not too when kindness and beauty shone from him like the sun. He hadn’t just become your best friend, but your twin flame.
But you weren’t enough, you never had been. He would never notice you the way you noticed him, not when so much of yourself had been ripped to little pieces and he deserved someone… whole.
You hadn’t noticed the tears burning against your eyelids until one danced unbidden down your cheek.
But no matter what, you were determined not to fuck things up this time. You would not let your feelings get the best of you, not like they had previously. You would not let something as trivial as your feelings for him get in the way of the most important friendship you’d ever had.
So you wiped away your tears and steeled your nerves, bracing yourself for when he would join you in the enclosed space of your car, willing the tears back at any cost.
A sharp knock on the car window had you bursting from your solemn thoughts. You immediately recognized the dimples framing the excited smile and the eyes upturned into crescent moons as Chris grinned at you through the glass.
You unlocked the car and he opened the door, swaying slightly as he did.
“Careful,” you reminded him softly, your heart lurching behind your ribs.
In one fluid motion, he threw himself into the passenger seat and slumped back with a groan, the door shutting next to him.
Immediately the scent of him hit you, of alcohol and citrus and beechwood, so playfully boyish and thoroughly him it had your grip on the steering wheel turning white as you fought the urge to lean over and brush away the strands of hair laying across his face.
“How was your night?” you asked him, hoping talking would distract you from your devilish thoughts as you pulled the car back onto the road and began the drive to his place.
“It was pretty good, its better now, though,” he answered, looking at you with a roguish grin, his eyes glazed from the alcohol.
You desperately hoped he couldn’t see the blush that rose up the column of your throat and stained your cheeks.
“Where are you taking me?” He asked suddenly, sitting up straight in his seat.
“Uh… your apartment?” You replied, clearly confused.
He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read as you tried to keep your eyes on the road in front of you.
“Can I come over to yours?” He asked, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. You chalked it up to the alcohol.
Your heart was beating so loudly in your chest and a small, desperate part of you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “Sure,” you said quickly—too quickly. “Although I probably won’t be much fun, I’m pretty tired.”
“That’s okay,” He said, sounding disappointed. “I just… don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Is everything okay?” You asked, nerves on high alert.
Out of the corner of your eye you watched him shrug. “I guess.”
You let out a low chuckle. “That isn’t much of an answer.”
He shrugged again, not responding.
You left it at that.
You easily changed your course on the road and headed towards your apartment. The idea of being alone with him in your apartment had your blood pressure spiking.
Your friendship had always been physical; he loved to hug you and cuddle with you whenever you saw each other, but recently it had gotten much harder to deny the way your stomach churned with butterflies or how your ears got warm every time he touched you.
And right now, drunk as he was… your stomach sank at the thought of spending another night in his arms, feeling as alone as you ever felt.
It had become hard, as of late, to deny your growing feelings. To deny that you wished the way he’d sling his arm around your shoulders and pull you closer meant something more to him than it did.
The truth was you had been ignoring him for the past several weeks. Your feelings made things too complicated, too painful, for you to deal with; not that you even wanted to deal with them in the first place. They were a constant reminder of what you had lost, and that you were letting yourself fall into the same situation all over again.
When you got to your apartment, Chris had no trouble making himself feel at home. He immediately threw himself onto the couch, arms outstretched behind him.
“Want some water?” you asked, dying for an excuse to flee the room, flee from him. The realization left you feeling oily with guilt.
“Yes, please,” he murmured, suddenly focused on a spot on the carpet.
You disappeared into the kitchen without a second thought.
When you returned, you handed him the water and slumped down next to him on the couch.
He sipped from his glass, still studying the carpet.
“Is everything okay or are you just drunk?” you asked cautiously, trying to deflect the seriousness in the room with humor.
He suddenly pinned you with a stare, all traces of alcohol gone, his eyes surprisingly clear. “It feels like you’ve been pulling away from me recently. Why?”
His question left you in a free fall. Your heart hammered in your abnormally tight chest, breathing becoming difficult. “I-I don’t know what you mean-“
“Bullshit, Y/N, there’s clearly something wrong and I want you to tell me. Did I do something?” His voice cracked a bit on the last word, your heart fracturing with it.
“No!” you all but shouted, eyes looking into his and wishing you could heal the pain you saw there. “You didn’t do anything wrong; I’ve just been… stressed recently. I haven’t been sleeping well,” you offered, a small smile displayed across your features.
“Stressed about what?” he pressed, looking intent on hunting down this invisible enemy that was plaguing you.
You shook your head. “It’s nothing—”
“Its clearly something if its causing you to lose sleep,” he said softly but not gently.
You suddenly felt a headache coming on. “Chris, really, I promise, I’m handling it.” A half-truth, if nothing else.
He leaned towards you, brushing a tear from your cheek you hadn’t known was there.
