#in the fact that pushing someone to that ledge and over doesn't mean you or really anyone else involved in/with it is safe from being | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blaisenova · 8 months

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how not to talk someone off of a ledge

Miguel O'Hara likes to go up to the roof of Spider-Society to think. What about? That's no one's business but his own. Though, unfortunately, Peter doesn't seem to agree.

or:

Peter B. Parker REALLY doesn't know how to talk someone off of a ledge.

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my first TRUE atsv work on here!

it's a bit of an exploration into miguel and the way that he reacts to things in atsv because i think it's really interesting. angry man? aggressive man? no, just stressed and afraid. plus can you really blame a guy for having a bit of a breakdown when everyone keeps pushing all of his buttons and doesn't stop even when he makes it VERY clear that they should?? he needs to learn how to handle his feelings better (read: learn to TALK ABOUT THEM AT ALL) and everyone else needs to learn when to BACK OFF. i'm looking at you peter. i love you so so much but you know how to push miguel's buttons and you USE THAT KNOWLEDGE.

you also get a bit of a parental miguel moment because he is soft for children and i will not be told otherwise. idiot parents or not, miguel would do anything for little mayday. apologies again for if any of my spanish is off at all. i'm fairly advanced but there's still some stuff i struggle with. if you speak spanish, please feel free to correct me! i am always always open and willing to learn!

i should warn you that there's some very brief religious exploration at the very beginning of the work, but it's not the main focus by far so i haven't tagged it. there is, however, a deep exploration of miguel's suicidal thoughts, so please watch out for that!

as always, the link to this work on ao3 is in the reblogs if you prefer to read there like i do, and thank you so much for reading!! <3

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A peculiar fact of life, as undeniable as the sky being blue or the sun being a star, was that the wind rushed with more and more desperate urgency the higher up into the atmosphere you got.

Of course, Miguel knew, logically, why that was – there was less friction at higher altitudes, so the air was able to travel more freely – and he knew, even more logically, that it was stupid to try and find some sort of bigger meaning in something; that it only ever made him feel even more small. But, sometimes, despite knowing it was stupid and that he was indescribably tired of trying to find meaning in the meaningless or humanity in the inhuman, Miguel would get caught up in his own head, and he would begin to wonder if, maybe, the wind at the top of Babylon Towers pulled at him so desperately because it was trying to bring him over the edge. As if it knew that, even though he could catch himself, he wouldn’t. As if it knew that, if he just got one sign that he was meant to fall, he’d let himself.

It shouldn’t have meant anything, that the earth was functioning the way that it was meant to, especially since Miguel was the furthest thing from a spiritual person, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d like to pretend to forget the way that he’d been raised.

Miguel didn’t believe in a god.

Maybe it would have been easier to blame all of his woes on some higher power that had written his suffering into the stars millenia before he was born, but it felt like a shitty excuse for all of the things that he’d done to himself. It was supposed to make him feel better, to know that it wasn’t his fault that everything he touched fell apart, but all it did was make him feel trapped; suffocated. Who would want to be written into a destiny like this?

No, Miguel didn’t believe in a god.

His mother had raised him to be Catholic; fearing of a God with a capital g that had the power to save and destroy him all at once, but Miguel had always thought that his father had possessed that same exact ability and there was nothing all too godly about him. Having power didn’t make you a god, he’d decided, and the sentiment had only been made to feel more and more true as time went on. After all, he had power, and he was even further from god than his dad had been.

Miguel didn’t believe in a god.

But he would be a liar if he said that there weren’t still times that he wanted to break down and pray to a higher power – that either didn’t exist or loathed him completely – to make his pain stop. It was stupid, and childish, and Miguel thought he’d grown out of the urge the first time he realised that he had the power to stop the pain. Miguel was no god, though his life was in his own hands, for better or for worse, so he’d stopped praying. Even when he could think of nothing else to do but plead, Miguel did not pray.

Nevertheless, as his legs hung off of the edge of the roof of Babylon Tower’s – Spider Society’s carefully built and refurbished headquarters and, also, the location of what used to feel like home – Miguel could only silently ask of the wind to do what he was too afraid to.

There was no afterlife. That’s what he was counting on.

Each inhale burned his lungs, and he couldn’t be sure if it was because of all of the pollution in Nueva York’s atmosphere or if it was just because he was trying so hard not to burst into tears. Daring to take a breath would be to invite a sob, and Miguel was far too tired to cry any more tears, so, instead, he stilled his chest until he could no longer, then sucked in as quick of an inhale as he could before stilling once more.

There weren’t even stars anymore. The lights of the city were so blindingly bright that they drowned out the entire sky. Before figuring out how to jump universes, Miguel had never seen a star except for in pictures. Before he knew how beautiful they really were, it hadn’t really bothered him; he couldn’t have known what he was missing without having seen it for himself.

Even the most high definition of screens couldn’t capture the way that a million stars dappled the sky like freckles, twinkling and dancing; unmoving yet ever-changing.

The first time Miguel had seen the stars – really looked at them – on Earth 47219 (he could never forget), he’d been frozen in place. It felt as if he was being gazed upon by the universe itself, and he was staring right back; unabashedly marvelling at them. He remembered feeling small, and that was hardly a new feeling to him but he’d never felt it quite like he had in that moment. It wasn’t something he was being made to feel by another person, and, somehow, that had made it okay. He was small, but small in the way that he never got to be; small in the way a child was, or should have been.

And, really, stars shouldn’t have been the thing to wow him; after all, there was an entire, infinite multiverse with billions of versions of himself and every other person. The scope of the infinity of a single universe shouldn’t have compared to the scope of the infinity of the multiverse that contained it, but they were both infinities, weren’t they? So, in the end, they were the same, right?

Nevertheless, there was something about being faced with the natural vision of space’s endlessness that didn’t compare to computer generated strands of code that simply painted a picture of what infinity might look like. Nothing could be such a wholly genuine picture of boundlessness other than the real thing.

As Miguel looked up at the sky now, though, and was met with nothing but a blank grey-blue, he almost felt even smaller than he did when looking up at the stars. Small, but in the way that he was used to feeling; small, but in the way that made him afraid.

There were more Spider-People resting within the confines of the building beneath him than he would ever bother to count, so why did he still feel so alone? Infinite universes, infinite people, infinite opportunities, and, yet, Miguel had never felt so lonely. He’d searched for a solution to the hollowness once before, and he’d only found great loss – a loss he shouldn’t get to grieve when he was the one who’d caused it. Why weren’t the people he had here enough for him? Why couldn’t he just believe that Gabriel loved him, and that Xina no longer loathed him for how he’d hurt her?

None of it was ever enough, and, at a certain point, Miguel had to admit that it wasn’t something lacking in anyone else that left him so empty; it was the fact that he tore himself open further and further each day in search of anything to fix him and was bled out in the process.

Infinity really was an unfathomably large concept. How could anyone be expected to stop the bleeding of a wound that was ever-expanding?

The wind whistled loudly in his ears, almost deafening. It urged him ever closer to the edge and the great fall that could swallow him up if he’d let it. It felt like a comfort; an assurance that maybe everything could be okay, even if only in those brief moments before it stopped, though that was a bit of a comforting promise, too.

The wind, thousands of feet in the air on top of Babylon Towers, was so loud, in fact, that Miguel missed the sound of footsteps approaching the door until it had already swung open and it was too late.

“Miguel?!” a voice shouted over the whipping air current.

Miguel’s shoulders grew even more tense, if possible. He peered over his shoulder, scowling at a certain Spider in a fluffy pink robe before he turned his attention back to the cityscape before him. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend that the passing headlights of cars and the faraway lit up windows of apartments were a starscape; one that didn’t inspire such unfathomable fear.

“Hey, man, what are you doing up here?” came the call once more, and Miguel tucked his head down as he hunched over.

“Avoiding you,” he shouted back, voice whisked away by the wind, but Peter seemed to hear him anyway.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it!” he said, and Miguel was sure he could almost hear a laugh.

He grumbled, twisting his body just enough so that he could glare at the intruder without breaking his neck in the process. “I was.”

“Yeah, well, you know how it is,” Peter called, stumbling forward against the wind to unceremoniously plop himself down next to Miguel with a huff of exhaustion. He scooted himself over, pressing his shoulder against Miguel’s – which Miguel narrowed his eyes at and leaned, ever so slightly, away – and swung his feet in the open air with an almost irreverent glee. “Spidey-sense takes me all sorts of places that I’m not invited.”

As Miguel opened his mouth to tell Peter off, he felt a small hand press against his arm, and he looked down in horror at the bright eyes and wild red hair of Mayday parker. With one hand, he took her hand into his own, then gently brought up his other to cover her eyes. His gaze immediately darted back up to her father, who he flashed his fangs at unabashedly in a snarl.

“Peter, did you bring your sho- Did you bring your baby up here?” he seethed.

And Peter, in all of his carefree naivete – which Miguel knew wasn’t fair to think when he was well aware of all the hurt the other Spider had gone through to get here – had the gall to shrug. “She needed the fresh air!” Then, after a sniff, he corrected, “air.” Then, another sniff, and his face screwed up into one of disgust. “Actually, I’m not even sure I can call this air. What do they do in your dimension, man?”

Having enough, Miguel hissed out, “Ay, pendejo, ¡cállate!” and he carefully removed his hand from May’s face to give her a fangless smile. “Hola, criatura pequeña,” he cooed, and her hand wrapped around his finger even tighter as she beamed back up at him. “Está bien. Tu papá es un idiota. ¡Sí! ¡Sí! No tiene ningún cerebro. No. Es muy tonto, yo sé. Yo sé.”

She babbled up at him in glee, and Miguel couldn’t help but to laugh, rubbing his thumb over her little hand as he babbled back.

Apparently deciding that he’d had his fill of being left out, Peter joined in on the laugh a bit awkwardly. “Hey, Miguel, I-”

“¡Cállate!” Miguel hissed again, shooting the other man a glare once more, though far more muted now that Mayday could see. “We’re having a conversation.”

And, seamlessly, he shot back into a stream of lovingly spoken Spanish. “Sí, me entiendes, arañita, yo sé. ¿Puedes decir ‘¡qué lástima!’? ‘¡Es una pena que mi papá sea tan estúpido!’” He hissed the last word with a pointed glare at Peter, knowing the man would know what the word meant, and, sure enough, he frowned. Then, Miguel immediately turned his attention back to Mayday, voice sweet once more. “Está bien, criaturita. No permitiré que nada te pase a ti. Lo prometo.”

“Miguel, please,” Peter interrupted again, tone desperate. “Don’t teach my daughter how to trash talk me in Spanish. I don’t know what I’ll do if I accidentally upset her one day and she starts prattling off fluent Spanish insults that I only half-understand. Or, god forbid, if it happened to M.J. instead. She took French in school, Miguel.”

More than happy to oblige, Miguel sat up, looking Peter straight in the face, and, in the same sweet tone as he’d used with Mayday, deadpanned, “You’re a moron.”

May blew a raspberry up at her father, giggling delightedly.

To his credit, Peter did manage to laugh, albeit a bit breathlessly, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, alright, I guess I did kind of ask for that.”

“Do you ever think?” Miguel shot back, voice finally falling back into frustration, though only enough for Peter to pick up on.

“Well, I do have a degree-” he began only to cut himself at the look he was receiving. “Look, she’s fine!” he insisted, gesturing down to Mayday who was pulling at the yarn ends of her Spider-Man hat as they were whisked in every which way by the wind, secure in her carrier. Peter moved his hand to lay on Miguel’s shoulder, and Miguel immediately batted him away, which earned a frown but, fortunately, a bit of distance. “It’s you that I’m worried about, Mig.”

At that, Miguel’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

A finger pointing to his own skull, Peter smiled a bit grimly. “The Spider-Sense never lies.”

