#I want mutant eyes that need not blink so i never need to look away

[transmechanicus]

The HRT has killed a lot of my normal everyday experience of sexuality but fortunately it has revealed a second, much much weirder sexuality underneath.

[sun-snatcher]

Wish. If u give me a Part 2 of your Gambit fic with ❛ we'll just have to make do.  ❜ where they both make it out of the Void together I will kiss u on the mouth rn I PROMISE u. Or a hug. Whichever works. PLS I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM🙏🏼😫

♧ ⎯ ‘LIMBO LOSERS’ CLUB

summ. The TVA extends an olive branch. Wade’s Universe becomes home. Above all, you’re just thankful you’re not alone in this Multiversal mess. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established in #WELUCKYFEW) w.count. 1.6k a/n. Shirtless Channing + romantic hand tension. That's it. That's the tweet. ( Continuation of this imagine! )

YOU SURVIVE ALIOTH.

That’s the first surprise.

The second? 

The Time Variance Authority want to help, now. 

( Granted, it’d mostly been Wade who did the gruntwork of sending Elektra and Blade back to their Universes, but he had hit a wall when it came to you and Gambit considering you two were— according to him: “A coked up version of being homeless. Universe-less.” )

So here you are, a stray of the Multiverse, standing on the platform of a mid-century aestheticised monitor room somewhere outside the constraints of time, trying not to double over from the vertiginous aftermath of being thrown through Wade’s weird orange warbling door of space. 

TemPad, he’d called the device. Or… something. You’re half-sure you have a concussion, to be honest.

Alioth had done a number on you. 

Remy’s concerned.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Wade says, mask rolled up to his nose. (There’s a spoon and plate of key lime pie in his hands. You’re not even sure where he got it from.) “Where did Gambit come from? How come he just spawned into the MCU’s metaphysical Backrooms?”

“Candidly, he is a unique case.” 

Remy pulls his gaze from you to Hunter B-15.

“You, Mr. LeBeau, are the prime example of a Variant that’s borne from a timeline decaying just as quickly as it was formed. A rare type that fades instantly without unnatural interference, because an Anchor failed to develop.”

One of the CRT screens zip to a retro rubber-hose animated diagram: rapidly branching roots, ominous red flashing, and then an immediate blink into nothing. Talk about dramatic effect.

“Your Universe falls in the rare category of those that never managed to come into fruition; but sometimes— incredibly rarely— remnants just like you manage to slip through, and instead of ceasing to exist… Well, you automatically end up getting spit into the Void.”

A pause.

Then, from behind, Wade bursts into a cackle.

“Ha! Wow, she basically called you a discontinued fucking nobody,” he wheezes. “You’re quite literally the equivalent of a failed movie pitch that’s been forgotten on the floor of Feige’s writers’ room.”

Screens flicker. 

Your breath hitches. 

Versions of different Gambit’s play out in the monitor-wall, all alike and yet different in their individual realities. Some have black eyes. Some have top-hats (“Ah, that’s 2009 Origins,” Wade muses. “Do all Variants of you just have a beautiful face? I mean, it’s kinda unfair—”). 

Some look like identical copies.

[EARTH-TRN2922].

It’s… your timeline. 

Your friends in the Mutant war. Your Remy whose cards are scattered on the floor, blood in his hands, with you crumbling as you reach ou—

The Nine of Hearts in your pocket is impossibly heavy. You turn away to steel yourself. 

( “Yeah, okay, enough lore recap. Jesus, you guys are more of a dick than I am; Read the room and turn that shit off,” Wade chides a passing agent. He gets it. He’d lost Vanessa once, too, and he’s not quite sure even he can relive that pain. )

“Mais non, y’not makin’ no sense t’me,” Remy says, confused, “I’ve got memories; means I’ve got history jus’ like my Variants. How y’gon’ explain that?”

“Gaps of memories you have— knowledge of places, people, events— that comes from fixed synchronicities shared in your Temporal Aura across all your Multiversal Variants.” 

She’s met with slow, owlish blinks. Wade waves his hand in lazy dismissal.

“Forgive them. They didn’t watch Loki Season One or Two. Not that it matters, anyway. People barely understood what was going on.”

A sigh. “There’s no way to put this gently, Mr LeBeau,” B-15 concludes, tone dipping into something sympathetic. “But what I’m trying to say is that: you don’t have a Universe to go back to, because it never existed.”

She purses her lips as she catches his torn gaze. “I’m sorry.”

And that— That pisses you off.

“I’m… sorry?” you parrot, stepping forward. “That’s all you can say after everything that’s happened to us? His existence began with the Void, and my Universe was pruned by your agents. Innocent lives gone because your people decided they wanted to play God once upon a damn time—!” 

“Pump the hate breaks, you stray,” Wade calls. "Why'd you think I brought the both of you here?"

You reluctantly withdraw.

“I can’t bring you home,” B-15 supplies, matter-of-fact. “But I can find a compatible timeline for you. For both of you. A safe do-over, if you will.”

Wade’s smile is coy.

The ‘Merc with a mouth’ has a home surprisingly… cozy.

Albeit a little tumbledown and messy with its wallpaper-torn brick walls and creaking hardwood floors— but, it’s charming. Lived in. He has a life here in this rickety two-bedroom apartment; framed photographs of friends and snatches of livelihood sit across dressers and are pasted against his magnet-crowded refrigerator.

Reminds you abit of your home, too.

“Listen,” chirps Wade’s voice, somewhere down the short hall to his room. “My advice? Save yourself the identity crisis and brain aneurysm. All this multiversal horse-crap was created just so that Marvel can write themselves out of any corner. Just sit there and be sexy for the readers, okay, Magic Mike?”

You’re halfway towards them when the doorbell rings. 

“Ooh! That must be the pizza I ordered. Or Blind Al. Or Logan.” Wade pops out to sidle past you with a wink and a whispered: “Who knows, really? This is just the part of the story where I conveniently disappear so you and Cajun Tatum here can share a moment.”

You don’t quite understand— but you’ve learned to not bother attempting when it comes to him.

Your knock is soft against the doorframe. 

“Hey.”

Beside a lone corner of the bed, Remy turns to look over his shoulder. 

He’s fresh out the shower— faded towel tied around his waist, brown hair still damp and dripping water down his bare chest. His old clothes have been draped over a desk chair. 

You try not to stare, but—

But. 

He’s handsome. Devilishly so, with the bruises sweeping across the flex of all his stupidly lean, corded muscles.

You always had a thing for roguish-looking men.

“Hi,” he says, knowingly. ( It’s a dulcet croon, if anything. Cheeky bastard. ) “Y’okay? Got y’self cleaned up.”

Remy watches you gather yourself with a quick clear of your throat, pull at the sleeves of the scratchy hoodie you’re now wearing that’s practically swallowing you whole. 

You look rested. At ease. 

…Pretty.

“Yeah. Showered. We don’t smell like ass anymore, that’s for sure,” you say, making a face.

And then you’re nodding over to the black-and-blue contusions blooming over his skin. “You know, I’m sure there’s something frozen in the icebox for that.”

“Icebox?” 

You smile. “Yeah, that’s what you guys call it in Louisiana, right?”

“That we do, chèr,” he laughs. But it’s ducked down, quiet. Thin. “ ‘Least, I think so.”

You follow his downcast eyes to a small stack of folders— TVA files he easily thieved (unsurprisingly) from under their noses the moment he stepped foot into the room. 

He’d skimmed the manila dossiers: Absolute Points. Anchor Beings. Variant Anomalies. Some names he’d recognised and some he didn’t, most stamped or blacklisted. 