“Please tell me,” he whispered, gazing into you with such softness and understanding you wanted to blurt those three words out right then and there.
But in the back of your mind you remembered the risk, what you stood to lose if you ever told him, and so you kept your mouth shut.
You shook your head, not trusting yourself to verbally respond.
Tears were brimming in his brown eyes when he spoke again. “I hate seeing you like this. Like you’re wasting away. Its like the very life is being poured out of you and you’re putting up these walls…” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what to do…” His voice cracked, the tears suddenly streaming down his face. “I don’t know how to help.”
Your traitorous hands reached out to cup his face, wiping his tears away with your thumbs. You could’ve sworn he leaned into your touch.
You shook your head sadly. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Chris,” you murmured. Because he had helped you, perhaps more than you would like admit to yourself.
While your ex-best friend had left you completely and utterly shattered, Chris was the one to face the woman that rebuilt herself, had helped you piece together the salvageable parts and forge anew what was lost. Together, you had rebuilt your entire world, and somewhere along the way he had become its center. You couldn’t lose that. Wouldn’t. Not again.
A broken sob bubbled from his lips as he stared at you, a strange expression on his face you couldn’t quite place.
“Tell me how to help you,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.
You began to shake with your own sobs, tears streaking down your face as you looked into his honeyed eyes. “You can’t,” you finally whispered, your forehead falling against his.
This touch, this intimacy—it was all you would allow yourself, knowing that any more would have you revealing secrets best kept in the dark.
His large, calloused hands circled your wrists, removing your hands from his face and settling them in his lap. His thumbs gently brushed the back of your hands, sparks flying from his touch.
You couldn’t tell anymore if you wanted him to stop.
“I got drunk tonight,” he began slowly, shakily, “because I knew I wanted to have this conversation with you and I was scared shitless of this very outcome.” A noise that sounded like a sob broke from him as he lifted his tear-stained gaze to yours. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged, fresh tears covering his red cheeks. “You’re the most important person in my life and I know I’m not always… the best at being there, but I promise I’ll be better. I’ll do anything, anything for you to stay. So please—just… don’t go.”
Your heart couldn’t take anymore of this. You were breaking him. You were doing this to the proud, confident, selfless man sitting in front of you.
This man, who was not your ex best friend, was setting his pride aside and begging you to stay in his life, the very thing you would’ve given your very flesh and blood to get before.
You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs that you loved him more than anything else in the world, that you were being this way because you didn’t want to go anywhere, you were doing this for both of you.
But you couldn’t stop the angry, choking sobs that exploded out of your chest as you yanked your hands back.
Chris looked like you had slapped him.
You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of this to happen. Not like this. You were losing him regardless and hurting him to boot. You realized you couldn’t continue down this path, not if you ever claimed to love him.
“Please,” he whispered, pouring all his pain and desperation into the word.
Your heart shattered.
So you did the only thing you could think of and told the truth.
“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t care about you anymore,” you began slowly, not able to meet his gaze which was focused wholly on you. You felt yourself began to tremble as you carefully chose your next words.
“I’ve been avoiding you because I’m falling in love with you, and its… difficult, sometimes, to control my feelings when you’re around.”
You quickly glanced at him, noting how his jaw went slack; his brown eyes, rich like the earth, burned with intensity. But he said nothing, so you continued.
“Its… painful, sometimes, to be around you and realize that I’ll never mean to you what you mean to me, but I couldn’t lose our friendship, not when it’s so important to me—the most important relationship in my life. So, I was determined to accept whatever you were willing to give, no matter how small, because even that was better than losing you altogether. But it’s hard, Chris, it’s so hard, because you’re so incredible and just so… perfect, how could I not fall in love with you? How could I not want more? And I was set on not telling you because of… you know, what happened last time, I didn’t want to put myself in that position again, but I could see you breaking, and I just can’t do that to the man I love, so… yeah. Now you know.”
“You… love me?” the words were barely above a whisper, disbelief etched across his face.
“Falling in love with you,” you corrected him, eyes focused on the floor to avoid looking at him.
Silence filled the room. Finally, he whispered, “Since when?”
You shrugged. “I don’t really know, I guess I kind of just realized it one day when we were cuddling in bed. I realized I could spend the rest of my life like that and I would be happy.”
He just stared at you, letting that awful silence fill the air once more. You didn’t think he was breathing. “I’ve loved you since the aquarium.”
Your blood froze at his admittance. “What?” you demanded softly.
“I’ve loved you since I took you to the Seoul aquarium and you held my hand for the very first time, dragging me from tank to tank telling me random fish facts. I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since.”
You still couldn’t look at him, not believing this beautiful, perfect man was in love with you. Not until he reached out and grabbed your face with both hands, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“Its always been you,” he whispered before his lips crashed against yours.