“Right,” Miguel drawled, rolling his eyes and biting down the rising sense of dread in his stomach. “Let’s put complete trust in your magic psychic abilities you got from a Spider over two decades ago. What could go wrong?”

“It hasn’t failed me yet,” Peter hummed. Out of the corner of his eye, Miguel could see the way his hand gripped onto Mayday’s when a particularly strong gust of wind hit their backs and minutely pushed them forward. It was a small comfort. Then, “You never answered my question. What’re you doing on the roof, man?”

Questioning why all of the people he associated himself with now were insufferably stubborn – and, more importantly, what that said about him – Miguel leaned forward, elbow on his knee and head resting on his hand. His other hand was still occupied by a little Mayday hand, and he wouldn’t dare let go until she decided she wanted to. His eyes peered over the edge of the roof, at the staggeringly long way down – so high that it almost gave him vertigo – then shifted slightly up to focus on the buildings that littered the view beneath them.

“Thinking,” he finally replied after a long pause. “I came up here because nobody bothers me.” The words were punctuated with another glare, albeit somewhat half-heartedly.

Smiling a bit sheepishly, Peter leaned back onto his free hand. “Well, you can’t win ‘em all.”

“You make it very difficult to win any,” Miguel grumbled.

“Hey, I have my moments,” came the retort, backed by a snort. Then, “y’know, if you really wanted to be alone, you could’ve just locked yourself in your room, angsty teen style.”

Unamused, Miguel didn’t grace the suggestion with any more than a scoff. His eyes were once again drawn downward, fingers curling upwards around his jaw to dig into his cheek minutely, and he hummed in thought, the sound barely inaudible over the rushing air. The sheer wind cut right through Miguel’s suit, and he shivered as a chill ran over his skin, though the feeling wasn’t entirely unwelcome; a reminder that its silent urges hadn’t given up on him just yet. Unfortunately, though, neither had Peter, who leaned over to briefly brush his shoulder with his own, brows furrowed.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at that drop, Mig,” he said. Then, with a bit of a nervous laugh, “I mean, I’ve looked at drops plenty of times, but in a ‘I think that’d be fun to skydive off of’ sorta way, not… whatever this is.”

“I’m not talking about this in front of a child, Peter,” came the immediate retort.

“Miguel, she’s a baby,” Peter insisted. “She can’t understand anything that’s going on.”

“You don’t know that,” Miguel insisted in turn, his brows furrowing. He tore his eyes from the ground below to peer at May with thinly veiled concern.

“You can’t keep cutting everyone off, Mig,” he tried again. If Peter was trying to meet Miguel’s eyes, he wouldn’t let him, keeping his full attention on Mayday instead. “You keep finding excuses to not talk about things, and I-”

“It’s not an excuse,” he interrupted, a bit too quickly.

“Miguel-”

“Don’t make me argue with you in front of Mayday,” Miguel practically demanded, finally meeting Peter’s gaze with a vulnerability neither of them were prepared for. “Please.”

Startled, Peter’s eyes went wide, and he immediately went silent, mouth, mercifully, snapping shut. Miguel heaved in a breath and forced himself to look back out at the city. He steeled himself, forcing the weakness back out of his mind, but wasn’t quite prepared for the gentle way that Mayday squeezed his finger. The feeling made Miguel perk up a bit, and he snapped his attention right back onto the baby, on unreasonably high alert. May’s big blue eyes shifted from their hands to Miguel’s face, and she babbled at him, a strange worry in her gaze, too.

“Is- Is she okay?” Miguel asked, hating the way that he stuttered without meaning to.

With a hum, Peter glanced down at the baby, shifting her hat so he could see her face. She glanced up at her father, making more nonsensical sounds that somehow still resounded as urgent in Miguel’s ears, but Peter just smiled at her softly, petting her head. “Seems like she’s worried about you, too, big guy.”

“Wha- Worried about me?” he echoed, voice strained. “Peter, she’s a baby. She can’t understand anything that’s going on.”

“You don’t know that,” Peter countered, giving him such a stupid grin that Miguel couldn’t help but to frown.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Use my words against me,” Miguel hissed. “That’s not funny.”

Holding back a smile, Peter raised a hand and tilted it from side to side. “It’s a little funny.”

“You brought your baby onto a roof, Peter,” he reminded almost exasperatedly. “Don’t try to act smart now.”

“I have a degree-”

“In what? Incompetency?”

Giving an irritated laugh, Peter shook a finger in Miguel’s direction. “You know, you are a very difficult man to talk off a ledge.”

“I’d say you’re doing a fantastic job,” Miguel said with false sweetness, then pointed towards the ground thousands of feet below, “if that’s the direction you want me to go.”

“Okay. Alright. I’ll give you that one because it was actually kind of funny-”

Miguel scoffed, letting his head fall back onto his hand. “How kind of you.”

“-but I’m being serious here.”

“Wow,” he deadpanned. “First time?”

Seemingly not as amused now, Peter frowned, and his hand gently fell back onto Mayday’s head, who squealed delightedly despite the confrontation. “Alright, you’re pushing your luck now.”

“I am?”

“How is it even possible for one guy to be in this bad of a mood?!” Peter half-shouted, throwing his head back in frustration.

Again, Miguel scoffed, and his head fell to one side to stare at the other man, unimpressed. “Would you like your answer in the form of a list or an essay?”

“I’d like an answer at all, actually,” he said desperately.

“Ah, now that’s asking too much of me,” came the response, and Miguel turned his gaze away once more.

Gawking, Peter sputtered for words for a moment before pausing, falling silent, then trying again. “Are you impossible to talk to on purpose? Jess says it’s on purpose, but Ben… Well, actually, I don’t remember what Ben said.” He laughed awkwardly, waving a hand. “It’s kinda hard to focus on the words coming out of his mouth when he’s basically a clone of me. Or- Or literally a clone of me, actually. Isn’t that freaky? Poor guy. But the point is that it was probably the same answer. Everyone thinks that-”

“Are you done?” Miguel finally interjected, glaring with every bit of vitriol he could muster, but Peter wasn’t impressed.

“I could be,” he hummed, “or I could keep going. I didn’t think you were going to answer the question, and someone’s got to fill the silence.”

Now it was Miguel’s turn to gawk, and it took a few blinks for him to muster up the wherewithal to actually answer. “You are so childish.”

“Sticks and stones, Mig,” Peter mused. “I haven’t even gotten started. I could talk for days, if you let me. Next topic?”

Still holding onto both of their hands, Mayday squealed and bounced a bit in her carrier with a spitty razzberry, and Peter immediately smiled, drawing a preemptive groan from the man by his side. “Mayday!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I could write a book about Mayday. She’s only a baby, but she really is sophisticated, you know. She’s a baby with layers! With complexities! I know I’ve already shown you all of her pictures, but-”

“Ay, Dios, enough!” Miguel hissed, his free hand running through his hair and his eyes wide with exasperation. “Yes, it’s on purpose. Because I want to avoid this!” He gestured between Peter and himself vigorously. “This drives me nuts, get it? You drive me nuts. I don’t want to talk, and everyone seems to get that but you.”

An exasperated laugh fell from him, though he gently squeezed Mayday’s hand to assure her that everything was okay. “I came up here because I didn’t want to talk to anyone, Peter. Do you not get that? Do you not understand that I don’t want you here?” He pointed a clawed finger in Peter’s face, mouth open in a snarl. “Listen to me closely because I need you to understand this before you get hurt. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.

“If you want to talk to me about work,” Miguel continued, “or if you want to talk to me about Mayday, or M.J., or anything other than this when I’m not trying to be alone, then, please, be my guest. But I am not talking about this.” He pulled his hand to his chest roughly, the fabric of his suit getting caught on the talon he pointed directly at himself. “I will not talk about this. Leave me alone.” Then, more insistently, “leave me alone.”

For a moment, then, there was silence, only filled by the whistling rush of the wind around them and Miguel’s heaving breaths. His nostrils were flared in rage, hand hanging in the air, but his anger faltered when he finally caught sight of the look on the other man’s face; a chill ran over him that was almost worse than the one caused by the roaring wind. Beside him, Peter wore the most impassive expression Miguel had ever seen on him, and the look, admittedly, scared him a bit. His hand fell back to his side, and his brows quirked upward in quiet unease as his eyes darted between Peter and literally anything else.

“Miguel,” Peter finally said, and his tone matched his face, “I’m not just going to leave you to kill yourself on a roof.”

And, all at once, with a startled and impossibly frustrated bark of laughter, the fury returned to Miguel’s chest, chasing away the chill of fear and concern that had previously gripped him. Gently, Miguel slid his hand out of Mayday’s grasp and, less so, stood to his feet.

Immediately, Peter’s eyes widened, and he half-shuffled to get up himself, stumbling onto one knee. “Wait. What are you-”

Without a word, Miguel stepped off the edge and into the open air, a strangled screech following him.

“Miguel!”

A horrified face popped over the edge of the building, where Miguel’s talons dug into the metal plated siding, and he couldn’t help the bitter sort of amusement he found in the reaction. Served him right. The thought was chased away as the wind continued to pull at him, beckoning him downward, but Miguel didn’t give in to its pleas. There was a strange sort of satisfaction to defying what was asked of him both by Peter and by the very world, though such nauseating satisfaction was probably what had kept him around for so long in the first place; whenever the promise to himself to be useful in his wretched existence managed to fail him. Maybe, for now, bitter contentment could be enough.

He snarled up at the other man, pointing at him with his free hand. “I’m not riding the elevator down with you.”

And, with that, he loosed his grip on the building a bit, allowing himself to slide down the side, followed by a half-enraged, half-relieved shout of, “yeah, fuck you, too!” and an even quieter, “don’t repeat that, Mayday.”

#blaise writes #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #mayday parker #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 comics #spider man 2099 #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction #fanfiction #cw: suicide #i do love peter so so much but also i think sometimes he pushes miguel's buttons a bit too much #like i know he means well and that miguel can see and appreciate that but also goddamn he doesn't know when to stop sometimes

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undertale-writing-times · 2 years

Note

Hey, I have an idea that I definitely haven’t been overthinking!

How would Nightmare,Killer,Dream,Axe and Cross react to a S/O who has large feathered wings , but one of their wings is badly misshaped from a old break that never healed properly. (Also, semi-irrelevant, but they’re a monster not a human, and are very tall-)

They’d never talk about it, but eventually after so long they open up. Turns out they were pushed off a ledge by some pranksters and couldn’t catch the wind with their wings before they hit the floor. They never went to get medical care for it though because they were embarrassed by it back then. They obviously regret their decisions now though as their wing is always sore , locked in a uncomfortable position from the way it healed. Sometimes the wing will randomly start hurting really bad, so much that they get dizzy and have to sit down and wait it out. Also they obviously can’t fly anymore.

Other than that though, the feathers are suuuper soft, and although the broken wing is mostly stiff, they will still wrap their one working wing around their skellie lover for a hug or while they’re sleeping. And if they’re ever caught out in the rain they’ll use their working wing as an umbrella for them, holding it stretched over their head so no rain gets to them.

Also, they love for people to play with and pet their wings! It’s soothing to them, and they will close their eyes and purr. As long as they don’t try move the broken one too much, or else Y/N may snap at them and get a little annoyed (it doesn’t last long, they usually apologise about a minute later)

(Sorry for this being so specific! I’ve just been thinking about this a lot .feel free to change or miss out any details.Also if I requested too many characters or a character you don’t wanna write feel free to miss some out. And if you don’t wanna do this ask then just ignore this altogether- I just thought that this was fun and could be very wholesome.)

Hey, don't worry about it! It was a really fun ask and I had a wonderful time writing it ^^ I did take out Cross though, I'm still not really... into him. Still thinking about his character and all that.