Pietro Maximoff. Edward Brock. Loki Laufeyson. 

Remy LeBeau.

Some part of you crumples. It’s one thing to not be able to return to a Universe, and another to not have even had one. 

“S’funny,” he chuckles dryly, picking his casefile up with a distant look, “My memories… I thought I’d done gon’ left a whole life behind me the entire time I been stuck in the Void— Friends. Family. An’ turns out the Void’s all I had.”

“Feels like…” he shrugs. Tries to piece his unmoored thoughts into something more cohesive. He’s never felt so horrifically adrift his entire life— whatever ‘entire life’ could mean for him now, anyway— not even when he'd been marooned in the barren wastelands of the Void.

 “Feels like I ain’t real. Hell, I don’t know what is real, anymore, chèr. I don’t— I just don’t know. I don't know anythin'."

You shake your head in disagreement nigh instantly. 

“No, no.” Pushing off the doorway, you cross the threshold with gentle admonishment lanced over your features. “You’re here. You are real.” 

The room is small. The distance you share is… close. Just enough that you catch the scent of peppermint toothpaste and coconut shampoo; Just enough that you can slide the documents out of his hands.

His fingers brush against yours. 

He wonders if you’d felt the kinetic trill of energy run through him at the contact.

“Can I be honest, Remy?”

You look up at him. 

“Mais oui, chèr. Y’can always be honest wit’ Gambit.”

You wave your hand at the TVA files. “I’m scared as shit being in a new Universe,” you blurt, truthfully. “This second chance means… a new life. New path. New everything. I don’t know what that’s like either and frankly, I am not prepared for this at all.”

You pause for a breath. “But for what it’s worth? I’m glad that you’re here. That’s… That’s about the only thing that I know.”

Then, as if dwarfed by the sheer vulnerability in your words, you take an awkward step back as you shrug. “And if you don’t feel the same, well. You and I, we’ll just have to make do, regardless.”

The sudden retreat is painfully endearing. Has him letting out a bright laugh that warms something nestled deep in your ribs.

“I’m glad I got you too, chèr,” he grins. 

“Yeah?” You flash a smile, having found your way back to the door.

Remy’s eyes fall to your face— tarrying. He follows the flutter of your lashes, the slope of your cheek, the curl of your lips. 

“…Yeah.”

Your idling, fond gaze sears him like a low-grade fever. 

The thrum buzzes in hands, again.

Your Gambit really was blind, he thinks, just as you slip away and disappear around the corner.

His palm flexes open, and shut.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey I was reading your X-men posts and I just had an idea and if it is possible for you can you write about reader was with Bucky or Steve or both (your choice) but they break her heart and she finds love again with Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) or Eric Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) or both (again your choice) and protect her from Steve/Bucky 😅❤️

hi honey! thank you for requesting this, I hope you like what I've written!

summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.

warning - cheating? angst, word whore is used, insecurities, small violence.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Bucky Barnes had been your light since the day The Avengers found you. He had been the one to comfort you when the nightmares would become too much, the one to love you like you’ve never been loved before. So why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you heard him talking to his friends. Why did it feel like the opposite of love?

“I’m so sick of Y/n being attached to me all of the time! And does she really think I love her?! Has she seen herself lately? She’s no Nat or Sharon. She’s just her, plain.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, did I tell you that I hooked up with a smoking hot babe last night?” He smirks. “Man could she bend.”

You suck in a breath quietly, not wanting to be heard and also struggling to hold back your pain. You walk back to your room, quickly packing your things and disappearing into the night. You knew it was too good to be true, not once in your life had anything ever turned out good. You always seemed to end up with the short end of the stick. You had nowhere to go, a bag in your hand and the moon shining down on you. You felt stupid, you should’ve stayed, found a place before you left. 

You decided to walk a few blocks, taking a random train, wanting to distance yourself. You had turned your phone off and threw it away at the first sight of Bucky calling you. You couldn’t turn back now, too busy with your head down, looking at the ground you manage to bump into someone. Your bag falling from your hands, hitting the floor with a thump. “I–I’m so sorry!” You go to kneel but stop when you notice your bag floating in the air. 

“It’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out this late. You don’t know who you might end up bumping into.” You blink, your eyes connecting with blue. The random man hums, “Ah, Y/n L/n. What are you doing so far from home? Don’t you know you have many people looking for you? Some good, some bad.” 

You shrug, “I don’t care…” You wipe your cheeks, ensuring there are no tear marks on them. “Who are you?” 

The unknown man stares, face like stone. Reminding you so much of the man you just left. “And here I thought I made a reputation for myself.” He studies you, “Erik Lehnsherr, but I also go by Magneto.” 

You nod. “It’s nice to meet you. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be…” You lie, you recognise the name, you knew of the people he used to hang around before he fully embraced his dark side. You couldn’t have him handing you back out of spite, you didn’t want to go back. Not after what you heard. 

Erik’s hand flies out, gripping your arm softly. “No, you don’t. But I’m not a total monster, I won’t let a pretty girl like you stay out on the streets all night. God knows what will happen.” He begins to pull you along, ignoring your protests. “Be quiet, don’t make me regret being kind.” 

Your mouth falls open as you stand in front of the X-Mansion, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you realise these people may judge you. You weren’t a mutant, you were a freak, an unloved freak. “I–I can’t stay here!”

“Why not?” Erik looks down at you, “Oh, are you one of those vampires that need inviting in?”

You look up at him with your head tilted, “Huh? What… No. I just, these people are… and I’m me… Plain…” You begin to play with your fingers.

“Hmm, whoever said that should get their eyes checked. Now come. I’m sure Charles is awaiting our arrival.” Instead of dragging you by the arm, he moves his hand and opens it, waiting for you to slip yours into his. 

Months had passed since you had bumped into Erik, Charles had accepted you into their family, proving to you that you were one of them. Erik had come and gone many of times since he had taken you here, and each time you began to dread when he had to leave again. Your relationship with him was okay, it had begun quite stiff and slowly blossomed into a friendship, the only issue is you fell for him. But you knew you weren’t good enough for a man like Erik, Bucky had proved that. 

Today you were excited though, Erik was coming back, and you had decided to wear your favourite dress, remembering the first time you had worn it, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Deep down your insecurities were saying it’s because he hated the dress and was wondering how someone like you could ruin a pretty piece of clothing by wearing it, but another part of you had hoped it was the opposite, that he liked your dress.

You walk out of your room, smoothing out your dress as you begin to head to the door where you hear voices. A smile forms on your face, ready to see Erik again. You enter the room and your smile falls, he had finally found you. You didn’t want to face him, he was the reason you didn’t think you were good enough anymore. 

‘Y/n, I don’t want you to think I invited him, I tried to stop him, but I cannot do much unless I control someone’s mind and you understand why I didn’t, right?’ Charles speaks into your mind, your eyes connect with his and you nod.

“This is where you’ve been this whole time?! Do you know how worried we were?! How could you be so stupid!!” Bucky growls, moving closer. It’s as though you up and leaving him had struck a nerve, but you don’t know why, he didn’t love you like you did him. 

You hated yourself in this moment, you wanted to stand up for yourself and show him that his words didn’t hurt, but everything was coming back, and you couldn’t move or speak. “I–I…” 

“Take one step closer to her and I’ll shove that arm of yours down your throat.” A voice speaks from behind you, Erik steps out from the shadows, moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, calming you down when you didn’t even know you needed to be calm. 