The kiss surprised you as much as it took your breath away. His lips were soft as they moved against yours, salt coating your mouth as your tongue swept against his bottom lip.
“I love you,” he whispered in between kisses. “Always have.” He kissed you again. “Always will.”
You didn’t realize you were crying even harder until he pulled away, a gentle expression across his features.
“Baby,” he cooed, wiping your tears with his thumbs.
A small laugh bubbled out of you. “Pet names already?”
He silenced you with a kiss.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your mouth, his lips softly brushing over yours.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you asked suddenly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze.
He shrugged, his attention still on your mouth. “I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you,” he said simply.
This time you leaned in for the kiss, and he gladly accepted.
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the way i was like “oh i’m gonna write a little zhuiling oneshot just to get it out of my system :)” anyways i’ve gone insane and written more than i have in the last few months over the span of like… two days
#mdzs#casey writes#i hope that’s my tag#cassian rambles#also hope that’s my tag#zhuiling#lan sizhui/jin ling#jin ling#lan sizhui#it sounds like i wrote a lot but actually it’s maybe like… 7k?#last year was not a good year for me creatively
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New fic: Supernova
This is not posted on AO3 yet because that's scary but you know what let's put it here because why not!
Rating: General
Fandom: Obey Me!
Pairing: Lucifer/MC
Characters: Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos (mentioned), MC (mentioned)
--
Summary: Castiel Nova is an unassuming human who was suddenly thrust into the Devildom one day. One year as a student in the RAD Trans-Realm Student Exchange Program turns into so much more as they get to learn more about the mysterious demon brothers they're living with in the House of Lamentation. What secrets will they uncover, and what impact will they have on these demons?
--
Notes: This is the first thing I’ve published in a very long time!!! I cannot promise a timeline for the continuation of this, as I am a graduate student and so my time is very seldom my own. But I’ve been working on this in the background for honestly probably over a year at this point, and I want to have something going out that is involved in a fandom I’m actively engaged in (sorry Supernatural).
This is in no way canon compliant; this is my own re-telling of the story of my Cas with the brothers. Some things will remain similar (i.e. the major plot point with Belphie and Lilith’s story line), but other things (most notably how pacts are formed) will probably be very different from the canon story.
Cas is non-binary, AFAB, and uses they/them/themself pronouns! Feel free to use extensions to change the Cas’s name to your own Cas/self-insert (Castiel Nova is their full name (I think it is only used once or twice), people alternate between referring to them as Castiel/Cas).
Basically just a shameless re-telling of the game story featuring my Cas that is a shameless self-insert with Lucifer/Cas endgame.
P.S.
I apologize for the kinda lame first chapter title, I’m a microbiologist and this is how they name organisms that they haven’t isolated yet and I thought it was funny. Anyway.
Chapter 1: Candidatus Studentus exchangenes
(pronounced can-di-dot-us stu-den-tus ex-change-uh-knees)
"I notice you’ve been sighing quite a bit, Lucifer.” Diavolo stated matter-of-factly.
Lucifer had a fist balled in his hair as he read through the seemingly endless list of candidates for the student exchange program. They only had a few weeks left to get everything finalized so that Lord Diavolo could begin the preparations with the chosen students from the Human and Celestial realms. While they had no intention of alerting the chosen students until the day of their arrival, negotiations with their superiors, of course, had to commence beforehand.
They’d already finalized the paperwork for Solomon, who was going to be the other exchange student from the Human Realm. He’d had dealings with the Devildom before, so it was easy to get him through. However, there were not many other humans that were as familiar with the three realms as he was. This meant there was going to be a painful amount of discussions, negotiations, and likely headaches for Lucifer to deal with.
So yes, perhaps he was sighing quite a bit, as Lord Diavolo so eloquently put it.
“You know, buried in stacks of paperwork like you are, it almost looks like the documents themselves are heaving a sigh!” Diavolo mused, chuckling to himself.
Lucifer sighed yet again. “You certainly seem to be enjoying this, don’t you Diavolo?”
Lucifer let the file fall from his hand, leaning back in his chair.
“Is it that much fun watching me agonize over a decision like this?”
Diavolo leaned back in his own seat, arms folding across his chest as he regarded Lucifer with a mirthful expression. “Well, if I have to say one way or the other, then yes. I suppose it is pretty fun.”
After yet another sigh, Diavolo let his playfulness slip away as a more serious expression took over his features. “It seems you’ve been having a hard time finding a second human exchange student to follow Solomon, huh?”
“You talk as though you have nothing to do with that.” Lucifer deadpanned. “Whose fault do you think it is that I’m having such a hard time, hmm?”
Diavolo looked away sheepishly, a slight blush creeping across his face. “Is it mine, perhaps?”
Lucifer groaned. “Who else could it be? Seriously… try putting yourself in my shoes, being saddled with such an unreasonable request.”