Nightmare: When he learns the reasoning behind your broken wing, or at least incorrectly healed wing, he feels anger. So many people think that they're allowed to do whatever they want, just because you're a monster! Humans and monsters are both bad. That is something that Nightmare learned... Another thing that he learned was the fact that your wing often hurt you, and he would rather... that not happen. He starts to learn a lot of things about different bones and the way that they can break. He remembered one time that Killer broke his arm, so honestly, he remembered a little about it. One day, after you went to sleep, he put something over your soul. He took it from another AU, it would stop you from waking up and pretty much your soul disconnected from your body. Anything that happened to it, you wouldn't feel... in the morning when you woke up again, your body felt... different. Of course it was planned! He worked everything out himself, and when you woke up, your wing wasn't hurting anymore. Sci had to help them a lot with that... it was troublesome, but he didn't mind going through that trouble if it was for his datemate. Someone that he, of course, loved. If you get mad at him for doing it without telling you, he would have said that he did it like that for a lot of reasons. The biggest, just so you wouldn't be worried. Now relax... he wants to go for one, and I mean one single, fly. He wants to see what happens.

Killer: Killer knew about your broken wing before you even told him, it was pretty easy to see the damage done to it, really. He sometimes liked to call you two broken bone buddies! Even before you two got together... he loves to cuddle up into your wings, and sometimes wishes that you could put both of them around him, but he doesn't want to push you cause, you know, that might hurt you? Even so, he still likes to play with your feathers. It's relaxing for him he says, and grounding? It helps him remember where he is cause you're the only monster that he's seen in a long time that has wings! So if you're here, everything must be alright. When he learns the reasoning behind your broken wing, he lets out a little sound then nods a little to show he heard you "I've had a few broken bones myself" he tugs his shirt up, showing the rib. One of them was missing a piece "It broke when I first came to this group, lost the piece. Totally sucked... broken bone buddies" he lightly teases, but also he was showing you something that he hadn't shown anyone! He didn't like to... show weaknesses, you know? This was a weakness. Sometimes when he got too excited, moved too fast, or his soul went too fast or hard his chest would start to hurt. So hey! He cares about you. Yay :D

Dream: Dream is, shockingly, really good at taking care of wings! He says because he used to have a pet dove. He would take care of them very well, and it helped him get ready for you! Not that you're, you know, his pet or anything! He didn't mean that at all, more just you had wings like a dove! Unless you didn't like that then you didn't! Uhh... anyway! He will help get your feathers in order if they're ever messy, and he buys you a special pillow for your damaged wing and even offers to share his magic with you so he could heal it correctly. It would take a lot of his magic energy, but he could easily heal it and be 100% the next day! The idea of you being in pain all the time always makes him so upset... sometimes he gets headaches because of the amount of time that he was in stone, and his mind goes cloudy/blurry at times, but he didn't think that that could compare to yours at all. When he learns the story of what happened to your wings, and you of course, he couldn't help but feel sad and... hurt and just mad! How could someone do that to you? He didn't even know the person and he already didn't like them. When you cover him up with your good wing while cuddling, or when it's raining, he gets so flustered and will always cover his face with his hands "Y-You don't have to do that for me, Y/n" he would tell you, but he really likes the fact that you do... it makes him feel loved and really good about himself. Now! If you do accept him healing your broken wing he will do it then you would have to take care of him while he was trying to get his energy back... he might complain about it and say you don't need to, but it's the best idea to do it.

Axe: Axe knows about the fact that your wing is broken, and you don't even have to tell him not to touch it cause he understands what it's like to have something that's broken and hurts when you touch it. Whenever you start to hurt because of your wing, he'll often lean against you, or rest his head on your lap, and start to purr loudly. It's something that he does when he's happy, but also something that he does when he wants to try to make people feel better. Sorta like a cat, you know? If you tell him you don't like it, he will stop, but he looks so lost and sad that it's, honestly, sad to see him so upset. When he learns the reasoning behind your broken wing, you literally have to stop him from trying to go out to find the people to kill them. It's, you know, bad cause he wouldn't be able to find them. Still allowed to be annoyed, though! After that he's gonna be really protective of you, and I have no idea how tall you are, but if you're taller than him, he's really easy to fluster. It's kinda adorable. He nuzzles up against you a lot, purring and nuzzling into your wing. He loves how soft they are and will often be seen nuzzled up into them while trying to sleep. He's literally drowning in your scent every time he does that, and he loves it. He wants literally nothing else. Ever. Just put your wing around him the best you could, and he would start to flipping vibrate.

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countrymusiclover · 2 years

Text

7 - Let Training Begin

Part 8

She's Human or Weapon

@tyrionsprincess30 @groovy-lady @logolepsic-insomniac @bigbendyhorns @the-big-bad-klaus

This morning Charles got everyone up earlier to start training for when we would face off against Shaw. Pulling the grey sweatshirt over my head I lean on my elbows staring off into the fields until someone comes to stand with me. "So what exactly did I walk into the other night. Did you kiss my brother?" Raven said kinda of load so I shoved my hands over her mouth seeing Charles on the lawn talking to Erik about not challenging himself enough. Shifting my eyes back to hers I mumbled under my breath. "Ssshh. No I didn't - I mean we almost did. But keep your voice down." Lowering my hands I bite my lip getting suprised when she throws her arms around my neck in a hug. I break the hug seeing that she's still smiling. "Nothing happened between us, Raven. Plus he can't like me - my own mind plots against me everyday." She intertwined my hands with hers, giving me a weak smile. "I think you're mistaking my brother for someone else. He won't break your heart. Oh, I should set you guys up together." She squealed jumping up and down until Charles called my name. "Aurora, it's time for your training!"

"I've noticed that you and Erik believe that you can't use your powers without pain or anger. But I think there's another emotion locked inside." He pointed towards a statue that was at the end of the driveway. "See that. I want you to lift it in the air and bring it down here to us, understand. Good luck, remember I'm in here." He tapes his forehead stepping behind me when I take a breath. Raising my hands in front of me I concentrate on lifting it up in the air. The statue slowly rises in the air but I drop it when I try and bring it towards us. "Urgh. See I need the fear and anger to do anything!" Throwing my hands out in front of me I scoffed back to the professor. He strides up resting a hand on my shoulder making me look into his eyes. "You're thinking too much, dear. Just close your eyes and calm your mind. Come on, try again." I do as told raising my hands again forgetting that his hand is still on my shoulder. Levitating the statue again I turn my hands around actually bringing it right in front of us, dropping it lightly in front of our feet. "That's my girl. Well done." He pats me on the shoulder causing me to blush at his word choice but luckily he doesn't notice going to get Hawkie ready to practice flying from the giant satellite Erik moved earlier this week.

Standing by Erik's side Banshee wears a suit with wings that should carry him since he has the power of screams. Charles glanced my direction right before Erik gently pushed the young boy off the ledge. "Erik!" Charles and I screamed in unison causing me to raise my right hand about to use my power until the boy started screaming. In fact his screams carried him off the ground and he does a few tricks cheering. "Woohoo!" He flies down past us grinning blowing my hair in my face. Holding my hair back I smiled watching the kid cheering through the sky. Charles and Erik both watched you, overjoyed to see an actual smile on your face for probably the first time ever. Erik finally made eye contact with me where I raised a brow up to the man. Charles clearly mirrors the same look because Erik just chuckled to his friend. "What. You know you were thinking the same." Covering my face with my hands I shake my head still smiling that he actually pushed the kid off a satellite.

"Raven, where are we going?" I asked when she opened mh bedroom door pulling me up from the bed quickly. The President had made an announcement about a plan where the Russians would attack Cuba to start World War III with the US. So Erik instructed us all to get a good night sleep because tomorrow morning we would face off against Shaw. Before she came in I was trying to control my mind with the little tricks Charles had taught me so I don't have an episode during battle tomorrow. Apparently Raven has other ideas than resting for tomorrow because we ended up outside Erik's door where she starts to turn the doorknob. "Woah wait. What if he's in there." I throw my hands over my eyes but she just gives me a glare answering once opening the door. "He's playing Chess with Charles. They will be back later. So go wait in the kitchen he likes to have tea before bed." Before I could get another word out she was pushing me towards the kitchen, closing his door with a hopeful grin on her face. Throwing my head back I slump my shoulders muttering under my breath. "Raven, what are you getting me into..." Either way I go to the kitchen making myself some hot chocolate sitting on the couch in the main living room of the cough. Watching the stars in the night sky lost in my thoughts, for once aren't controlled by Shaw but instead by Charles Xavier.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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bartletforamerica · 3 years

Conversation

How the Bartlet Administration Reacts to COVID-19

Abbey: is not taking any chances. After losing the fight to get the President to retreat to the farm or Camp David, she gets him to agree to limit himself to the oval office and the residence, with as few in person meetings as possible. Even before they’ve pulled together a White House task force, she’s made sure that everything is being disinfected and that her entire schedule is either canceled or made virtual. Her staff is the first to be working from home (and oh boy does she scold if she finds out any of them did something she thinks is foolish), with most of the rest of the White House staff following shortly after. She makes it her mission to do PSAs on what people should be doing and even does a virtual Sesame Street collaboration to teach kids how to wash their hands.

Zoey: Is not super pleased to be stuck in the Residence 24/7. She’s doing classes from her bedroom, so yay to not having to get out of bed early, but she can tell people are super disappointed that her camera is set up so that she has only a blank wall behind her [it turns out the secret service is very touchy about where you take video calls]. She also gets officially hired and given a security clearance for the sole fact that she’s one of the only people allowed to be near her dad who is tech-literate. She ends up doing some of her reading on the couch in his office so that she's on hand for when he's supposed to be skyping with the senior staff and can't figure out what link to click. She spends a lot of time worrying about Ellie, who helping do research about the virus, and texting her friends.

The President: is not happy to be closed up away from people. He also thinks that Abbey is overreacting where he's concerned. He misses actually getting to be around the younger staff. He and Zoey do a cooking from home video at C.J.'s suggestion, so that the country can see he's alive and to encourage people to not go out. They make chili and fight over whether it needs more cumin or oregano while Abbey records it and pipes in from behind the camera. The country is treated to a history of chili and a diplomatic incident nearly happens because apparently Mexicans deny having any association with it, even though most food historians say it has Mexican roots. The flaming debate doesn't stop a second episode at Thanksgiving where the country is treated to the history of the yam and all the secret spices that go into the President's stuffing. A large portion of the country gives him flack for putting Oysters in his stuffing. [In a small bedroom in an Illinois apartment a woman finally figures out why Joe Bethersonsen sounded so familiar.]

Leo: moved into the Residence because there was no way he was going to talk the President off ledges via skype for however long this lasted. He can only do so much. Zoey helps him learn to use Skype and he finds himself missing Margaret desperately even when he spends most of the day with a computer dedicated to having her on Skype so he can turn to it and ask her questions. She insists he get exercise and eat healthy (something he thinks she’s collaborating with the first lady on behind his back—they say very similar things much of the time). He skypes with Mallory on Sunday mornings over breakfast in his room and they pretend they’re at a hotel having a fancy brunch.

Charlie: is not particularly happy. He got sent home with everyone else because he’s not particularly necessary to have on hand if the president isn’t going anywhere. He’s still getting paid and he does do some work (the most important bit being hanging out on the phone with the president so he can ramble about history so Zoey can get her own reading done, Leo can browbeat the staff, and the first lady can do her own job) but he’s been ordered by the president and first lady to focus on getting extra school done while he can.

Donna: started freaking out the first day there was a rumor of a new disease in China. Then the White House shut down and even senior staff got sent home unless they absolutely needed to be in the building (basically just C.J. and some of her staff). And her roommate (not the one she'd really liked, who had a cat, but one she hopes is only temporary) works for a GOP congressman who thinks the whole thing is a hoax and bans masks in his office, so Donna is not at all happy and spends time she should be working cleaning things her roommate touches and that's sixty percent of how she ends up living with Josh.