Bucky spins his arm, glaring. “Who are you?” His eyes fall to where Erik’s hand rests before he looks at you. “Is this why you ran off? Because you’re a whore?” Bucky steps forward, ignoring Erik’s warning causing Bucky to let out a cry of pain as his arm begins to get crushed.

“I warned you to not step closer to her. Yet you ignored that and insulted her.” He moves in front of you, pulling you to stay behind him. “Charles may have not wanted to control your mind because he’s a good guy, but I’m not.” With a flick of his hand, Bucky rises and gets thrown through the door. Erik stalks forward and glares at him. “If you ever come near Y/n again, I will kill you.” He makes sure to watch Bucky leave before he turns and walks toward you before you can even open your mouth to thank him, he grips the sides of your face and pulls you in, bringing you into a passionate kiss. 

Was this what love felt like?

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Yooo. Amazing Gambit writing. 💕 Sooooo I was thinking. I’m feral for the new movie Gambit, especially that VOICE, and can’t stop thinking on this.

Soft non-mutant reader who doesn’t deal with violence and blood very well, like sick or panicky because they were so protected growing up, while Remy is trying to protect them during a fight (could be anywhere). Like, bad time bad place thing. But the reader wants to help, by throwing a shoe when they were about to hurt Remy. Chaos ensures when they turn toward the reader.

So as I was writing this, I was thinking "EXCUSE ME THIS IS A GREAT STORY CONCEPT,". Also, Am I able to use this prompt to possibly, maybe add to my 'I need to write this into a multi chap story' Gambit x reader file? But I hope you enjoy :)

The air crackled with tension as the fight erupted around you. It was supposed to be a simple errand, just a quick stop in a small town that had seemed peaceful enough to get a few hours sleep in. But then, as if fate had a cruel sense of humor, things went south, and it went south fast. The sudden ambush, the flash of weapons, and Remy pushing you behind him—everything happened too quickly to process.

You had never been good with violence. The sight of blood made your stomach churn, and the sound of gunfire was enough to send your heart racing in sheer panic. But Remy was so much more different that you, complete polar opposites. He moved through the chaos with a deadly grace, cards charged and ready, every motion calculated and precise. It was like watching a storm unfold, fierce and unstoppable.

You tried to stay out of the way, pressed against a wall, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. But then you saw it—one of the attackers sneaking up behind Remy, a blade glinting in the dim light. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, just acted on pure instinct.

You looked around, hands still pressed against the red brick wall, trying to find something, anything, that would help. You let out a small huff, reaching down and grabbing the closest thing within reach—your dark coloured shoe—and flung it with all your might. It sailed through the air, smacking into the man’s head with a dull thud. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him stumble, giving Remy just enough time to turn and disarm him with a swift, brutal strike.

But then the man's eyes snapped towards you, fury burning in them as he realized where the attack had come from. You froze, heart hammering in your chest, as he took a menacing step toward you. "Shit," You whispered to yourself.

Remy, still engaged with another opponent, glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of the man advancing on you. "What exactly did you think that would achieve?!" he shouted over the noise, his Cajun accent thick with frustration.

You blinked, caught between terror and a strange sort of defiance. "I don't really think about things before doing them, you know?" you shot back, voice trembling but determined. "It's how I ended up here with you to begin with, remember?"

The irony of your words wasn’t lost on you. You’d never been the type to seek out trouble, to dive headfirst into danger. In fact you, thrived staying away from it. Spending most days either inside or at your job. But meeting Remy had changed everything. He was chaos wrapped in charm, a magnet for the kind of trouble you had always been shielded from. And yet, somehow, you’d found yourself dragged into his world, into the madness that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

It had all started so innocently. You’d met him by chance, a twist of fate that had brought the two of you together. He was on the run, tangled up in something that you didn’t fully understand but couldn’t walk away from. Before you knew it, you were caught up in his orbit, swept along by his easy smile and the thrill of something you’d never felt before—excitement, danger, a sense of purpose.

And now, here you were, in the middle of a fight you had no business being in, your shoe—of all things—your only weapon. The absurdity of it might have made you laugh if you weren’t so scared.

The man lunged toward you, but before he could reach you, Remy was there, faster than you could have imagined. He moved like lightning, his bo staff connecting with the man’s side in a sickening crunch that made you wince. The man crumpled to the ground, and Remy turned to you, his eyes flashing with a mix of relief and exasperation.

"When I said stay behind me, ," he stated, his tone showing his annoyance at you, "It wasn't an optional request chère'".

You nodded, swallowing hard as you clung to the remnants of your composure. This wasn’t your world—this world of violence and bloodshed—but it was his, and as long as you were with him, you’d have to find a way to survive it.

Remy’s order to stay behind him was clear, but the chaos around you made it hard to follow. Every sound seemed amplified—the clash of metal, the shouts of your enemies, the pounding of your own heart in your ears. You stumbled back, trying to keep your distance, but the room felt like it was closing in on you, suffocating you with every breath.

Remy was a blur of motion, a dangerous dance of power and precision. You marveled at how he seemed to anticipate every move, every attack, as if the world around him was moving in slow motion. But despite his skill, you could see the strain in his eyes, the worry that flickered every time he glanced back at you.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You knew that much. But there wasn’t time to think about the ‘what ifs’ or the ‘should haves.’ Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting out of this alive.

Another assailant broke away from the fight, making a beeline for you. You instinctively took a step back, your hands trembling as you searched for something—anything—you could use to defend yourself. But there was nothing. No more shoes to throw, no weapons within reach. Just you and the growing dread in your chest.

Before you could react, the man was on you, his hand grabbing your arm with a painful grip. You let out a small cry, the fear surging up, threatening to overwhelm you. His grip tightened, and you could see the cold, calculating look in his eyes—a predator sizing up his prey.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Remy was there, moving like a shadow. He wrenched the man away from you, his eyes blazing with a fury you had never seen before. "I said stay behind me!" he snapped, his accent thick and his voice laced with an edge of desperation.

You didn’t have time to respond before Remy shoved you back, his attention already turning to the next threat. The man who had grabbed you was on the ground, groaning in pain, but Remy didn’t linger. He was already moving, his staff whirling as he took down the next attacker with a brutal efficiency.

You pressed yourself against the wall, your heart still racing, your body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through you. This was too much. The sights, the sounds, the raw violence of it all—it was overwhelming, like you were drowning in a sea of chaos with no way to escape.

But then you saw it—a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye. One of the attackers, a woman with a cruel sneer and a gun raised, aimed directly at Remy. Your breath caught in your throat, your blood running cold as you realized what was about to happen.

There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. Without a weapon, without a plan, you did the only thing you could think of. You threw yourself at her, arms flailing, a wild, desperate attempt to stop her before she could pull the trigger.

The impact surprised her, but it surprised you even more. The two of you tumbled to the ground, her gun skidding across the floor. She cursed, scrambling to get up, but you were already on her, holding her down with a strength you didn’t know you had.

For a moment, everything was a blur. You didn’t think, didn’t feel—just acted, driven by pure instinct and the overwhelming need to protect Remy. But you weren’t a fighter, and it didn’t take long for her to get the upper hand. She rolled you off her, slamming you against the floor with a force that knocked the breath out of you.

Pain radiated through your body, sharp and overwhelming, but you didn’t let go. You couldn’t. You had to hold on, had to keep fighting, because if you didn’t, if you let her win, she would kill Remy. And that thought was more terrifying than anything else.

But you were no match for her. She was stronger, more experienced, and it wasn’t long before she overpowered you. Her hand closed around your throat, squeezing, cutting off your air. You struggled, panic rising as your vision started to blur, dark spots dancing at the edges.