Lucifer stood from where he was seated, moving forward so his hands were splayed across what little of the desk's real estate was left, as he regarded Diavolo with the most irritated expression he could muster. “If I end up with permanent lines on my forehead when this is all over, it’s your fault, Diavolo.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want that…” Diavolo smirked. “But still… you’re going to do this for me, right Lucifer?”
Lucifer fell back into his seat, defeated. He never could quite contest Diavolo’s desires. His head fell back against his chair, eyes squeezing shut as he fought to ward off an oncoming headache. “Sure. But not because I want to.”
Diavolo let out his own sigh then. “It may not seem like it at the moment, but I really do appreciate you agreeing to do this, you know. And, naturally, I intend to help in any way I can.”
Diavolo rose from his seat, beginning to pace the room. “For example… ah, okay. How about this?”
Lucifer turned his attention to Diavolo, not yet returning to the file abandoned on his desk. “Enlighten me.”
“We’ll make the next exchange student someone completely different from Solomon,” Diavolo stated simply. “It wouldn’t be much fun if we ended up with two humans who were similar, would it?”
Diavolo turned on his heel, an excited expression lighting up his face again. “Oh, and it would be great to have someone who’s good at cooking, too! Then we’d get to sample real human world fare!”
Lucifer groaned again, fighting the temptation to let his head fall against his desk. “Now you’re only thinking about what’s good for you…”
Diavolo lazily swatted away Lucifer’s accusation. “Well, cultural exchange is important, you know! Especially food culture. After all, they say that the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach, right?” Diavolo continued, words pouring from his mouth like a fountain that’s lost control.
Lucifer shook his head. “I think that’s meant more as relationship advice. When you’re trying to reel someone in.” he countered. “Beel’s the only one who’d be happy if we made this about food.”
“It would be nice if we could get a human who’s well-read too, wouldn't it?” Diavolo carried on, completely ignoring Lucifer. “Oh, and who knows a lot about movies, and is well-versed in the latest human world trends…” he rattled on, seemingly stuck in his own head at this point.
Lucifer leaned against his fist, watching Diavolo with complete disinterest, releasing yet another sigh.
“Oh, come now, that sigh was even louder than the others!” Diavolo griped. His half-charming, half-irritating smirk replaced his frown almost immediately as he thought of probably the worst thingto say in his attempt to brighten Lucifer’s mood.
“Oh! Perhaps that was a sigh of admiration because you’re so impressed with my wonderful ideas?”
Lucifer bored holes into the man standing across the room from him. “No.”
He stood up again, this time actually stepping away from the desk. “All right… time for a break. I’m going to open a window.”
Diavolo stepped aside, leaving plenty of room between Lucifer and the aforementioned window. “All right… oh, but do be careful. It’s a bit windy out-”
A great burst of wind surged forward through the window, sending the giant stacks of files and papers flying about the room. The once neat office was littered with all sorts of files, loose papers, and even a few pens and clips that were sent off the desk.
“It’s a bit windy outside today…” Diavolo started sheepishly, nervous gaze watching Lucifer who stood stock still at the window. “I was trying to tell you, but it would seem I was too late.”
Diavolo rushed to gather a few papers that had blown past him.
“Of all the rotten…” Lucifer muttered, pulling the open window back shut. “That gust of wind sent all of the paperwork flying everywhere,” he continued, turning on his heel to lament at the state of his office. “Now this room is a giant mess!”
Lucifer looked to where Diavolo was frantically gathering loose papers, shaking his head. “Worry not, Diavolo. I’ll…”
Lucifer looked down at his feet, where a lone file had landed. It was still completely intact, the wind only knocking it to the floor and not causing it to fly open and come undone like several others.
Was that the reason he felt so compelled to pick it up? Lucifer couldn’t say for sure.
“Hey Diavolo, look at this… one file landed right at my feet.”
He reached down and picked it up, removing the clip and letting it letting it fall open in his hands. The file was on a younger human; they were listed as a university student, studying marine biology. Well read on some things, then. According to all recent records, they lived alone. Ideally, know how to cook well enough to keep themself alive. No criminal records to speak of, not even so much as a detention in primary school. Not to mention their spotless financial records. Mammon could use a good influence…
They were also listed as a musician, having been featured in many performances throughout the Human Realm. Proficient in violin, viola, and piano…
That had Lucifer’s heart beating just a little bit faster than usual, but he would take that admission to the grave.
“All right, done!” Lucifer declared, stopping himself before he could have any other thoughts on the matter. “Decision made. This is the one.”
“Who, let me see!” Diavolo pleaded, rushing over to Lucifer’s side. His eyes scanned across their file in a flash, grinning wider with each line. “Hmm, yes, very good! This seems like a good choice to me.”
Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. “You barely even glanced at the file.”