Josh: is struggling with not being allowed to leave the house on pain of the first lady taking him to task (something about his lungs and the bullet). Even when he was putting his nose to the grindstone to make it through college and law school, he liked being around people while he studied, so he was usually in the library or a cafe rather than his room. He works best when he can bounce ideas off people and take in new ideas. When he was grounded after surgery it absolutely sucked and that was why he drove everyone crazy calling them all the time. Yeah he was bored, but he was also lonely. Plus he's not the best with technology. He very nearly went on national tv with his boxers showing, if not for Donna skyping him beforehand and making sure he fixed the camera. Between needing not to be alone and needing his assistant to be able to actually help him, the invite for Donna to stay with him slips out when she's complaining about her roommate. She shows up two hours later with two suitcases of clothes and two suitcases with pasta, toilet paper, and flour.

Donna and Josh: are handling the pandemic much better now that they're together. Josh can bounce ideas off Donna without it tying up his phone line. And she can listen in on his calls to the various members of congress about the stimulus package that they're working on. It's an even better look at Josh's job than she had before, and while it makes some of her work harder to focus on, she feels like she understands some things better than she ever has before. Josh even starts listening to her about how to sway certain congressmembers to their side. When they're not working, Donna forces Josh to cook with her so they're not entirely subsisting on delivery. They tried making bread and managed to spill half a bag of flour on the floor in the process but they ate all of it, even though it tasted pretty bland. Josh finally got Donna into baseball when it came back. Toby spit out his beer when he was on speakerphone with them and he heard Donna accurately yelling at the Mets for screwing up. Donna wears Josh's clothes more than her own, since she doesn't have to be on camera most of the time. They're platonically sharing a bed because they haven't found a convertible sofa for his living room that they like, they say, and it doesn't make sense for one of them to sleep on the couch, which they say has a spring that makes it uncomfortable to sleep on, even though Donna lounges on it all day with no problem. They are absolutely not dating and so they tell all their friends.

C.J.: spends five minutes laughing every time she gets off the phone with Josh or Donna. She loves her friends but god they're so completely in denial. It does, however, give her a much needed break. Her job has always involved a lot of people and knowing what venue to meet them in to ensure that she gets or passes on the information she needs. COVID protocols mean no more one-on-one meetings with journalists in her office, no more gaggles following her through the halls. The press corps were not happy when they moved all briefings outside and insisted on face masks and shields in addition to everyone sitting six feet apart. She gets asked about the president's health at least once a day and they start doing weekly waving from the balconies just so the press corps can get footage of him, healthy and shouting down to Danny and some of the others. Someone makes a cartoon of the president in the tower, with Abbey as his dragon keeper and though no one is willing to justify a cartoon with a comment, privately C.J. thinks it's accurate. She's always admired Abbey's fierce protectiveness of her family, even when she doesn't agree with every way it expresses itself or when it interferes with C.J.'s job. She has to come up with new ways to push the White House agenda (keep the economy afloat, stay home, no, don't listen to the GOP governors or those running for the primary, those ideas are not good, go the fuck home and stop having parties) and while some work, others bomb. It would help if everyone would stay on message and not screw up.

Sam: would like to make it clear that he did not know how many people would be at that gathering. He thought he was going for an outdoor meal with just a few old friends who could help raise money for the democratic party, not a fifty-person birthday party. The media fallout nearly gets him fired. Instead he gets yelled at by C.J., then by the First Lady. Mallory even sends him a card about how stupid he was. He's pretty sure that having Donna around is the only reason that Josh hasn't made the same mistake by now. It had to have been a toss up as to which of the two of them would screw up. Sam just isn't lucky enough to have a Donna (Sam is very happy that Josh has a Donna, Sam just wants Josh to realize that he talks about Donna the same way most men talk about their wives, because it's really hard not to respond to "why do I put up with finding her hair clogging the shower drain" with "because you love her and can't live without her, stupid"). He instead has adopted a cat for company. It tries to scratch him every time he tries to pet it. Sam spends his days trying to find a way to say "fuck the economy until we've beaten the virus" in a way that is palatable to the American people while trying to remind Toby that they can't actually say that outright. This is not an easy task.

Toby: would like to tell most of the American public to shut up, stay indoors for two months, pretty much nobody excepted, and if you don't, then you get tossed out to sea. He's come within an inch of telling anti-mask people they deserve to get sick on the record and is strongly advocating that the federal government figure out a way to mandate that every person in the country, minus those with legitimate medical exceptions, get the vaccine as soon as possible. He is also about to get evicted because it turns out his neighbors do not appreciate having rubber balls bounced against the walls for hours on end. Apparently, the thud is rather annoying. He worries about everyone, though this is delivered brusquely. Out of everyone he's taking the new work from home situation the best. No one can pop in to distract him, or comment on his eating habits. And if he doesn't want to talk to someone, he can always turn his phone to silent and pretend not to have seen they called. He's not pleased the Yankees lost to the Rays (necessitating rooting for either the Dodgers or the Rays, one of which beat his team and the other which betrayed New York), but he can at least take solace in the fact that the Mets didn't even make the playoffs.

#the west wing #pandemic #covid #jed bartlet #president bartlet #abbey bartlet #zoey bartlet #josh lyman #donna moss #josh x donna #sam seaborn #cj cregg #toby ziegler #leo mcgarry #basically there are still dumb people even with a good administration #but they try #and abbey will make sure they stay safe or else #i think this theoretically slots in somewhere in season... three?

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 3 years

Text

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 3 PART 1)

[Donnie x reader]

sfw, part 2 here

"Leo?"

Donnie froze. Leo stood firm where he was. The atmosphere of the lab fell still and Donnie got up from his chair, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"I was getting ready," Donnie almost stammered out, though he managed to get through it barely. "Just…"

He couldn't think of anything to say. No excuses; he knew he was caught. Why would he have been smiling, chuckling at his phone? Why would he have been that distracted as to not detect his brother? There was no explanation to give. He was far less acute than their leader in his senses—less intuitive—to have been able to know that. He berated himself as Leo folded his arms and gave him a look of knowing. Always with that look. You knew you were busted when Leo deployed that one.

"You can either tell me what's going on now or you can do it out there, where everyone can hear," said Leo sternly, body partially blocking the exit anyway.

Donnie scratched on the same spot on the back of his neck that he'd always picked at when he felt uncomfortable. "I can explain," he finally said in a low tone. "Just let me. And please don't alert everyone else immediately. Promise?"

Pausing, Leo contemplated on his response, coming to the decision that he'd at least give him that. He nodded and motioned for him to start, "Go ahead."

"I, um…"

Donnie's heart rate picked up a bit as he began to feel a wash of embarrassment seep in. He'd never been very open to his brothers about how he sometimes wanted connection with the outside world. He hadn't thought much about love or romance given their situation, either, but it did crop up from time to time—he still never mentioned it.

Releasing a deep breath, he explained, "I met someone. Over a game. She wanted to text, and I figured that, since the possibility of—"

Leo halted him. "Time out, what? You met someone on a game, they wanted to text, and you just...agreed?" he asked, surprised himself by Donnie's actions. Before he would hear his brother's response, he continued, cutting him off once again, "Did you forget that there's a reason why we don't just go around talking to whoever?"

Donnie felt a spark of anger and he stood up straighter, stepping forward toward Leo. He hated nothing more than being implied he was stupid or naive. But he still kept his distance, and still tried to keep his voice low so that prying ears couldn't hear.

"Trust me, Leo! I've been talking to her for a few weeks. We only started officially texting recently. You know I've fixed up our phones so they aren't traceable; what is the issue? Am I not allowed to have my own life?"

Leo scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Don, come on, dude," he reasoned, "can you even be sure that's a girl?"

Donnie's lip twitched in annoyance and he scoffed, himself. Of course he was sure! If he'd ever had any inkling he was being baited by an older man, he never would have played with them, or even agreed to text. But Leo didn't seem to listen to anyone's intuition but his own and Splinter's, and so he wouldn't hear out that argument. Donnie suddenly wished she'd sent a picture of herself so he could prove to his brother that he was not, in fact, that empty-headed.

"Also, you do have your own life, it's with us. Which means I have to look out for both you and the rest of the family. I mean it when I say this is risky. Don't be a fool, Donnie. Plus, what were you planning on doing when she eventually wants to know more about you? Lie your way through it? Even if she is who you say she is, it still doesn't change the fact that she's a human girl and you're a mutant. And you can't keep up the charade forever."

Donnie's heart panged at his last words. He wanted so badly to say that he was wrong, but really, he knew that Leo was painfully correct. He couldn't keep up the act forever. Not unless he wanted a friendship built upon lies and deceit by omission. As much as he hated to admit it, Leo was right; it was foolish to have thought it would somehow work out.

Silence befell them, and even though he spoke the truth, Leo felt bad upon seeing his face fall like that. He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "I know it gets lonely. We all do. But you have to face it, Don. That up there? It isn't for us," he told him gently, trying hard to lift the tension from the room. "Let's just stick to what we know best, okay?"

The shadows.

Eyes averted at the ground, Donnie swept the hand on his shoulder off. He walked right past his brother and grabbed some gear on his way out. "Yeah. Let's go." His reply was quiet and curt, steady as he could make it. Though on the inside, he was frustrated. Frustrated that he'd dug himself into a hole that he'd now have to not only dig himself out of, but let down someone else while he was at it. He'd have to let her go. Less angry was he with himself as he was his situation, and Leo knew that feeling well. He wanted to protect his brother—he just hoped Donnie would see that.

Out on patrol, they went about their routine as usual, but everyone noticed the mood-shift. Raph and Mikey were excitable as ever, but the other two were more reserved that night, not talking much to each other.

They leaped from one rooftop to another where they decided to stop for a quick rest, Mikey racing ahead of all of them as he vaulted from the roof and onto the next. "You guys are slow!" he called from the other side. He grinned and jumped up onto the scaffold of a water tower while Raph barrelled across the gap with a roll on impact, Leo choosing to take a flip. Donnie trailed behind and simply jumped the ledge.

"Yo, what's up, D?" Mikey asked through heavy breaths, picking up on his standoffishness. "You been quiet all night!"

"And you're slow as hell," Raph commented. While not as perceptive as Mikey, he had noticed the odd tension and was beginning to get suspicious as well. He knew someone wasn't saying something; he just didn't know what.

Leo and Donnie exchanged looks. He silently hoped that Leo would take the hint, but when Leo sighed and glanced back at the other two, he knew it was hopeless. He'd get chastised at for being ignorant all over again. At least by Raph, he judged. Mikey couldn't really talk because he'd been in a similar boat before, and now, he knew how he'd felt all those times they got onto Mikey for trying to make contact with humans.

"Well?" demanded Raph, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You gonna tell us or what?" His eyes were on Leo rather than Donnie, because he already had an idea that they both knew something that he and Mikey didn't, but everyone turned to Leo when something like this came up.

Leo chewed on his lower lip for a second, conflicted as to whether he would come out with it or save Donnie's pride. They were brothers, family—he couldn't feel truthful keeping them in the dark. But he also recognized that it wasn't his place to say it. He instead turned to Donnie himself, looking for any sign of what they were gonna do. It was up to him, he concluded; if he wanted to stay quiet about it, he could.

Mikey was confused. Raph was growing more impatient. Donnie felt pressured to blurt it out. And he did.

Breaking, Donnie strung out, "I met someone online and we started talking and Leo found out and I didn't want you guys to know because it was stupid and...and...oh, just let me finish this now!"

Leo awkwardly stood back in silence while Raph looked at Mikey, then back at Donnie and him, and soon enough everyone was just staring at one another, all waiting for someone to say something, but no one did. Done, Donnie took his phone out and opened up the messages shared between him and her, holding it out for his brothers to see.