And then, just when you thought it was over, the pressure was gone. You sucked in a desperate breath, gasping for air, as you saw Remy standing over you, the woman unconscious at his feet. He knelt beside you, his face a mask of concern and something else—something raw and unspoken.

“Chère,” he whispered, his voice tight as he reached out to help you up. “You alright?”

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if it was true. Your body hurt, your mind was spinning, and you felt like you might be sick. But you were alive, and so was he. That was all that mattered.

He pulled you to your feet, steadying you as you wobbled, your legs weak beneath you. “I told you t’stay back,” he muttered, though there was no anger in his voice now, only worry.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice hoarse and trembling. “I just… I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand there and watch.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, you saw the walls he usually kept up start to crumble. “I know,” he said quietly, his hand still on your arm, grounding you. “But you gotta trust me t’protect you, alright? This ain’t your fight.”

You nodded again, tears stinging your eyes as the reality of the situation finally started to sink in. You weren’t made for this—for the violence, the blood, the fear. You were out of your depth, dragged into a world you didn’t understand and couldn’t handle. But you couldn’t leave him, either. Not when he needed you.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, feeling the weight of your own inadequacy pressing down on you. “I’m not… I’m not like you, Remy. I can’t do this.”

He shook his head, pulling you into a tight embrace, holding you close against him. “You don’t gotta be like me, chère,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You just gotta be you. And that’s enough.”

You clung to him, burying your face in his chest as the tears finally started to fall. The fight was over, the danger passed, but the fear and the adrenaline still pulsed through you, leaving you shaky and exhausted.

Remy held you, his presence warm and comforting, a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For a long moment, neither of you moved, just stayed there, holding on to each other in the aftermath of the chaos.

Finally, he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hands gently cupping your face. “We’re gonna get outta here, alright?” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “An’ I’m gonna make sure you’re safe. Always.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you wiped at your eyes, trying to pull yourself together. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but stronger than before. “Okay.”

He smiled, a small, reassuring smile that made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and something else—something warm and tender that you didn’t quite know how to name.

“Good,” he said simply, “Let’s get moving.”

You followed him, your hand in his, allowing him to pull you into the street, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. The fight, the fear, the realization that you were in over your head—it all hung heavy in the air. But there was also something else, something that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could handle this after all.

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 2

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender neutral, friends to lovers, himbo Leo (?), one sided pining

Part 1 here, Part 3

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a clooking broach he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

☆

Idk if you can tell but this is kinda Aladdin inspired

Also I wasn't sure abt posting this since it has no Y/N interactions umm so sorry if you're dissapointed

I promise the next one will have fluffy moments between Y/N and Leo!! Sorry this is short

Tag list!!

@lunaflyer @wings-of-sapphire @ssak-i @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @envyjmoney

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"¿Qué hice para merecer esto?" Is what the disgruntled Señor Hueso muttered under his breath, as he watched Leo come crashing into his restaurant.

Of all the times that mutant decides to show up, it had to be on a good day. A loud sigh left the skeleton's mouth as he watched the turtle bump into one of his waiters, knocking all the dishes out of her hand.

"Señor! Señor!" Leo called out eagerly as he approached, "I have a really, really important request and you have to-"

He was interrupted by Hueso placing his hand up, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"Instead of disturbing my guests, Pepino, let's talk in the staff room."

~

Leo was still wiping spilled spaghetti off himself as he spoke. Amazingly, that didn't stop his excited flow.

"Señor, bone head, buddy! Long time no see, right?" Leo asked in an overly friendly manner, offering Hueso a hand.

Hueso glanced at his hand, which had marinara sauce on it, before glancing back at Leo with an unimpressed expression.

"Uf hijo, did you just come here to cause trouble?" He asked rather bluntly.

Leo chuckled to himself, "Of course not! I just came here for a little... help."

"Help?" Hueso repeated, tilting his head as he watched Leo's over excited behavior.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me get my hands on a cloaking brooch." He explained briefly while wiping away the bit of sauce that was on his shoulder.

"A cloaking brooch?" Hueso repeated raising his brow, "Why would you need one of those? I've seen you walk among humans like it's nothing."

"It's not for that."

Leo bit his lip unsure whether he should let the truth spill, no one knew of his little crush and he was afriad if he started talking about them he wouldn't know when to stop. So he took the easier route.

"It's for uh- You know... science." He lied, smiling awkwardly as if that made his reply more believable.

Señor Hueso simply shot him an unconvinced expression.

"Este idiota..." The skeleton muttered under his breath, "Why don't you just say why you really want it? It would save you from the embarrassment of lying to my face."

Yeah, Hueso wasn't buying it. Figures.

"Okay okay, I'll admit that wasn't my best performance," Leo said with a grin, although his trade mark smirk faded into a small frown as Hueso stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

"Truth is I'm trying to impress someone..." He admitted quietly, his gaze darting to the ground, while he fidgeted with his hands sheepishly.

Hueso blinked in surprise at the turtles sudden shyness, "Trying to impress someone?" He repeated curiously, looking back to the blushing turtle for futher confimration.

Leo bit his lip, his heart fluttering at the thought of them, "A human." He confessed softly.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before, they're just perfect in every way!" He explained brightly, though his happy expression faultered, "But, I don't think they'd be interested in, this whole situation." He frowned, gesturing to himself.

Hueso nodded slowly as he listened, "I see," He hummed in reply, looking thoughtful as he considered Leo's situation for a moment, "So you want to pretend to be human and lie to them?"

Leo frowned at the skeletons blutness, "It's not a lie! I'm just... bending... the truth," He said, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

Even he didn't believe himself this time.

"Alright it's kinda a lie, but what other chance do I have?"

"I don't know, tell them the truth?" Hueso retorted, Leo couldn't help but roll his eyes as he was lectured on the obvious answer, "If you really think this person is worth it, then you should be honest with them."

"The last thing I need to be is honest." The turtle insisted stubbornly, his expression souring at the idea of even attemping to tell his crush how he felt.

Leo hated to picture it, he hated that he knew his voice would tremble as he would try his best to convey to them how deeply he felt.

He hated how he knew he would stammer over his words as he scrambled to find the best way to express his feelings.

And then he would have to wait impatiently for their reply, fearing the worst, after this new discovery.

Not like he could blame Y/N.

Who wouldn't turn down a nervous idiot? And why would anyone ever be interested in someone who looks like him?

"I don't want to risk losing them." Leo finally said, sighing before meeting Hueso gaze again with a serious expression.

"Look, all I need is a brooch. I just want a chance to be with them and make them happy. Please, Señor?"

As Hueso watched Leo's sad expression he was still unsure how to reply, he knew this was an awful idea yet Leo seemed so attached to it. The puppy dog eyes that the blue masked turtle was giving him eventually casused a defeated sigh escape Hueso's mouth.

"Fine, I have a spare somewhere around here," Hueso muttered reluctantly, too tired to keep pushing, turning to his desk and opening a drawer, "Just don't blame me when things go terribly wrong."

Leo's expression immediately brightened.

"Really?!" He leaned over Señor Hueso's shoulder, eagerly watching as the skeleton searched.

Eventually, Hueso found it, a gold gemstone-adorned brooch.

As Leo looked at the badazzled brooch, excitement began to bubble in his chest, the glamorous item really did make this whole situation seem a lot cooler. This was his key to being Y/N's perfect romantic partner, something he'd dreamed of for far too long that was now finally a possibility. His heart soared at the thought.

"Here," Hueso said, handing him the brooch, "Try not to get spaghetti on it, Pepino."

Leo was practically vibrating with excitement as the brooch was placed into his hands. He nodded at Hueso's words despite not really hearing them.