“I don’t need to, do I? After all, you chose this human. I trust your judgment.” Diavolo beamed at Lucifer, who only rolled his eyes in response as he flipped the file closed, moving to place it atop his desk.
“There you go buttering me up again…”
Diavolo stood where Lucifer left him, lost in thought. Though his glance was indeed brief, it was enough to conclude that this was no ordinary human.
“Hmm… Castiel Nova…” he turned back towards Lucifer, clapping his hands together excitedly. “I have a feeling this human is going to bring real progress to the Devildom.”
Lucifer regarded him with a rather concerned expression. “You do realize that I based my choice on that particular file landing at my feet, right?”
“Nothing that happens in this world is a coincidence,” Diavolo responded almost too easily, nodding his head. “It’s all fate, and it was meant to be. That’s what I believe, personally.”
“Well…” Lucifer turned to gaze down at the now closed file, a million thoughts turning over in his head. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
“Well then, Lucifer-”
Before Diavolo could get another syllable out, Lucifer began wildly shaking his head, crossing his arms for even further emphasis. “Oh no, I’m not doing anything else! This is all on you and Barbatos now-”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Diavolo stopped him, leaving Lucifer looking at him blankly, waiting for him to continue.
“I was hoping to ask you about Belphegor. Is he going to be okay, Lucifer?”
Lucifer crossed his arms over his chest, not meeting Diavolo’s questioning gaze.
“He’s against the whole idea of the exchange program, right?”
“Uh… yes,” Lucifer confirmed, almost appearing uncomfortable. However, he quickly shook that away, replacing it with his typical, neutral expression. “Well, I’ll find a way to work things out with him. Once I’m finished with my work here, I’ll go have a talk with him.”
He laughed softly to himself. “He is my brother, after all.”
“I see…” Diavolo regarded his friend with admiration, a soft smile on his face. “Even down here in the gloom of the Devildom, the bonds you share with your siblings are as beautiful as ever. I hope that never changes. I mean that, Lucifer. From the bottom of my heart.”
Lucifer gave his own small smile in return. “Thank you, Lord Diavolo.”
“Well then,” Diavolo began, walking over to take the file from Lucifer’s desk. “I shall take this back with me to the castle so we may start the preparations for Castiel to join us here in the Devildom.”
Diavolo paused in the doorway, turning around to take one more look at Lucifer.
“Should you need anything, my friend, you know how to reach me.”
Lucifer only bowed in response, and Diavolo took his leave.
~~~
#obey me#fic writing#mc and lucifer#lucifer obey me#diavolo obey me#obey me mc mentioned#barbatos mentioned#barbatos obey me#mc obey me#casey writes#ta da?#thanks for reading if u did!
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Ok, so a thing happened to me at work today and it made me angry. And for some reason the only way I could think of to deal with that (since I can't talk to my team about it because that would be unprofessional) was to write a poem about it. It's not great but I do feel slightly better. I'll be meeting with my manager about it (the actual situation, not the poem) tomorrow so I'm sure I'll feel much more relaxed after that. My boss is fantastic.
Anyway, enjoy!
An Official Grievance
That wasn't very clever, was it?
Writing an email in anger and cc'ing me in
Now your manager is on damage control
Before HR gets wind
You've really told on yourself there babe
Really showed yourself up
Exposed your fragile masculinity for all to see
When I was just doing my job
You hide behind a corporate mask
But I can see the ugly face beneath
So let's cut the crap, shall we?
And call it sexism, like it's always been
You say I rank below you
But you have no problem with my team
If it's only you I do this to
Perhaps the problem isn't me?
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What’s ur take on the boys having kids? Any aus or docs u like?
Kids like biological kids? Nope. Doesn't clicks with my brain for some reason.
Found family, however~
#I don't have any favorites though#I like to write turtles being adults/parent figures#but I don't really like to read about it#Unless it's F!Leo and Casey haha
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Loki's been perfecting his skills and techniques for centuries. He's probably gone through this particular scene thousands of times. But for Mobius it's the first time every single time. He's equally stunned and enraptured by Loki's beyond perfect scientific knowledge which from Mobius's perspective has developed probably in less than a minute. Nevertheless, when the initial shock is over Mobius instinctively trusts Loki with his life.
#loki season 2#loki#mobius m mobius#lokius#loki x mobius#tom hiddleston#owen wilson#loki imagines#loki edit#imagine your otp#otp prompts#writing promt#marvel memes#mcu avengers#god of mischief#loki who remains#sylvie laufeydottir#hunter b 15#casey and ouroboros#mischievous thunder
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*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock*
Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao
It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺
(Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic)
[warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]
The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.
Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal.
They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.
Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.”
And that's that.
Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.
Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.
Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.
And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.
Then there's Leo.
In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.
Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.
He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.
And then Casey Jr gets sick.
It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do.
Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse.