Without warning Raph snatched the phone from his hand and started scrolling, Mikey peering around his shoulder and trying to push him out of the way to see.

"You actually talked to a girl," Mikey awed. He was excited at first, but it faded when he thought about the fact that Donnie had kept a secret from them. They didn't keep secrets.

"Yeah, one named [y/n], who lives in New York City," Raph emphasized, "and works at wherever this is…and...how did you even meet this girl, Don? Is that even a girl?" he questioned Donnie accusingly, waving the phone around as he spoke. He almost dropped it and Donnie quickly took it from him, telling him to be careful as he slipped it back into the strap on his bicep.

Leo kept vigilant watch around them while the conversation played out, being the only one truly paying attention. His eye caught some erratic movement in a tucked-away alley down below them.

"For the last time, yes! She is a girl! And I met her on a game," Donnie answered, throwing his hands down.

"Save it for later, guys, we got company," Leo interjected. He pointed down at the alleyway adjacent to the building they were on and motioned for them to get moving, dropping down onto the fire escape of an apartment complex.

Raph bumped Donnie in the arm purposefully as they approached the edge of the roof, "We ain't done yet," he said, dropping onto the fire escape.

"Yeah, not done yet," Mikey added whimsically.

Groaning under his breath, Donnie whipped out his staff, and leaped down.

Mikey followed behind him, jumping the ledge and launching himself to the opposite balcony. They came upon the scene of a couple of men each carrying a sack out of a backdoor in a building, what was assumed to be the ringleader overseeing it from a car parked next to them.

They turtles were silent, perfectly hidden and moved within the black of night as they descended. Raph pulled out his sai and was about to drop down on one of the unsuspecting men when Leo shoved him back. "Hold on," Leo told him. Begrudgingly, Raph stood down. Donnie peered around the corner from ground level while Mikey clinged to a wall in the shadows. Above, Leo and Raph took the high ground, watching them from a balcony nearby.

"Hurry up and get this shit loaded into the car, I don't wanna get caught back here," a rough voice ordered from the vehicle. Donnie spotted another person in the passenger's seat.

"We're goin' as fast as we can!" one of the men spat back. All were beefed up, tattooed, and based on the scars, no strangers to a fight.

Raph looked at Leo with a smirk. Leo gave the signal and everyone closed in, red and blue dropping from the balcony onto the two completely unaware men, while Donnie and Mikey went to take care of those in the car.

"What the fuck?!" a man shouted, stumbling back as the duo dropped heavily in front of them. He tossed the sack away and Raph saw he was going to pull out a gun, which Raph went for immediately with his sai. He charged into the man before he could even try to aim and stuck the arm holding the pistol with his three-pronged weapon, forcing his wrist down and the gun to fall out of his hand. Leo took the other and barely had to use any force in pinning the man against the wall with his blade and forearm, but had to duck out of the way when Mikey came through swinging his nunchucks at one of the men who had tried to flee the scene.

"Watch where you're going with those things, Mikey!" Leo yelled, grunting as a crowbar collided with the side of his head. He spun around and threw his fist at whoever was behind him, an incapacitating blow to a human, but barely his full strength.

Mikey easily caught his target and gave his legs a mighty sweep to sent him tumbling down. "You thought!" he bellowed with a laugh. "Can't outrun M.C. Mikey."

Donnie caught the driver on the far end of the fight scurrying to pick up the sacks before making his getaway, and quickly he forcefully jabbed his staff into the solar plexus of the man, sending him onto his back. He was winded, coughing and struggling for air.

"Donatello! You good over there?" Raph called out, delivering one final kick to the stomach of the man he was on. Donnie heard the skid of a shoe on the pavement behind him and didn't even have to look as he whirled around with a swing of his staff, hitting the man in the head with near-devastating force. It was a knockout blow—the guy dropped, and the fight was over as quickly as it had started.

Donnie looked around and collapsed his staff, "All good," he answered curtly.

All five of the men lay on the ground, a couple flat-out unconscious while the rest hissed and groaned in pain. While Donnie inspected the sacks strewn around, Raph chuffed and kicked the gun that had fallen away from the hand that was slowly reaching for it, looking down at the pathetic criminal as he instead stepped on his wrist. The burly man let out a whimper, like a baby, and Raph chuckled.

"Just money," Donnie announced. All of them heard the sirens of police cars approaching. "Let's get out of here, guys."

"Those morons weren't even a warm-up," Raph gloated, fist-bumping Mikey. Leo and Donnie were already scaling up to the roof. "Guess if I want to be bored outta my mind, I'll find these guys again."

"Oh, we'll find 'em again," Mikey added, pulling himself up onto the fire escape. He glanced back and saw the red and blue flashing lights starting to round the corner. "But, uh, not before the cops do."

The four made their way back up to the roof and left the area. They still had some time left on patrol, so for a minute, they lingered around, Raph keen to reignite their earlier conversation. Donnie already saw it coming and mentally prepared to answer all of the questions that were about to be thrown his way—which he was correct about, as Raph proceeded to open with, "So, what, you're keepin' secrets from us now? Anything else ya been doing behind all our backs?"

"Cut it, Raph," Leo said, stepping between him and Donnie, "you know that's not it. Don?"

"We're your pals, man, you should have told us," frowned Mikey.

"I just didn't want anyone to freak out," Donnie explained, "and I didn't know I was going to meet anyone I liked that much, I was only planning on playing the—"

Both Raph and Mikey asked in unison, "'Like'?"

He scrambled to fix his wording. He cursed his nervous chatter; he couldn't help himself, he was uncomfortable. Maybe even anxious, because he knew he was going to have to face reality and break it off with his new friend.

"No, not—not 'like'. Like, not like that. I mean in general, as a person," he stuttered, floundering with himself.

Mikey knew he was lying. He knew it well. Though gullible at times, when it came to the heart, Mikey truly was the most in-tune out of the four. As for the other two, he couldn't say as to whether they saw the lie here, because sometimes, Donnie stuttered just because he was excited or frazzled. Other times, it was definitely because he was lying. The entire time he felt a little bad for his brother. He imagined himself in his shoes and it made him sad, thinking about having to let go of a friend right after having them in his life.

Putting a hand on his shell, Mikey shook him a bit, "You like her, bro," he whispered.

Donnie lightly pushed him away. "She's a friend," he clarified, eyeing Mikey.

Raph was silent for a moment while he thought about everything. He wasn't mad about the fact that Donnie has found someone as much as he was that he never said anything, kept a secret from his brothers. The four of them had a rule that went without saying; they didn't keep secrets from one another. Not about anything major, at least—which this was. He didn't even contemplate on what he thought Donnie should do about it, just that he'd hidden something significant from all of them.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you didn't seem like you were plannin' on coming clean with any of us," Raph huffed. "Not if he didn't catch ya." He pointed at Leo.

Donnie suddenly felt his temper flare, and he bit back, "What about you, Raphael? You constantly hide your feelings! How is it not the same thing?"

"Except for his anger, he's pretty upfront about that," Mikey quickly added in before sinking away from the two. Leo sighed and flicked his head. Donnie was right. Raph was a hypocrite and they were getting nowhere.

"My feelings don't endanger people around me," growled Raph, stepping in toward Donnie. They met each other half-way as Donnie wasn't about to back down from his brother, who he was not scared of. "That is absolutely different from what you're doing!"

"Guys, we need to get going," Leo stated, seeing how the moon was far its descent. "Splinter's clear about when he wants us back."

"I'm finishing this right now," Donnie said, pulling out his phone. He opened up the messages and began typing.

Hey. Sorry for the sudden message and I apologise, but I can't do this anymore

He hadn't noticed yet, but the last text he'd received was only twenty minutes prior, right before they dipped from the crime scene they'd just handled. It read:

Damn, I hear all this racket outside my apartment and it's kind of making me nervous

Like guys yelling and stuff getting banged

Nvm someone called the cops, I guess it's good now

Everyone was gathered around Donnie watching the screen as he typed. Raph and Leo both caught that last message. He pressed send and it was only then he saw it, too, and everyone slowly looked at each other in recognition. Everyone was thinking the same thing.

"Awkward," Mikey drew out.

All were at a loss for words. When a new message pinged, they all shoved at each other to get a good look. Raph accidentally stepped on someone's foot. "Ouch! Give me some space, guys," Donnie snapped.

What?

What's wrong?

Donnie looked sadly at the screen. He started typing his response, something skin to "it's complicated" followed by an apology, but Mikey stopped him. "Dude, you can't tell her that, it's gonna hurt her feelings!" Mikey exclaimed, "this is totally unfair! To both of you."

"Look, I ain't tryna be petty, but last time I checked, the rest of us aren't allowed to have human friends," grumbled Raph.

A new message popped up and it read:

Well...I won't question your decision. Bye Bo, I guess

Sighing, Donnie turned off his phone and put it away. He turned to everyone. "Happy?"

"Of course not, bro," Mikey responded. He looked around, as if expecting agreement. There was none; Raph stood away and Leo was watching Donnie's face go from annoyed to dejected. "Guys?"

Leo patted Donnie on the shoulder. "You did the right thing," he said. Donnie didn't say anything. "Alright, let's get going."

Chapter 3, part 2

#tmnt #tmnt donnie #donatello #donatello x reader #tmnt fanfiction #fanfiction #romance #sfw fanfiction #leonardo #raphael #michaelangelo #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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it-was-summer · 3 years

Text

When I’m Away (Aged Up!Five x Fem!Reader)

Requested: Yes! Im so glad you guys enjoy my writing and support me!

Plot: It was basically Five and fem!Reader were best friends and in love and when he jumped, she ended up in the apocalypse together with him. He finally confessed. A few years down the line they got married (as best as one can in an apocalypse xD) and eventually made it home together slightly aged up. Five was always insecure about the fact that he made Reader suffer though even accidentally. It was his biggest regret but most selfish happiness. Post-apocalypse saving, he overhears a conversation Reader is having with one of the other Hargreeves (Klaus, Allison or Vanya come to mind) and misinterprets it/mishears it. He thinks Reader regrets being with him and was truly miserable all this time and that crushes him inside. He starts doing his best to make things happier for her but also makes himself scarce. In a life or death situation, he ends up putting himself in the line of fire for her and before he passes out from the wounds, he whispers an apology to her with tears in his eyes and that he wishes that she can have a second chance now that she's young again. Of course Reader doesn't understand at all what he means and Five refers back to what she said and that's when she realizes what he means and that he misunderstood. He ends up blacking out before she can clarify his fears though and her next week is hell because she's so afraid Five won't wake up and will die thinking she never loved him. When he does she sobs, and she finally tells him that he misheard her and that she loves him and wouldn't trade her life with him for anything. (Right up my ally) Just because you wanted them aged up, I made the two of them 18, I hope that is okay!:) I hope that you like it!! @oceanspray5

Word Count:2623

You couldn’t really remember how it happened. The only thing you could remember is a flash of blue appeared and then a boy was there, in a mask. Everyone knew about the Umbrella Academy, you would be lying if you said that you had no idea who they were, but you did indeed recognize the emblem on his uniform. It was weird, however, that he was standing in your backyard. He stared at you, struggling to find something to say before you shrugged and said “Maybe the calculations were off.”

After that he would occasionally pop in without the mask, inviting you out with him when his family was too much or when he was feeling lonely. You didn’t mind, it was nice to have a friend. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if that someone was sometimes a little too blunt.

The two of you sat on a park bench in the middle of the afternoon, sunshine shining down on the two of you when you spoke up “You seem less snarky today.”

“Less?”

“Yes,” you nodded, still waiting for him to say why he was in such good spirits, but his answer never came. You didn’t pry, you knew that eventually he would say something, but right now was not the time.