"Thanks Señor! I can keep this right?" He asked.

"Just don't damage it." Hueso warned in reply, "If you do, it could stop-"

But before he got the chance to finish his words, Leo had disappeared into another blue portal.

"-working..."

[petrssecrethideout]

I'd hoped I would get at least a few days of peace after having to move back in with my dad, but within a few hours I heard honking outside the house. I waited for it to die down as I unpacked my stuff, before going outside to see the one person I couldn't face.

I knew Hunter better than anyone, but now i barely recognized him. the man in front of me had hundreds of pounds on the man I left, his bulk replaced with cut muscle. He had grown a beard too, changed his haircut. He looked so good it made my stomach turn.

"Took you long enough," Hunter said, lounging in his truck bed. I could see the flare of his lats even as he relaxed. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Unpacking," I said trying not to show any guilt or discomfort "What do you want?"

Hunter responded by tapping the tailgate, a motion that just meant to come sit down. I did without thinking, just like i had seen him do for me. It was the most common thing we used to do, besides almost get caught fucking. It was just nice to... talk.

Now, I could feel the body heat radiating off of him as I leaned back against his arm, feeling his bicep against my back. I'd never been so close to so much muscle in my life. I was in awe, mostly just confused on how it happened. I looked down to see his shorts, the only thing he was wearing, were much shorter than I was used to. He used to be afraid of wearing anything that cut off above the knee, too afraid of "looking gay". He must've changed a lot.

"So, how have you been?"

"Pretty good," Hunter said his accent just as thick as ever. "I got a job down at the the steel factory that pays pretty well, and I'm going to the gym again. I think I might be the biggest guy there now."

"I'll say! How the hell did that happen?" I exclaimed.

"Well," Hunter "One of my buddies told me about this Mutant Juice stuff, and I just thought it was some kinda hoax, but it was fucking crazy. Expensive as hell, but I think I'm getting my money's worth. I thought I'd just stop after a round or two, but at this point I think I'm just gonna keep growing until it stops working. Just get real fucking big, bigger than anyone else around here. Maybe I could even be on the ads for this stuff, flexing all of this muscle wearing almost nothing. I think I'd look pretty good like that, don't you?"

He knew what he was doing, and it was working. I needed to feel him, to hold him, to rip those shorts off and just have him again, but something still stopped me.

"You like all of these muscles?" Hunter said, reading my expression. He slowly bounced his pecs. "You always did stare at me a lot. God, did I love it. Still do. Something about the looks you give makes me feel like a fucking beast."

I could feel my dick straining my pants, begging for release. I couldn't do that, not yet. I had to find something else to talk about.

"How's your family?" I asked, veering the conversation away form anything too horny.

the words poured out of my mouth, but it immediately got Hunter to stop bouncing his pecs. Something in his expression changed, he looked... pissed.

"We haven't talked in almost a year. After you left without a word I told them, and... it didn't go well. I got a place of my own after a while." Hunter said

"You weren't..." I could feel my own heart shattering. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. I was the weird one, the freak. His life was perfectly mapped out, just like all of the men around here that had come before him. A decent job, a christian marriage, kids before 25. He had a happy life ahead of him, and I selfishly ruined that.

"I didn't stop being gay when you left. Even if that's what you wanted." Hunter said, his voice filled with a cold anger. "I was just...alone."

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I tried to blink them away, before I felt his arm wrap around me and pull me towards his torso. the feeling of being in a hug of his was enough to get me to cry.

"I missed you." I said.

"I missed you too." Hunter replied as he sniffled from crying. "Y'know, for someone so smart I don't know why you sent that letter. Dear Hunter, I love you, I'll never forget the time we had, but please forget about me. I can't ruin your life. What the hell did you think was gonna happen?"

"I was trying to be all poetic, and self-sacrificial, and... yeah it was bullshit but I thought I was corrupting you. I still kind of do."

"You ain't doing shit. All you did was help me figure out who I actually wanted to be, which is gay and fuckin' massive. I'm just glad I can finally do both of those things now without anyone telling me I can't."

My head nuzzled into his neck as I thought about the man I was currently holding growing even larger. My hands couldn't even fully reach around his back as it was, what was I going to do if It got even wider?

"I'm glad to have you back, even if it won't be forever." Hunter said.

"Maybe next time you could come with me?" I asked, a question I knew would get shot down the last time we talked. He loved his family, and his hometown too much to ever leave, but he had changed a lot since I left.

"Sure. we'll do it together."

[fungalittleweirdo]

Maybe one one of the brothers(rise) with a crush on reader but hears from Casey that resder marries/falls in love with someone else/doesn't make it.Whatever you feel like.ALSO LETS GO NEW WRITING BLOCK‼️‼️‼️

cyrill my friend i am going to feed you so well here

hmmmm

donatello x male reader, set a couple years after kraang-- the good timeline

i asked my friends to pick a turtle and a gender so i got that lol

i'll get more organised as i write more on this blog trust meee </3

enjoy!

Communicate With Your Lab Partner, Donatello!

"I see the way you look at him, Donnie."

He blinks, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head with an awkward laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about Casey, it's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about him lately. I hope he and his eventual partner are happy together, that's all. I want my lab partner to be happy." Donatello's face contorts for a moment before it finally lands on an off-putting smile, "Anything but could affect the efficiency of which our labs are conducted."

Casey shakes his head and looks away, "Now I regret telling you about them." The time traveller sighs, standing up to frown at the softshell mutant. Donatello waves him off and urges him out of his lab, muttering about how Casey has nothing to worry about and that he would carry on like normal. But that very night he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his lab, blinking away the blurring of his vision. Donnie reaches for his phone without adjusting his posture, holding it above his face to check the time.

2:42 am.

He yawns, scrolling up to find his lab partner had texted him a funny picture of some cat meme. Donnie's lips curl up and his chest blooms with warmth as he reacts to the photo with a laughing face emoji, then responds with a meme of his own. His friend reacts with a straight faced emoji, responding with you're not funny, stop pretending you are. Donatello rolls his eyes, continuing to talk to him as the hours pass by, and when he checks the time again it is seven in the morning. It's time for the spiny softshell to head to bed even though he was meant to stay up all night regardless.

Lab Partner (7:02 AM): I know you should be heading to sleep now, but before you go, what's the weather going to be like Friday night?

Donatello sits up straight and winces as his neck's pain receptors send massive signals to his tired turtle brain, screaming at him to go to bed. He opts to shrimp over his keyboard as he checks his weather prediction algorithm, finding that there would be a seventy percent chance of rain over the tri-state area. He texts the extensive information to his lab partner, then asks him why he needs to know.

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): I asked this person out to go to Central Park expecting it to be sunny because of this week's forecast

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): But I trust your weather algorithm a lot more

Lab Partner (7:12 AM): Especially since they let Warren Stone back on the air

Delivered (7:12 AM): Scoff, any weatherman who associates themselves with that literal worm cannot be trusted for the weather. You came to the right turtle.

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Yeah, I know I did

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Get some rest, okay Don? I love you <3

Donatello's heart skips a beat and he stares at the screen for a moment, blinking at the three silly little words he somehow feels like he stole. Just for a moment, I could pretend... he thinks, pursing his lips as he responds in kind, then gets up from his chair to turn everything off in his lab, save for the emergency low lights. He begins heading toward his bedroom with his phone off in his hand.