And babies are delicate.
It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire.
They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.
There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby.
Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.
Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’
Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.
It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.
But bad luck is bad luck.
Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.
“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.
Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.
The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.
The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.
Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.
And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.
So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.
When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.
“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.
“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies.
“Let me heal them-”
“No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.”
“Leo!”
“I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!”
Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-”
“I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.
Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.
Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.
That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite.
It's bad.
The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.
He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.
He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.
His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.
All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.
On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.
“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.”
Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.”
“I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder.
“I think your spine disagrees with you too.”
“Shut up!”
“Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?”
Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.
Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.
It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.
There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.
To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.
The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.
He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.
Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.
“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.”
“We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.”
Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.
Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky.
Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.
Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.
Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.
He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.
“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles.
There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent.
Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset.
“What's the matter?” he tries to ask.
“Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?”
“Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.
Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little.
Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.
“Leo.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.”
He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth.
“Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!”
Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey.
“S’okay. We can go back now.”
Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.
Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.
He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.
Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.
He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.
Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.
“April?” he might mumble. He thinks.
“Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.”
Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.
A light in his face.
“Am I dying?” he says. Thinks?
Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again?
“Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.”
Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming?
“Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.”
Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.
Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work.
His arm throbs.
“Ow.”
Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view.
“How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?”
“Uh, my arm hurts a little?”
“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?”
“Hey I did some medical care!”
“You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”
Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one.
“Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.”
“Well. You didn’t.”
“Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”
Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.
“Donnie-”
“Don’t look yet.”
Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response.
No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.
He can feel his shoulder.
He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow.
And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh.
Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out.
“...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?”
“Leo-”
“Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.
For a second Leo doesn’t do anything.
He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head.
He opens his eyes.
It’s gone.
Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath.
Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.
Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.
“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last.
“...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly.
Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms.
"Good. That's good."
Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing.
Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.
Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.
The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.
He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.
“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?”
Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears.
Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply.
“Why are you like this?“ he asks.
“Because it's all I've got... Left”
Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?”
“Put him back under,” April says, deadpan.
“Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.
“I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.
“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”
Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him.
Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes.
“I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.
There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.
He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.
Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.
Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny.
His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.
“Bemused scoff.”
Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.
“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him."
Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total.
"...I've held him more than you have.”
Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”
“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.
“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.
“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done.
“Did you listen to none of what I just said?”
“C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.”
“Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.”
“Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs.
“Go back to sleep, Nardo.”
“Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles.
“I won’t let him fall. Just rest.”
And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.
It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.
Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one.
He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.
The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.
And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.
Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.
He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.
It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.
“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game, is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.
“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time.
But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.
“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.” Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.
“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.
“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.
“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!”
There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.
Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.
“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body.
Leo freezes.
“Mikey. Mikey no.”
“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs.
“Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right???
“Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!”
And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.
Leo shrieks.
He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.
“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is-
… not falling towards the ground at all actually.
The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in.
Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr.
The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.
“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!”
Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning.
“You’re fine, you’ve got this.”
“I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him.
“It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”
Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.
“Ah- what- what does he want?”
“Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”
Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can.
Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.”
Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.
Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling.
Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice.
“I hate all of you,” Leo lies.
Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply.
And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo.
He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.
“Oh fuck-”
“Don’t cuss in front of the baby!”
“Raph. Raph.”
“You’re doing fine, relax-”
“He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!”
Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.
Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.
“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans.
“You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes.
“I had mystic hands on him the whole time!”
“Baby holding is a two hand activity!”
“You literally hold him with one hand!”
“Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!”
“Oh that is so not fair!”
“... Leo watch the little man for a minute.”
Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.
Mikey flees with a yelp.
Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him.
“So, you come here often?”
Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it.
Leo grimaces. “Thanks.”
In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.
Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions.
Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”
And Leo lies.
Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.
“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.
Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.
#rottmnt#Cass apocalyptic series#rottmnt casey jr#rottmnt future leo#I did not mean for this to be so long help#ahhhh i hope this is ok and doesn't come off as weird or anything#Originally it was just going to be Leo's family tricking him into holding the baby but then I got an Idea#and then the idea got Really Really big...#my writing
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Happy Christmas,
Henry
#rwrb#rwrbedit#red white and royal blue#alex x henry#firstprince#userninz#userveronika#chrissiewatts#usersteen#usernuria#userclara#usermegsb#mine*#merry christmas to those who celebrate!!!!!!#this is your canon reminder that henry's holidays are no longer lonely now he is spending them with alex :')#casey's brain was massive when they wrote this letter to alex from henry#bc uuhhhhh writer henry writing alex love letters and poems is exactly what he deserves#anyway to anyone still reading this and still putting up w my gifsets then i appreciate u loads#i hope you all have an amazing christmas🥺
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[ cw: dismemberment / ]
I think a lot about how Leo’s rescue could have easily ended in him losing a leg as the portal snaps shut on the Krang still clutching the limb, or, alternatively, only having Leo’s right arm make it out, still held dearly in his brother’s hand as the rest of Leo is left behind. (The latter hits even harder, as it directly parallels his future self in the worst of ways.)