His friendship came easy, it was like learning how to walk. You didn’t need to remember how to walk, you just knew you could. That’s how it felt to be friends with Five, he was like a walk in the park. It was your feelings that came second, crashing down on you like a piano, leaving you bewildered and wounded.

You never said anything, thinking that it was just a mindless crush that would eventually disappear, leaving things to continue as they normally did. However, you couldn’t help but notice how bright his smile was, how lovely his hair looked, or how he had dimples. None of that made you want to confess, the only thing that made you want to confess is when he would reach out for you. When his fingers would brush against yours in silly moments of bliss, that’s when you felt your chest deflate, leaving you in desperate need for air.

It was Summer, green decorated the world and colors swayed in the hot wind. You watched from the front door of the Hargreeves door. You knew that today was the today. You were just simply waiting for a moment. You were waiting for his schedule to be clear. It was supposed to be clear after lunch and you knew that, so you were here at one in the afternoon, waiting. You were playing with the hem of your shirt when the door opened in a violent fashion. Your eyes gleamed and you stood straighter, but that’s when Five ran past you. You followed suit, ignoring his warnings as he started his own personal mission. You lept towards him, in an attempt to grab hold of him, succeeding only to be surrounded by blue lights. You didn’t let go till Five stopped running.

It was hard to breathe, that was your first thought. You couldn’t seem to get a deep enough breath. Five was screaming, frustration filling up his senses as he tried to escape this hell. Then he ran, back in the direction of the umbrella academy, back to his home. You stood still, noise becoming obsolete as your soul left your body. You felt as if you watched yourself follow Five, you didn’t speak, you didn’t cry. It was only when Five turned to you with a panicked face and teary eyes that you felt your soul return, running over to him and holding him tightly as the two of you sobbed in the wreckage.

Surviving with Five was the easy part, he was your best friend so of course it was easy. The hard part was remembering. Sometimes you would have dreams about home, about your family or friends, sometimes you would even dream about growing up with Five. Growing up normally, as normal as the two of you could be, given how one out of the two of you was especially gifted. You dreamt about school life with Five. Going to prom with Five. Something normal and desperately sweet, but then you would open your eyes and you would be in a crumbling house, feeling hopelessly lost.

It was getting colder and you were looking for something to burn that seemed relatively dry when Five flashed in next to you. “Need help?”

You smiled up at him, giving him a tiny nod as the two of you started to walk into piles of rubble. “Do you ever dream about what could have been?”

“What could have been?”

“Yes,” you picked up a wooden plank “, Sometimes I dream about us, I dream that we met normally, like in the movies.” You explained as Five stared at you. He bit his lip and held his hand out towards you, letting you safely cross a ledge.

“No, I try not to.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I think that if we were normal,” his hand lingered “, I think that things would be different.”

Your eyes locked onto his for a second before he bent down to pick up some branches. You looked away with a small hum “Maybe, but I think we would always find each other. In this lifetime and in others, I think it always had to be the two of us.”

Five swallowed hard, turning to face you. It had been months now, months since the two of you ended up stuck here, and yet you still seemed so lovely. Even when the entire world was gone, you were still his light. He decided then that, no matter what happened it had to be you. It would always be you. “Like soulmates,”

“If you’d like a definition, then sure, like soulmates.”

“Despite everything I believe in, I can find it in my heart that I have always loved you.” Your eyes became wide as you held the wooden plank closer to your chest, mind running rampant as you tried to string a sentence together in the midst of your astonishment. Five grinned, knowing that he must have said something right by the way your cheeks were turning a beautiful red. You let out a melodic laugh as you leaned towards him, pressing a small kiss to his temple, then whispering a sweet “I love you too.”

Your love for each other grew like wildfire with each passing day; each week, month, and year felt as amazing as the last. The depressing parts of the apocalypse were drowned out by kisses and days of being together. Days of surviving together. That was enough to make it all bearable. All the scorching hot days, the freezing nights and rationing seemed so little compared to how the two of you loved each other. It was a few days before the fortieth anniversary of the apocalypse when Five turned to you with the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face. “What?”You giggled lightly, pushing him softly in a lame attempt to get him to answer you.

“I found some candles and guess what started blooming,” he pulled you by your arm over towards a patch of dandelions. They weren’t exactly flowers, but you weren’t complaining.

“Lovely,” you sighed as a gust of wind blew through the two of you, Five’s mouth moving but you couldn’t make out the words until the wind settled and you heard him say “We should get married,”

It was something impulsive and unplanned. You knew that even with the paperclip rings the two of you managed to make for each other wouldn’t be legally binding, but it was enough. Marrying each other gave the two of you just an ounce of normalcy in the middle of the revived earth. It was enough to make the two of you feel good about the world again. Hope was slowly being restored and the two of you had hoped that this small union between the two of you would be enough to settle the horrible images that surrounded both of your minds every night. So with two small vows and “I do’s”, the two of you wore poorly constructed paper clips around your left ring fingers, proudly.

Now you were staring down at that same paperclip ring on a much younger hand. After escaping from the commission and running, you were addressing your situation silently in a fully furnished, not to mention, elaborate living room. You and Five had jumped back into time, and by some fault the two of you became eighteen again. You felt more alive, yes, but more anxious than ever. You wish the two of you had more time. More time to make up a plan for the apocalypse, a better plan. Five sat with his back against yours, muttering soft calculations in the silence of his home. You just wish the two of you had more time.

The time the two of you were running through a clothing warehouse was when Five first saw it. He saw how desperate your eyes looked. Given that the two of you were being shot at the time, but his mind traveled back to when you talked about normalcy. His heart tugged in his chest, seeing your panicked face move closer, grabbing hold of his hand tightly and yanking him under a countertop. Deep down inside Five always felt guilty for bringing you along, although it wasn’t willingly, his chest still felt heavy as the two of you escaped the warehouse alive. He wanted you to have a normal life, that’s all he wanted. He wished he could be normal for you, stable for you and above all be extremely and completely boring for you, so you could have that normal life that you clung to in your dreams.

You watched Five perform a dance you had never seen before, walking around the kitchen avoiding your stare from the table and escaping any attempts of conversation and he did it all with a sweet smile. One moment he would be talking to himself loudly down the hall, but as soon as he saw you, he sent you a sweet look and stopped talking all together. He seemed so strange, and yet you couldn’t put your finger on it. You were sure that he was just trying to figure things out the same as you, but he was worrying you.

You were walking around the house when you heard Klaus calling your name in a excited tone, he straightened when he saw you, bowed and then said “Mrs.Hargreeves,”

“Klaus,”

“How is the husband?” he asked as he sauntered over next to you, sitting on the couch before he patted the cushion next to him for you to take.

You sat with a tiny huff “He’s being,” you trailed off before saying “,Him.” You let out a defeated sigh as you heard Klaus laugh at your anxiety.

“He’s Five, he’s always been moody!”

“Yes, but he loves me.” You looked down at the paperclip wrapped around your finger with a groan “I think he’s just stressed, or something. He gets distant, yes, but usually he isn’t so happily ignoring me?” you vented before you brought a hand up to your forehead gently.

“Why did you marry him anyway?”

You grinned, feeling childish “Maybe, because he was the last man on earth,” that was the last sentence Five heard before he walked away, locking himself back up in the room filled with equations.

“I married him because I love him. I really do.”

Something you had learned at the commission was that a gunshot was less dramatic than it was on television, and the worst thing you learned was that the screen wouldn’t fade to black when things got gory. Now you were wishing you were in a movie, as the gun was pointed at you by Hazel, but instead of the bullet going through you a brilliant flash of blue took the bullet for you and Five was falling to the ground, bleeding out from his chest. You let out a scream, catching him before his body could touch the earth, holding him close in your lap as his siblings fought off the assassins.

“Five,” you said his name clearly, holding back tears as your hands were becoming red with his blood.

His eyes darted towards yours in a second and he smiled softly. “Hey,” you dragged him behind the bar, leaving a trail of blood behind the two of you “Hey, Y/N…” You looked down at the sound of your name, tears blocking your vision. “I’m sorry for,” he paused, eyes searching for the words as his mind became foggy and damp “,for everything really. Please, please stop this and maybe you can move on without me and be better. Be happier.” he said breathlessly as Grace rounded the corner at the perfect time.

“What are you talking about,” his eyes fluttered, fighting to stay conscious as he let out a tiny whine before he drifted off into a state of unconsciousness “,Five!”

Then next few days were absolute torture, you sat at Five’s bedside, waiting for some kind of sign that he would wake up. Grace said his vitals were fine, it was only a matter of time till he was awake, but that didn’t start the ball of anxiety from growing deep within your stomach, infecting all of you quicker than any virus known to man. He had to wake up. Did he truly believe that you could ever live without him? That you could ever do any of this without him? Five was the love of your life, your soulmate, the one person who was supposed to grow old with you… again. You were stuck in this body, feeling miserable as you stared down at your unconscious husband, begging to anything, to anybody, that he would wake up soon.

It was around three in the morning when his eyes opened, slowly, but surely they opened. The first thing he focused on was you, seeing the red around your eyes as you stared down at him. “Five,” you let out a heavy sigh, smiling with relief.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I’m your wife, why wouldn’t I be here?”

“You only married me because I was the last man on earth,” Five’s fresh eyes filled with tears as he watched you let out a small sound of understanding.

“Is this,” you paused, your smiling dropping quickly “,Is this what all this was about? You heard me joking around with Klaus and you thought I was serious?” You questioned, feeling your heartbreak for the man you loved. “Five, my love, I love you with everything fiber of my being. I didn’t mean it like that. I would never leave you. I could never replace you, my love.” you leaned down, kissing his nose gently, giving Five a easy going smile as you pulled away.

Five swallowed hard as he looked up into your eyes, suddenly feeling foolish for how he was feeling. All the guilt he built up, watching you panic. It was because you needed him, you loved him. You couldn’t bear to lose him, just like he couldn’t bear to lose you. He let his tears fall “I’m so sorry, I thought you didn’t want me anymore, I thought-”

You shushed him softly “It’s okay,” you slid into the bed with him, holding him close as he calmed down “, It’s always been you. I could never love anyone else, it’s always going to be you.” You whispered sweetly to him, feeling his body relax into your embrace.

#number five #number five x reader #five x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #tua spoilers #tua #tua x reader #x reader #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy oneshot #the boy #five #fluff

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ahsana · 4 years

Text

Rehab ~ Dean Winchester

Chapter 1 - The Party

Summary: Gwendolyn Anderson is in her early twenties. For most people that age, they're in college or just starting to find their way. For her, she lost the person closest to her in the universe and she has to find a way to pick up the pieces because everything as she knows it as about to change. After a few events that are less than coincidental, the only thing that seems to make sense anymore is a man with green eyes and a twelve step program.

Pairing: AU!Gabriel Novak x OC!Gwen, AU!Dean Winchester x OC!Gwen & possible other variations. Stay tuned to find out ;)

Word Count: 2038

Chapter Warning: Just like every other chapter in this book so far, there will be detailed drug use, mentions of drugs, paraphernalia, mentions of death and other very sensitive topics. If this could trigger you or set you off in any way possible, I urge you not to read it. If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, please reach out and get help. You are not alone. Always keep fighting.

Even when things were okay, I still never feared death. I've been on the edge many times; never quite falling off, but never quite holding on either.

A lot of people say overdosing was their rock bottom. It wasn't for me. Heroin is a strong word, and sometimes it even shocks me when I say it. Weird, right?

In health class as a teenager, I saw the pictures of drug addicted people and made a pact with myself in my head that I'd never become one of those people and here I am. I guess I should explain how I got here, though.

« FLASHBACK »

Why did I snort that line? My nose burns, my brain hurts, and my whole body feels like it's buzzing. I'm not exactly sure where the cocaine came from or why exactly I did it but I know that I have to get out of here and fast.