The softshell is now lying awake, staring at his ceiling as he lay in bed fantasising of silly things he thought could never happen. It's bothering him, he knows it, but he doesn't feel like paying a visit to Dr. Feelings. His hand's gentle caresses on his plastron remind him of how his lab partner would hug him from behind and sway with him as he works, even though it always distracts him for a moment. The stim always brings him down to earth when he is in too deep in his work. Donatello misses the way he nuzzles into him when he's sleepy, spending days working on something together and letting him sleep on the air mattress he has set up in the corner. He misses the opportunities in which his lab partner would ask for him to sleep beside him, curling up in each other's arms.

Now that he thinks about it, Donatello and his lab partner are not strictly platonic, the way they interact with each other is quite intimate. The turtle blushes at the memory of his lips carefully planting kisses on his lab partner's head, and him doing the same. It was kismet, the way they met, since Donnie's lab partner was a former member of the Purple Dragons. Kendra let him go after he started spending too much time with the softshell rather than just spying on him. He risked so much for me, Donatello thinks, wringing his hands as he blinks away his exhaustion. He decides to take matters into his own hands, falling asleep with an uneasy feeling in his gut.

~

Donnie's lab partner wakes up with a start after a four hour sleep, promising Leo he would sleep more, then berating him for staying up late too. He makes himself a small breakfast and goes through his phone, then gets ready for his free day. Donnie calls him and he answers with a dramatic groan of annoyance. "Don, I swear, go back to sleep," he starts packing a bag to go out while listening to Donnie whine over the phone.

"I know! I know! You told me to rest and I already did. But you didn't sleep enough either so you're a hypocrite. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Can it wait? You need to sleep, dude."

"No, it can't."

Donnie seems to take a shaky breath, then speaks again.

"I need to tell you something important and I can't wait another day to tell you."

The mutant's lab partner sighs, then nods, even if 'Tello couldn't see him make the gesture.

"Yeah, I'll be over tonight. As long as you rest."

"I promise... I love you."

He pauses, the words ringing in his ears, bouncing around in his head like a screensaver avoiding the corners of its device. He's never heard Donnie say those words out loud before. He's never said them to him either, so the initiative shocks him into silence. Before the boy could respond, Donnie hung up the call and he stands in the kitchen with toast crumbs in his palm and marmalade on his fingers.

The difference between saying it out loud and sending it over text is made apparent in the boy's head, a realisation taking over as his heart beat faster in his rib cage. Oh... no... Being Donnie's lab partner has been fun these past few years, especially developing a close friendship like the one they have, but he finally realises how he must have come across. I should get my errands done quick to be at the lair in a timely manner, he thinks, washing his hands and grabbing his things to step out of his apartment, locking the door and starting his day.

~

Donatello is bleary-eyed and yawning to the point where his throat is dry. He stumbles into the kitchen to look for a glass of water, asking S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to serve him some hydration. He gulps it down instantly and slams the glass down on the counter, then jumps at the voice in the corner of the kitchen.

"Happy to see you're drinking water, 'Tello."

An awkward smile plasters itself upon his face as he turns toward his lab partner, looking him up and down. He is wearing comfortable clothes as if he plans to stay a while. His tail twitches before he stops it from wagging in excitement.

"Ah, my favourite friend! I... I expected you to come to the lair much later."

"I can see that," He raises an eyebrow as he gives Donatello a once over, noting the black sweatpants he donned. "Cold?" The boy's arms snake their way around Donatello's waist and he jumps at the contact, nudging him away with a robotic laugh.

"Cold? Scoff! Who said I was cold?" Donatello now feels awake enough to serve himself his own water, watching it fill his glass as his friend stood beside him curiously. Then he gulps the entire glass down again.

"You usually wear clothes down here when you're cold. You don't opt for pyjamas like your brothers either, so you must be cold."

"Oh dear lab partner, how dare you use your observational skills on me."

Said lab partner chuckles and leans against the fridge. "You also don't reject my physical advances toward you... Is today a bad tactile sensory day?" He taps in a pattern against the countertop, signalling to Donatello that he is mildly worried. The softshell sighs and puts the glass down in the sink, stretching and cracking his limbs. He inhales through his nose, then exhales cool air that gradually calms him down.

"I am afraid of what I want to talk about."

The boy's eyes widen, his face depicts concern, and he moves on to sit on the stool beside the rack holding the pots and pans. Donatello goes to sit on the counter across from him. A couple beats of silence pass as the two look at each other, studying one another's body language. The turtle came to the conclusion that his lab partner is laidback enough to take the conversation seriously but without too much panic. He feels relaxed enough to continue talking, so he does.

"I am aware that the future Casey speaks of—whenever he feels ready to, that is—is much different compared to ours. Everything that happened in that timeline is completely irrelevant to now due to the butterfly effect. You know, how a flap of a butterfly's wings could summon a hurricane? Well... something he told me keeps nagging me. It keeps this voice in my head rambling on and on, it won't stop telling me things that make me feel... Things. I don't know what! I am feeling things and I hate when I do because I can't label them!"

Donatello stands up and begins pacing, cracking his fingers one by one as he continues to talk and his lab partner listens.

"Casey told me you had a partner in the future. It was great at first... spending a little under a decade together... then they were possessed by Kraang biomatter. You... you disobeyed Leo's orders to look for them, to capture them and keep them under control for when I found a serum to inject in them, one that could kill off the Kraang schmuck but leave their human flesh unaffected... But you didn't make it back to base."

He stands from the stool he sat on and approached Donatello, carefully holding his hands out, palms facing up. The softshell takes his hands and revels in their softness, visibly relaxing and staying put.

"Your passing is not what affects me the most," Donatello reaches up to cup his friend's cheek in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across his face. "It's you sharing your affections with anyone other than I. That is what is bothering me."

The boy freezes, blinking up at Donatello with a confused smile. "You're the only one I share moments like these with. I don't understand what you're saying," he giggles, reaching up to squeeze Donatello's hand. The scientist is equally as perplexed.

"I'm saying that I love you."

He stands up straighter, rigid and unyielding. Heat spreads upon his face and he looks away, his laugh wavering.

"You know, hearing that in person sounds a lot better."

Donatello still holds his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

"I love you too, Donnie."

The mutant feels lightheaded when he exhales, then leans in for a second before stopping himself. His lab partner grins, nodding while he bites his lip knowingly. Donatello springs into action, gripping his friend's shoulders and pulling him in to meld his lips on his, tasting, savouring, fluttering his eyes shut as a grin stretched across his face, parting from the kiss with muddy, blushing cheeks.

"Can we do that more? That was really nice. I would like to open a document for this... if you let me."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his favourite turtle closer.

"Yes, you may, 'Tello. We have all the time in the world."

[feyhunter78]

Dearer than I?

Description: You must choose between betraying your dear friend or your dearest love. Got bored during my last half hour of work, and that TikTok audio has been stuck in my head, so here's my attempt to purge it from my mind. Enjoy!!!

His hand is outstretched, patient but pleading, his eyes, dark and intense, but somehow still soft as sunlight settling on the ocean floor.

Your arms are wrapped around yourself, tight and desperate, attempting to keep yourself from metaphorically spilling onto the sand, a bloody mess of grief and regret, of anger and loss.

“Please in yakunaj.” His voice is a whisper, breaking at the end, and it feels as if someone has taken a spear and jammed it through your chest.

You want to look away, you’re desperate to, but cannot. His eyes always draw you back, he need not open his mouth to sing, you were ensnared by a single glance, by the kaleidoscope of warm colors weaved within his eyes.

The invisible thread that exists between you and him keeps you pinned in place. “I would be betraying Shuri, she is my friend, I owe her my life.”

“You would betray me, instead?” He asked, voice still soft, as if it would pain him to raise it.