I think a lot about how so many things could have gone wrong during the course of the movie with even a little bit of a change, but it really is harrowing how much of a coin-flip the entirety of the Prison Dimension rescue was.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rottmnt headcanons#rise leo#dismemberment /#if literally any part of the prison dimension rescue was different it would have ended Very Badly#mikey came in clutch for doing the impossible in the first place#raph grabbing leo and not once letting go was vital#and donnie directly hitting the krang was essential#hell leo having the ability to reach out at all in the state he was in was a miracle#listen I think about the prison dimension a lot if you couldn’t tell#for the next tags:#strangulation mention /#physical trauma induced mutism /#potential death mention /#potential sibling death mention /#barely it mainly focuses on if he lives but /#I also think about how Leo’s trachea could have easilyyy given out as Raph (krangified) was choking him#can you imagine the last words raph hearing from his little brother being I’m sorry?#he’d likely live as the hamato bros are built different but imagine if he straight up can’t talk again after#the bros having no idea what Leo’s plan is but they suddenly feel him disappear with the portal#or also#imagine all he gets out in his hoarse voice is to beg Casey to close the portal before his family HEARS the sudden silence like a knife#even if he gets saved his voice may be wrecked or even gone for good#what am I writing wait-#also for my point on leo losing his arm paralleling his future self#imagine fate being a thing in this world but a VERY situational thing#imagine it makes it so that leo has to lose a limb#but not just that - it also ties his presence directly with the Krang’s - so if the Krang’s somewhere else…so is he
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eddie munson with an oral fixation who can eat you out for hours and hours without getting bored or tired. it just scratches an itch in his brain n he doesn’t understand why.
he gets so into it that he forgets how overstimulating it can be for you. he doesn’t mean to overwhelm you, he just loves feeling your swollen clit throb against his tongue. it puts him at ease.
god— and the taste. don’t even get him started on the taste. he loves it so much, loves seeing it drip out of you so he can lap it all up.
more than that loves fucking you open with his tongue so he can feel your warm wet hole clench around it. he didn’t know eating pussy could feel so good. and be so satisfying for him but he just can’t get enough.
you try so hard to stay still so he doesn’t have to keep your hips trapped under his hands. you try to stick it out for as long as possible..but you’ve cum at least five times and he’s still not done. you don’t even know how he’s still going , how his jaw isn’t tired yet but your whole body is writhing. your legs feel like jelly and you just can’t keep up no matter how hard you try.
you just came down from that last one and you feel like there’s no life left in you, your pussy is on the edge of going numb. you tap on his shoulder and try to wiggle away, whining when he pulls you back to him.
“eds.. please, s’too much.” you whimper out breathlessly.
he doesn’t pull away, not completely. looking up at you with those big wet eyes, mumbling against your swollen and achey clit. “i know baby , just give me one more. i know you have it in you, can you try f’me?”
how could you say no to that?
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So it turns out the latest update in @somerandomdudelmao‘s apocalypse comic has been living in my head, and when that happens I need to get it out, so ~900 words of sad it is!
~~~~~~~~
Donnie is good at birthdays. He has been once he was old enough to understand the concept. It's a point of pride.
Specifically, he's good at presents. According to his data, most people who fail at presents do so because of the guesswork they seem to think needs to be involved. He's never understood the point of that. Data and hypotheses, certainly, but why guess when a definitive answer is available after a simple direct inquiry?
"What do you want for your birthday?"
Early on, the presents are easy. Art supplies. Comics. Stuffed animals. Things he could hand to Papa in an easily followed list format, or obtain for himself once they all got old enough to start safely leaving the lair and venturing into the city above. It's simple and straightforward and so, so easy to get right.
(Of course, he always has an annotated list of his own desired gifts to provide to his brothers; if he's solved the guesswork issue, he may as well make things easy for them too. Plus, that method ensures he gets what he wants.)
Things start getting a little more complicated as he and his brothers get older. Art supplies and comics and stuffed animals are still very much appreciated, and he's documented his brothers' tastes well enough to know exactly what they like, but the answers to his simple direct inquiry are different.
"Dee, can you help me plan this mural out? I think I have enough space, but I could use a hand with the measurements."
"Donton, my half of the day is gonna be a Jupiter Jim marathon, and I need you there. Without your laptop." A beat. "But you can pick one of the movies if you want."
"Hey Donnie, you think you can help me out fixing up the gym? Things just stay put longer if you weld 'em."