Parties aren't usually my scene, but I figured since it was my last day as a teenager I might as well indulge. My surroundings aren't familiar, just some college frat party that I knew of because I attend school here, but other than that I really have no idea where I am or how I got here.

I'm searching for the exit, pushing past sweaty bodies and other young adults who reek of alcohol and marijuana. I gave up hope halfway through the search because it feels almost as if though it's impossible, so when my eyes land on the staircase in front of me I sigh gratefully.

The door at the end of the hallway is propped open slightly; a large rock wedged between so it couldn't close. The loud music was causing my ears to ring so I walked as quickly as I could and became elated when I realized the door at the end of the hallway leading to outside, giving me a chance to get some fresh air.

I push the door open and realize it's heavier than I first assumed, so I try and let it close behind me gently so it doesn't knock rock out of place. I inhale deeply and look around, only to be met with the fact that I'm on the roof somehow.

"Wow," I mutter, and make my way towards the edge of the building; my shoes making the gravel of the rooftop crunch along the way. I peered over the ledge, and for a second considered flying.

Worse case scenario, I land flat on the pavement, ultimately dying in the process or I make it to the rooftop across the way. I step onto the ledge, squat and then sit; dangling my legs over the side of the building.

My heart is pounding a hundred miles a minute, and all of a sudden tears start streaming down my face.

"I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend," I gasp out of shock because I didn't realize that I wasn't alone up here—and also because a random man is singing to me. I turn my head to face the mystery man and am pleasantly surprised. "You could cut ties with all the lies, that you've been living in," He continues, and I recognize the song and join in with him.

“And if you do not want to see me again, I would understaaaand. I would understaaand," We both sing in unison, and the stranger lets out a fit of giggles which makes me laugh in return.

"So Miss, how are you on this lovely night?" He questions.

"You aren't even going to ask me my name?" I inquire with a grin.

"Nope, don't need to." I nod in response, pretending to understand why.

“I'm doing well, by the way." I add.

"That's amazing.. or.. would be, if you were telling the truth." I cock my brow up, and he quickly adds, "I mean you wouldn't be sitting on the ledge for nothing, right?"

I shake my head in disagreement. "That's where you've got it wrong, sir."

"Sir? Do I really look that old?" He jokes.

"No, but I'm not sure what to call you since we don't need to know each other's names." The stranger sits beside me and lets his legs dangle over the building as well. I take a closer look at his features that are illuminated by the street lights below and I am captivated.

The ridge of his nose, the length of his lashes and his eyes—Wow, his eyes. It's dark, but I can tell that they're brown with a swirl of honey and it reminds me of a Hershey's bar.

"So, did you find what you were looking for?" He asks, and I shake my head no for the second time. "Well then what are you doing?" I shrug. "You're not very talkative, are you?" He asks, seeming genuinely curious.

"I am, but I'm not sure what to say. I'm at a party, drunk and high off coke, sitting with a stranger on the edge of the roof; trying to come up with something I could tell you but I'm at a loss for words here." The man gives me a goofy grin in return.

"Well. We'll probably never see each other again, so why don't you tell me your biggest secret?" I laugh out loud.

"Sir, I've known you for mere minutes and you want me to do something like that? Strange." I mumble in awe.

"I'm not from around here, so I couldn't possibly hold it against you in any way."

"Why did you come here then?" I ask.

"Free booze."

"Interesting. Here—I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." I whisper cheekily to him and he nods his head, agreeing.

"Sure. Okay. Let's start," he thinks for a moment, "My guilty pleasure is Lazy Town, the kids show."

"Ha! That's an awful secret, shame on you!" I reply but laughing while doing so.

"Fine, fine. Um, when I was seventeen I slept with my best mate's girlfriend. He still doesn't know." He whispers guiltily.

"Wow, that's pretty deep. Are they still together?" He nods.

"Been together for eight years, married for three—with two kids."

I chuckle, "How do you know you aren't the baby daddy?"

"Timeline doesn't add up—trust me, I did the calculations as soon as she told everyone she was pregnant the summer after we graduated high school," He trailed off but then turned his head towards me, "Your turn."

I gulp, and try and think of something.

"Um... Well, I might as well go all out then. My parents are both government officials. Amelia and Doug Anderson?" I throw the names out to see if he recognizes them.

"Holy shit," He marvels. "You're Gwendolyn Anderson. I should have recognized you as soon as I seen you! You and your parents are all over TV." I sigh.

"Yeah. But call me Gwen, I hate it when people call me Gwendolyn. Anyways—That's not exactly my secret." I look towards him and he motions for me to continue.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this but.. here we go. My entire life, I've felt like the weight of the world has been on my shoulders. Ever since I was a kid my parents have been pushing me to be the best in every category there has been or ever will be. My senior year of high school was the worst, obviously because of the impending doom of getting into the best college and working on getting scholarship offers; meanwhile keeping all A's, playing volleyball and volunteering."

I continued, glancing back now and then to see if he was still paying attention and he was alert the entire time. "It got to the point where.. I needed some extra help. Adderall was basically my scapegoat and how I functioned for the entire year. My parents were so busy being wrapped up in their own lives and pushing me to my limit that they never discovered I lost myself along the way. Now I'm in college, and I'm still trying to find my way back to a happy medium. But when I looked down at the ground, I realized that for some reason it doesn't even matter anymore."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Have you ever gotten to the point where you feel like you're just numb? Everything is grey scale and there's no color at all? I'm just going through the motions. There's no highs or lows; only this weird middle ground. I thought coming to this party tonight and getting trashed would make me feel better but it didn't change anything." He nods, knowingly. I can tell he understands. He rests his left hand on top of my right one and somehow it felt like my body couldn't get any hotter.

I should be scared, uncomfortable even. I just met this guy and don't even know his name but I'm letting him touch me like we've been friends all our lives. A sudden thought makes me speak up.

"You know, it's not really fair that you get to know my name and I don't know yours." He chuckles.

“It's Gabriel." I smile because it's very fitting. He looks like a Gabriel.

"That's a beautiful name."

He laughs, "Beautiful? More like average. Your name is beautiful."

"I wholeheartedly disagree. I have a grandma name, at least yours fits your age no matter how old you are." He smiles. We sit in silence, his hand still resting on top of mine and I take another look down at the ground.

"How long do you think it would take to reach the ground?" I ask as if he'd actually know the answer.

"For a suicidal person? Too long. For a person just looking for some answers, too fast."

“How do you know which is which?" Gabriel lets out a grunt and laughs.

"Well, do you want to die?" He asks, raising his voice but continues smiling; which is oddly contagious.

"I don't think I'd ever do anything to speed up the process, so ultimately no. Probably not."

"I guess there's an answer then." Gabriel replies.

"An answer?"

"Yeah, the one of many you're looking for. I won't have them all, though."

"B-But I thought you were an all-knowing wizard!" I gasp out sarcastically.

"No, no. But... I maybe might have one.. just for now,"

I raise my eyebrow again and ask, "What might that be?" Gabriel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny baggie with pills inside of it.

"You might like these," he whispers gently.

"Ah, man. I don't know--"

“I'm sure drugs weren't the first thing you thought of, but maybe they'll help you forget until tomorrow." I sigh and stick my hand out apprehensively.

"What are they?" I question.

"Percocet. Strongest prescription." I nod, remember hearing some of my peers talking about it previously this week. I swallow two of them without a second thought.

« FLASHBACK OVER »

I look down at the person who brought me into this mess, and his face is quickly turning a light shade of blue.

"Gabe, God, You fucking idiot! I told you not to do that much!" I shout and dial 911 as quickly as possible.

The next thing I know, I'm sitting on the front porch steps of his apartment as they're carrying him away on a stretcher. My best friend is dead, and I can officially say I'm terrified.

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #gabriel novak #castiel #fanfic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #rehab au #crowley #charlie bradbury #au #slow burn

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bahytarek · 5 years

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Ben Tennyson - Ben 10,000 - Ben 10K

Hero of Heroes - Wielder of the Omnitrix

Ben has been through a lot growing up. It all might seem glamorous, and sometimes it looks like fun but the truth is that this life isn't all perfect.

He's had many victories throughout his life. He defeated Vilgax, destroyed Zs'Skayr, made peace with the Highbreed, saved Galvan Mark II from a psychotic vengeful Galvanic Mechamorph, prevented the Incursean Empire from taking over the Earth, made other realities and dimensions a safer place, and created the entire Universe twice.

This man never stops doing what he does best, being a true hero. He spends most of his time saving the universe or stopping some crook. However big or small the problem, Ben risks his life and jumps ahead to save the day. We saw that sometimes, Ben does get hurt, even if he got hurt as an alien. Ben risks his physical health without even considering how bad things could get because he believes that if he doesn't step in, things could get worse, and can you blame him? People depend on Ben on a daily basis, and the job just gets harder and harder on him the older he gets, never really getting a chance to relax. Notice how I said job.

Ben started this life since he was 10, and took it as a game up until Vilgax threatened his family and showed him the risks of being a hero. Ben has spent most of his childhood as an outcast and as a target for bullying, the Omnitrix made him feel like he was worth something, like he was a hero. After defeating Vilgax for the first time, Ben still goofed off but knew deep down that there will come a time where he'll have to get serious.

Zs'Skayr is a complete psycho, instead of beating the snot out of Ben like Vilgax, he hit him where it really hurt, mentally. Zs'Skayr possessed Gwen and threatened Ben by making her stand on the ledge of a building, willing to commit suicide by jumping off. The next time Zs'Skayr attacked Ben's family, Ben was over protective of Gwen and Grandpa Max, he was scarred by his last encounter with Zs'Skayr. Gwen took it as him being cocky and selfish but the opposite is true, and for a 10 year old, Ben was completely brave.

In Secrets of the Omnitrix, Ben believed that Gwen was killed and completely blames himself, wishing it was him instead, a feeling that no 10 year old should feel.

Ben eventually unlocks Feedback, an alien he feels strongly attached to. During this time, he became enemies with a corrupted Galvanic Mechamorph named Malware. Malware eventually destroyed the Conductoid's DNA within the Omnitrix, making Feedback unaccessible. Ben loses for the first time, and in his rage he straight up murders Malware. I assume it was after that incident Ben removed the Omnitrix for 4 years.

Enter Alien Force. Ben wears the Omnitrix again because he fears for his Grandfather's life. This choice wasn't easy because it shows that he enjoyed being normal, but as soon as someone needed his help, he didn't hesitate to slam it on his wrist. He eventually becomes close friends with former enemy Kevin E.Levin.

Ben matured a lot during the first two season of Alien Force when he had to deal with the fact that his beloved Grandfather "died" and that he was in the middle of a Galactic War. After it ended and Max was revealed to be ok Ben managed to be happy again in season 3. Yet once again, Gwen mistakes this as him being cocky and wreckless, and even though he was a little cocky, Ben was just truly happy for once, and felt like a true hero again. At the end of Alien Force, Ben blew up the Omnitrix to stop Vilgax, proving that it's not the watch that makes him a hero. Ben doesn't feel this way though, and proceeds to take the Ultimatrix from Albedo.

In Ultimate Alien, Ben is now famous, not only across the stars, but on Earth as well. He has to deal with fame and criticism at the age of 16 while still trying to pass in his classes and save the Universe everyday. To a kid, this is a lot of pressure. In the beginning Ben seemed fine with it, but at some point it just seemed exhausting. Above all of this, his relationship with Julie, his girlfriend at the time, was rocky. She wished that he was there more but how could he? He's constantly trying to keep the Universe safe, he hardly even gets a good night's rest, and she expects him to be available? Again, the other characters make it look like it's all Ben's fault but the truth is, Ben can't do anything about it, despite the fact that he could turn into aliens, he's only human!