You wished he would yell, scream, rage, do anything, be anything, but this soft broken K’uk’ulkan that stands before you.

You swallow hard, blinking away tears, your lips move but no sound escapes.

The waves crash on the shore, the nightbirds sing, the wind swirls between the two of you, and you take a step forward. Towards him, the man—the god—the mutant—whatever the hell he is, and he takes in a quick breath, chest expanding as you draw closer.

“I love you.” You manage to utter, your heart in a vice grip, the pressure of the choice you must make weighs so heavily upon you, and you wish to collapse, to drown, rather than make it.

“Then take my hand, burn the world with me.” He pleaded, the moonlight bathing him in her soft glow, shining off the gold he adorned himself with.

All his focus is on you, every flicker within his eyes, every rise and fall of his chest, every syllable that passes through those perfectly formed lips, is for you.

“I would be betraying Wakanda, the very country I left my home to protect, the one who embraced me even though I did not bear her blood.” You stressed, praying he would understand, that somehow, he would make the decision for you.

“And you believe Talkon would not do the same? That they would not welcome you with open arms, that my people would not rejoice in the fact that I have found my queen?” His fingers twitched as if he wished to take your hand, to press it to his heart as he often did when making silent promises.

“I didn’t say that—”

The anguish is clear in his low voice as he cuts you off. “You are mine, my queen, you have stolen my heart and held it captive within your chest. I cannot retrieve it without cracking open your ribs and ripping it out, and to do so—to do so would end me. I cannot fathom harming you in reina, do not force my hand, I beg of you.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, your heart pounds against your chest so strongly for a moment you think that perhaps he is right, his heart resides beside your own, for your heart never possessed such strength. “If I could return it to you, I would, K’uk’ulkan I would never wish you pain, never wish to force your hand.”

His tone is angry now, words sharp as the weapons his people favor, but his eyes remain swirling pools of grief. “I do not want it back, it is yours. I want you. I want the woman I love by my side, where I can protect her.”

You’re on the brink of sobbing, of falling to the sand and crying until your tears flow, so heavily you become one with the sea. “I cannot betray them; they are dear to me.”

His fingers curl inwards, slowly, mournfully. “Dearer than I?”

You shake your head, mind a whirlwind of choices, of answers, of guilt and grief, and want.

You want to be with K’uk’ulkan, you want to ease his pain, to smooth out the furrow of his brow, to sit by his side and be his queen. You are both immortal, if Talkon remained hidden, you would rule together for eternity.

“No, no one is dearer than you.” You admit, half-adoringly, half-helplessly.

You are helpless against the torrent that is your affections for him, helpless to the call of his heart to yours. He’s wrong, his heart does not reside within your chest, beside your own, for yours has slipped between the cracks of your ribs and into his own. He carries your heart as you carry his.

“Then I do not under—”

It’s your turn to cut him off. You take his hand, unfurling it, and bringing it to your cheek before you kiss him. Fervently, desperately, wishing to drown in him before your grief chokes you. “No one, there is no one dearer than you.” You assure him, willing your heart to return to your chest, to free him from this torment.

Your heart gives no answer except beating in time with his, two drums of war echoing each other’s call.

He cradles your cheek, his free arm wrapping around your waist, crushing you against him. “In reina, in reina, in reina.” He whispered over and over as he brushed soft, grateful kisses to every inch of your skin. “I love you, only you, I am yours.”

“I am yours, your queen.” You echo, letting him take you under, the world muffled by the sea.

You would not face Shuri, would not return to Wakanda until she was long dead, perhaps then you could seek forgiveness from her grave.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Humans And Mutants - Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: Past Illuminated

Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Jean, Ororo, Mystique (Mentioned), Magento, Stryker (Mentioned), Kurt, Bobby, Rogue, Charles (Mentioned), and Pyro (Mentioned)

WC: 1,455

Warnings: X-Men canon fighting, still canon storyline soft of, Logan's past mentioned, slow burn, tension, child abuse mentioned, slight angst, mini fluff

(Sorry, if this series is a bit odd, I made this in 2018)

Logan, Jean, Ororo, and Y/N sat on one side of the campfire, while Magneto and Mystique sat on the other. They stared at each other in silence. You fidgeted in your spot, staring into the fire until it made your face hot and your eyes tear up slightly. You blinked rapidly before looking down at the grass, digging your boots into the dirt below.

“His name is William Stryker.” Magneto finally spoke.

“What does he want?” Ororo asked as she sat on the log in front of the fire.

Logan glared at Magneto, not trusting the man before him, “That’s exactly the same question we should be asking Magneto.” Logan answered, irritated, and the man in question just sighed as Logan continued, “So, what is it? What do you want?”

“When Stryker invaded your mansion he stole an essential piece of its hardware.” Magneto spoke as Ororo pursed her lips in confusion, her eyes narrowed.

“Cerebro?” She asked as Magneto shifted in his seat.

Magneto cleared his throat before speaking, “Charles and I built Cerebro as a tool, a tool I believed would unite us all. But, the good Professor, as with all things, never truly explored its full potential.” He explained as you, Jean, and Ororo listened carefully, as Logan boiled in his seat. “In the wrong hands, I fear it could be used as a powerful weapon against mutants.”

He finished.

“But Stryker would need the Professor to operate it.” Jean spoke up, as Magneto nodded.

“Which is the only reason why I think he’s still alive.” Magneto said deeply.