After a few years of documentation, Donnie spots the pattern. His brothers appreciate physical gifts from him, certainly, but that's not what they want anymore. What Donnie's family wants from him is time - time outside the lab where he spends a good amount of his days, time spent in conversation or shared activity or simply in the same room. It's not as easy as finding the right physical gift, but if that's what they want, then he's more than happy to provide. Now that he's discerned the pattern, it's just as easy to give his brothers what they want, and Donnie can continue to maintain that he is Good At Birthdays as a point of pride.
~~~~~~~~
The Hamatos don't do birthdays anymore. There's no time in the apocalypse, no supplies, and Donnie is one of the few who actually keeps track of the calendar date. The apocalypse certainly has its share of anniversaries, a list that only grows the more people they lose, but birthdays are no longer celebrated.
With one exception.
Casey Jones Junior, their collective adopted kid, is young enough that birthdays still matter - should still matter. They do their best to keep him safe and keep those days calm and happy for him, despite everything happening around them, and while they don't always succeed, they at least try.
And damn it all, Donatello is still good at birthdays.
"Casey Junior!" He greets the kid with a grin, leaning on his bo like it's not both an inconvenience and a humiliation to need to rely on it in order to stay upright.
"Uncle Tello?"
"Since I'm not very good at guessing, I'll ask straight out." This is not entirely true - he has a list of potential gifts for Casey drafted, with 98% certainty that whatever Casey asks for will align with one of them - but he requires that confirmation to move forward. A certainty in a world where certainty is in short supply. "What do you want for your birthday?"
"My...ah." Casey's expression falls and he looks away, gaze fixed on the paperwork in his hands. Donatello says nothing, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room in order to give Casey space. "You...can do anything," Casey starts.
"Pretty much, yes." Material issues aside - spirits know he'd have a cure for whatever the Krang had infected him with if those weren't a concern.
"I want you to stay alive," Casey says, and Donnie's smile freezes in place as Casey looks back up at him. "Can you do that?"
Damn that two percent uncertainty.
"Ah. Of course." He shrugs, as though he doesn't know exactly what Casey is asking for, and pulls up a holographic display of a calendar. "According to my calculations, I will be alive next month, which means I'll be here for your birthday." Not talking about it won't solve the problem, but it may salvage this conversation. "So! What's an actual gift you want?"
"I want you to be here." Casey's gaze finds a point on the floor, and Donnie falls silent. "Not just for a month."
No. No, he needs something concrete - something he can act on - he knows how long his list of responsibilities is, but he still feels stymied, rushing up on the end, and he needs something he can do- "But it's not a gift," he replies, a last-ditch effort he's fairly certain is bound for failure-
"No. No, it is."
As always, all Donnie's family wants from him is time.
And now, at the end of his rapidly-shortening life, it's the one thing he can no longer give them.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt donatello#somerandomdudelmao#cass apocalyptic series#rottmnt casey jr#fic#I wrote this with a wicked case of vertigo#so if it doesn't make sense I'm blaming that#breaking that writer's block WIDE open#writing
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Currently obsessed with y/n and bestfriend!skz going camping and as the others are roasting marshmallows and wreaking havoc around the fire pit Chris pulls you off to the side to finally confess how deeply in love he is with you as the sun sets. You walk back to the others wearing his jacket and both grinning like idiots and it’s hyunjin that first notices how red Chris’s ears are and how you can’t stop staring at his leader with big doe eyes like he just gave you the moon on a string. And that night you two are the last to leave the fire pit and go off to your respective tents, but Chris pulls you closer and says he’d rather sleep outside in the cold than be away from you right now so you invite him back to your tent where you spend a majority of the night whispering and giggling back and forth, sometimes kissing each other as though you had all the time in the world, until Changbin starts shouting across the camp ground for you two to shut up and that’s how you end up falling asleep listening to the steady beat of Chris’s heart.
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The Lesbians doing each-others make-up meme but its these two idiots!
This also inspired a one shot, which you can read on AO3 [here] by @veritas-dolos 💖
#TMNT 2012#raphael hamato#Casey jones 2012#rasey#meme redraw#was really weird not giving raph his mask but#happy with it#lesbians doing makeup#veritas-dolos#its been a long while since something i drew inspired some writing#but they have been so lovely to me and where very complimentary about my art process#so go check out the one shot#its like a little collab#be the change you want to see in the world (more rasey content)#anyway everyone’s taking about Halloween and stuff so this skull makeup in very in right now this was totally a seasonal decision ahahah…….#okay it wasn’t but shush#AAAAAAAA SOMEONE WROTE SOMETHING BASED OF MY SILLY IDEAS I AM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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Y/N: You’re full of good qualities, Raphie
Y/N, pointing at his chest: This, for example.
Rottmnt Raph, touched: M-my heart?
Y/N:
Y/N: No, I meant your man tits. But your heart it’s also a good quality!
Raph:
#this y/n goes also by casey jones#tmnt x reader#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt headcanons#tmnt headcannons#tmnt incorrect quotes#giulia writes
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