Ben eventually fails to save the 5 aliens that trusted him and then has to deal with the fact that his once best friend Kevin, is once again evil. It's up to Ben to stop him, it has to be him wheither he likes it or not, and this obviously hurt him, but he has no choice but to stop him, even if it meant to go to the extreme if the situation required. Because deep down, it's his fault, or so he thinks. He believes that maybe if he defeated Aggregor himself, if he was strong enough, Kevin would be ok. In the end it all worked out, but at what cost? Ben considered killing his friend, this will forever haunt him. He even willingly "sacrificed himself" to free all the Ultimate Aliens that blamed him for their imprisonment inside of the Ultimatrix, not because he had too, but because he wanted to. Freeing these creatures to him were far more important than his own life. At the end of Ultimate Alien, Ben gets the Ascalon and can now recreate the universe in anyway he wishes, destroy all evil, but he doesn't, he just fixes everything. Ben isn't arrogant or misuses his powers. Even though Ben can now control Alien X (or eventually) he wouldn't do anything extreme because he has limits, he knows right from wrong.

In Omniverse, Ben has gone through a lot. Gwen and Kevin left him behind, his only two real friends that could ever understand him in a way. He eventually gets close to his new plumber partner Rook Blonko. At some point, Ben recreated the Universe after it was destroyed and is the only one that remembers it's destruction. Even though he did something so heroic, he was forced to stand trial in front of the entire Universe for it. Not only that, but because of this one moment, another villain, Servantis, makes a hit squad to kill Ben just because he believes that Ben is too powerful to be trusted. Servantis also reveals Kevin as a sleeper agent. Ben again would blame himself for Kevin's turn but was more optimistic about saving him this time. Instead of trying to kill him, he just wanted to leave, regroup, and come up with a plan (he didn't know of course that Kevin was secretly good).

Ben was also forced to leave his friends and family behind on Earth thanks to the Incursean invasion. He was forced to deal with Malware, the alien that killed Feedback and mentally scarred Ben for years. He learns that in most realities he becomes evil. He temporarily died right before giving his Omnitrix to another Ben, but instead of being saddened by the fact that he's dying at such a young age, he gives advise to the other Ben to become a hero, to protect this Universe from monsters like Vilgax. Ben as a person has gone through so much growing up, and we got to watch him become a true hero, a hero of heroes. He mentored a younger alternate version of himself, he taught Rook how to be a hero instead of just being a plumber, he taught Kevin the importance of friendship, he inspired Gwen to become Lucky Girl and pursue magic, he motivated Grandpa Max to become a plumber once more. Literally everyone that gets close to Ben will have some kind of heroic trait because Ben shows them what it means to fight for others, to be selfless, to truly become a hero.

Ben knows about the man he'll become in the future, he's well aware that things will get harder and that he'll be a hero for ever. The pressure of knowing that he'll have to fill those shoes eventually must put some pressure on him sometimes.

We now know that at the age of 20, Ben becomes more serious and more of a loner. The reasons why are unknown, and the possibilities are endless. Maybe he blames himself for the loss of his Grandfather's arm or maybe he couldn't handle the fact that he was forced to throw Kevin into the Null Void again. Whatever the reason, Ben decides that it's for the best to do what he does on his own. Due to his history of almost losing his loved ones, it's easy to understand that at some point something happened that made him quit having a team. He'd rather die than see the ones close to him get hurt, but with this solitude and loneliness, he eventually became angrier and less sociable. We also learn that with the help of his master control, Ben used XLR8 to patrol the entire planet on a daily basis to stop any kind of crime from happening.

Ben no longer sees this as a game, it's his mission, it's the one thing he believes he's good for, being a hero. It's all anyone ever needed from him, it's all he thinks he needs to do. What's troubling how ever, is his loss of self. Ben got so comfortable with the idea of going hero all day 24/7, he no longer becomes Ben, because to him, Ben is just a weak human transformation. He no longer needs Ben, he's just the wielder of the Omnitrix, all that matters to him is being who people need him to be when he's needed, but not by being himself.

After the episode "Ben 10,000", Ben lightens up and begins to become the man he once was, one by one. In "Ken 10" he's happy, up untill he sees Kevin again, realising that he can't escape the mistakes of his past. This is when Ben reverts to his serious, more stubborn self, and pushes Ken, his son, aside to take Kevin down. Later when he sees Ken hurt, he loses his temper and demolishes Kevin as Waybig.

Four years later, we see that Kevin is better, angry, but better. Ben is still happily married with Kai (unlike Julie, Kai is also a hero, thus understanding the responsibilities and the pressure that Ben is under), Ken grew to be more of a hero, making his father proud, and Ben's life seems to be fine in a way.

Ben's life wasn't easy nor fun, but in the end, he has a group of loving family members and friends to support him when needed, and as long as they are by his side, he can learn to enjoy life and still be the hero the world needs him to be.

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dothewrite · 7 years

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hi, big fan of your writing! how about a scenario where kuroo's crush, soon to be gf, is friends with toxic people? like she realizes deep down that they're bad people to be around, but she ignores it because she's scared of being alone. but then he confronts her about it telling her that she doesn't need to be scared because she'll always have him?

hi, sorry, it’s the anon from the toxic friends scenario again. what i mean by toxic is that her friends talk about other people, badmouthing them, and her excuse is that she’s not scared of confronting them, just of being alone. thank you!

Maybe this is slightly different from how you imagined it would be, and I’m sorry about that. I just couldn’t help but realize that there’s so much more than romance going on in this, because it’s a serious issue, and nobody really talks about it much. I think Kuroo’s the type who would be solemn, blunt, and essential. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; I did put some fluff in there, so don’t worry. :) The song I listened to this time is Adele’s Turning Tables.

You’re standing alone, on a high ledge, trappedbetween a cliff and an ocean. Which do you choose? It’s crumbling, it’scrumbling. You have a lifetime to feel things give way from under you.

They’re not so different to you. That’s a good reason,right? You’re not so different, no matter how much you think yourself to be. Atthe end of the day, you’re the one with your phone in your hand, tapping awayasinine remarks on your chatroom with your equally asinine friends.

You put your phone down only after it’s been an hour;your attendance has been noted, and you’re free to choose what you want to donow. The clicking of your phone locking itself feels like locking the part ofyou away into a digital device that will always have some record of what anasshole you can be when you want to be. You’d throw it against the wall andwatch it crack, but that wouldn’t change anything- nothing you want changed, soit stays where it is on your desk.

You’ve been avoiding so many things, and the gravelunderneath you cracks some more, giving way and crumbling into the endlessexpanse that is the unfathomable underneath your high place. A ringtone sounds,and it’s the silly tune of a kid’s show. Kuroo’s calling you, and you ignorethat too.

“I’m outside your door,” his voice calls from outsideyour door, and just this once, you curse living alone. You didn’t have a motherwho could open the door and tell him that you’re not here. There’d be no point.He knows exactly where you are, because he’s like that. And you’re like this.

Your steps are heavy and they drag you to the doorknob.You turn it, and he’s standing there with a phone in hand and an inscrutablegaze that makes you look away.

“Come in,” you mumble, and you retrace your steps backto your room as if you hadn’t moved at all.

He follows, silent. He waits for you to take your seaton the bed before settling himself in the chair by your desk, his legs crossedand body leaned forwards.

“Has it been that bad that you’re not messaging meback anymore?”

“I’m not-“ you sigh, pushing your face into yourblankets, “that’s not what I mean by it. You know that.”

“I know,” he answers, “but it doesn’t mean that it’snot what it is.”

“I can guess what you’re going to tell me.”

He laughs. It’s a dark sound, full of worry, and itwraps around your gut like a noose.

“I’m going to tell you anyway.” He sounds oddly kindfor someone who’s been left on radio silence for several days. You find it hardto believe he doesn’t mind. “Will you finally talk to them? Will you finallyadmit that you don’t like this?”

“What if I do? What if this is who I really am-someone mean just because all my friends are mean, this weak little girl who’stoo afraid of being alone to be someone she actually likes?”

“Well? Are you?”

You blink, confused. “I- maybe.”

“Do you like who you are now, scared little girl?”

“Can’t say I do, really.” You huff out a laugh, like alittle cloud of sarcasm that rains bitterness on cool summer days.

Kuroo looks nothing near satisfied, you’re surprisedto find. Just leaning backwards into the backrest with an understanding twistof his mouth. “If you don’t, and this is who you are, then why not change?”

“Because change isn’t just change,” you groan, “it’s doing something and not knowing if it’llwork out. Kuroo, I might not have anyfriends after this- and no matter how hard I try I’m never going to be a confident little girl, so I can’t just,I don’t know, text them a ‘fuck you all’ and leave it at that!”

“So you’re afraid of being alone?” He murmurs.

“Everyone’s afraid of being alone.” You reply.

The twist of his mouth- the closest thing to his eyesthat you can bring yourself to look at- turns a little sad, a little funny, andfor a moment you think that he might be sick.

“Don’t you feel alone anyway?” He asks with a smilethat hurts you, “isn’t it worse to feel alone surrounded by people?”

You don’t have a reply for that.

“I’m not much,” he says with his eyes downcast and ahumble shrug, “but I’m here.”

If he were any closer- if you were any braver, you’dreach out and take his hand. Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the dimming lightfrom your window, but something tells you that it’s shaking. You don’t knowwhy, and the Kuroo you know never shakes. He’s always right there whenever you needhim, and there the most when you don’t deserve him.

“I’m sorry,” the words are sluggish on your tongue,like a drug addict in his first moments of lucidity, “I must be such adisappointment all the time.”

Kuroo shakes his head.

“I’m… I’m not asking you for anything. I just want toyou be less miserable. Because you do. Look miserable. I just think that… if itmakes you brighten up if you finally get to be yourself, it’s worth the risk,sort of.”

“You’re right, of course,” you laugh, “you’re always rightwhen I’m wrong.”

“That’s what you keep me around for,” he grins.

It’s not true. It’s you who wonders why he keeps you around-why he’d even bother, because you’ve given him more than ample opportunity to judgethe heck out of you but he hasn’t. Not once, and in fact- well, he’s here, isn’the?

“I’m here for you,” he says, almost as if he can readyour thoughts, “I can’t say forever because I can’t promise things that I don’tknow if we’ll be able to keep, but I’m here. Right now, and for the foreseeablefuture.”

There’s something left unsaid in the way his sentencedrops off the edge, and something tells you that you know what it is, butneither of you bring it up. It’s not the right time, and there’s more to life,more to friendship and more to love than confessions. No matter what willhappen, you know that he’s changed your life, and that’s more than enoughforever than you’ll need.

“So you don’t have to be afraid of being alone,whatever happens. Maybe I’ll finally let my friends meet you, eh?”

“Oh? Have I been locked up or something?”

“Or something,” he grins again, and you laugh when hetosses your phone to you. “Your move.”

It’s a checkmate this time, you guess. The message issurprisingly easy to type, your fingers moving across the words like you’vebeen dreaming them, and although pressing enter takes several minutes- Kuroooffers you a supportive smile and then proceeds to stare determinedly at yourdesk for the remaining time- it doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d thought itmight.

It’s another message you’ll never be able to takeback, but this is the first one that comes from you. The chatroom alights withmessages, a blitz of buzzing and notifications, but you put your phone to oneside. You can deal with the aftermath later- right now is Kuroo’s proud smilein front of you, and your shoulders are lighter than they’ve been in years.

“Hungry?” He asks.

“Famished,” you smile. His hand brushes over yourswhen he hands you your coat, and there’s something inextinguishable in the way yourchest burns and your breathing lightens, knowing that you’ve earned the rightto blush at the gesture with your head held high.

#kuroo tetsurou #female original character #sfw #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #i writes the haikyuu

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