Logan glared at Magneto, unable to push his suspicions away, what did he have planned?

~~~

At the kid’s camp, Pyro stared at the fire, lost in it as Bobby turned to Rouge. “Can you hear what they’re saying?” He asked his girlfriend as she shook her head.

“They’re too quiet.” She stated.

“I… I can get a closer look.” Kurt said sheepishly, wanting to help the teens.

“How?” Rouge asked him, tilting her head.

In a cloud of smoke, Kurt vanished as the teens stared at each other, impressed.

“Nice.” Bobby said, a small grin on his face.

High above the campfire, the Nightcrawler hung upside-down by his tail. No one noticed him as Logan continued to glare at Magento, not believing him at all. “How would Stryker know where Cerebro is or how it works?”

Magneto paused, he lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, exposing his round scar. He seemed flustered and resigned before he spoke up once more, “Because I told him. Stryker has positive methods of… Persuasion, even against a mutant as strong as Charles.”

Magneto continued.

“Please understand if we don’t take it all in good faith, but why do you need us?” Ororo asked, tilting her head to the side, as Magneto cleared his throat.

“Stryker has a base he’s been operating out of for decades. And I don’t know where it is. But I suspect one of you might.” He turned to Logan and eyed him skeptically.

Logan ignored Magento’s gaze, “Who the hell is this Stryker anyway?”

“Are you sure you don’t remember, Logan? The metal on your bones carries his signature.” Magneto said as Logan just stared at him.

The understanding escaped through his body. Magneto looked to Jean, she looked back to Magneto. “But the Professor tried…” Logan began only for Magento to interrupt him.

“No, he didn’t. He's always known.”

Realization gave way to much doubt and dishonesty. Logan turned to Jean.

“I can’t. If those memories exist, they’re buried very deep.” Jean spoke, frowning as Logan turned to stare at the fire.

A long moment of stillness went on until someone conversed. The night air was chill but the fire in front of the X-Team, Magneto, and Mystique kept them warm. Crickets could be heard, chirping, hiding in the bushes and tall grass. You bit your lip briefly, rubbing your hands together as you tried to warm them. You tried to choose whether or not to speak up or not. You never really spoke about your past or any of your other powers. This was going to be a huge step for you, but this was important to Logan and the team… Mostly to Logan. You knew that if you were in his position, you’d want to know what had happened in your forgotten past. 

You looked over at Logan, his dark eyes lit up by the flames of the fire in front of him. A deep frown laid on his face, his hair disheveled and hands clasped tightly on his lap. You could feel the pain radiating off of him. You needed to speak up.

“I can do it.” Everyone turned towards you, making you feel a little bit nervous with all the sudden eyes on you.

“I thought you had teleportation?” Ororo asked, confused as you let out a small hiss through your teeth, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Oh, I do. But, that’s not all I can do.” You spoke before explaining, “I was… I was experimented on when I was little. The scientists injected me with stuff and electrified my mind in hopes of me getting a genetic mutation or any mutation for that matter. At the end of their torture, I ended up with mind mutations powers.” You finished, unable to look anyone in the eyes as you finally told your truth.

“What can you do?” Jean asked, making you shrug a shoulder, fidgeting with a patch on the left arm of your jacket.

“I- I can read memories, and I can erase memories, and more. And I think I could do it.” Minutes later, everyone sat silently as they watched you leave your spot and walk over to Logan. Sitting down beside him, you turned your body to face him. Waiting patiently, you watched as Logan slowly turned to you, staring down at you uncertainly. Slowly, you reached both your hands out towards his face, making his back a bit. “Chillax.” You tried to calm him with a soft whisper. You closed your eyes, your hands finding their place on his stubbled cheeks, your fingers brushing his temple.

Logan looked at you before closing his own eyes, “I hope you know what you’re doing…” He muttered, only for you to shush him.

“Shut up, I’m working here.”

You grimaced as blurry visions from Logan’s mind flashed in your mind. Your mind saw many images, blurry and confusing, coming and going swiftly until it came to one. You could see Logan clearly. He was at a bar, talking to a military officer. It flashed again to Logan riding in the back of a military truck. The truck was driving past a tremendous frozen barrier, entering a tunnel from above ground. There was snowfall everywhere. It flashed again, Logan walked into a medical lab, doctors crowded around a giant tank. Then, in the last vision, you watched in horror as Logan screamed and yelled in pain. The water in the tank splashing and sloshing around as he trembled and tried to escape the restraints. With a flash, the images end. You pull away, exhausted, you hold onto your head as your heart raced; trying to regain your breath. You held back tears as you looked up at Logan.

“Stryker is at Alkali Lake.” You answered, your voice soft, as the others around you looked at you in shock.

“I was just there. I saw that base. Nothing’s left.” Logan said insistently, as you only shook your head, regretting it after as a headache began to spawn.

“That’s because he’s below it.” You muttered, before quickly getting up from the old log and heading over to the teenagers.

Logan watched as you left, his hands clenching and unclenching before he reluctantly looked away. He stared back at the fire, wanting to know what you had seen. You were able to break through his mind, past the barrier, and see his past. You were able to see what he went thought, and he wanted to know what it was. For years he was searching for the answers... And you had them all. Glancing over to the teens' fire, you sat on the cold, damp grass, holding the side of your head.

Logan wanted to go over there and talk to you, but what you had done for him had seemed to have taken a lot out of you. He didn't want to bother you, no matter how desperately he wanted to know about his forgotten past. Logan also began to wonder, as he watched as you flopped onto the grass below you, he wondered more about you... And why he was feeling this way.

------

@ashdoctor @powergirlsupremacy

Slashed out means Tumblr won't let me tag you.

[chloeillustrates16]

Grounding

Summary: It's been years since Leo was saved from the Prison Dimension. Now, he needs help with his nightmares.

Pairing: Rise! Leonardo X Fem! Reader

Warnings: PTSD, fluff, anxiety, Friends to Lovers, established friendship, aged up characters (Leo is 20, Y/n is 19)

Leonardo stared out to the loud, bright city streets from the rooftop. It’s been years since the Kraang tried to invade; Leo was trying to clear his head. The nightmare still lingered in the back of it; he pulled out his phone, texting the only person that he knew that he could go to without worrying his family. Y/n. 

Y/n has known the turtles since the Kraang invasion, Leo had saved her life during it. Ever since then, Y/n and the guys have been friends. Y/n was a Sophomore in high school (the same age as Mikey). Now, she’s a Sophomore in college. 

Leo knocked on her window, hoping that she didn’t have a test in the morning. Y/n rubbed her eyes, opening her window. “Leo?” 

“Hey, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” 

“No, don’t worry about it. What’s up, Leon?” She mumbled, rubbing her face with her hand. 

“I really need to talk to someone, right now.” Y/n moved so Leo could slip inside her room. He landed on her bed; she wasn’t too far away, her back against her wall. Her room had a romantic aesthetic with a lot of decor on the walls with decorative vines and fairy lights on her walls and ceiling. Her room gave him a cozy vibe. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Leo pressed his temple against the window seal, pulling off his bandana. 

“Do you blame me for the invasion?” 

“No,” she answered, truthfully. “Why would you think that?” 

“I was the reason that it happened in the first place; I fucked up by letting my ego get in the way, having the Foot get the key. Hell, in another timeline everyone died because of me!”

“Leo, the Foot would’ve gotten it eventually if you’d known or not. Secondly, Leo, that didn’t happen in this timeline, did it?” 

“No.” He whispered under his breath, 

“Then, you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for what happened in another timeline. Casey came back to warn you about the invasion to stop it. That order was on you; you did that.” Leo let out a tired sigh, 

“I have nightmares still; nightmares about still being stuck in the prison dimension with Kraang.” Y/n reached out, holding Leo’s hand tenderly. “That Mikey never got me out and that me being home and safe was all an illusion for my crazed mind.” 

“Leo, take a deep breath and close your eyes, okay?” He looked at her a bit confused before nodding and closing his eyes. He took a long shaky breath, 

“Now, what do you hear?” 

“Your voice, the cars outside, the TV in the other room, your parents talking.” 

“What do you feel?” 

“Like mentally or-?” “Physically,” she answered quickly. 

“Your soft bed sheets and blankets, your warm hand, the window seal.” He took another long breath, not as shaky as last time. He needed that, someone to ground him to reality. 

“Open your eyes slowly for me.” He did, blinking them open as he took in her bedroom and her. “What do you see?” 

“Your decorations, your dresser, bookshelf, desk.” His eyes darted about the room before landing on her. “You,” he squeezed her hands a bit with a smile. “Thank you.” Leo took in her (h/l) (h/c), her (e/c) eyes, her soft skin against his rough scales. He felt her hands squeeze his back; he noticed how she looked against the low lighting of the fairy lights. Her skin has a golden sheen against them.

Leo swallowed thickly before he leaned in closer to her face; she gave him a confused look. “Leo, what are you-?” Before she could get out anymore, he kissed her. After getting over the shock, Y/n leaned into his lips. It was strange kissing a mutant turtle, but she didn’t hate it. Pulling away, Leo let out a laugh, 

“Sorry, I… don’t know what got over me.” 

“Don’t be,” She smiled. “I liked it.” Leo’s voice turned flirty, 

“Good, ‘cause I’m doing it again.” 

Wow, it's been a hot minute since I wrote anything on here. I'm so sorry about that; I've been really busy with school and have experienced major writers block as well. I really hope you enjoyed this little Leo x reader fic that I just randomly thought of. Thank you for all the support and love, on here.

[deliontower]

a millon reasons | b.b

pairing: gn!mutant!reader x bucky barnes

summary: Sam, Nat, Bucky and y/n all go on a undercover mission together. where y/n has to trick a mod boss. Bucky and y/n fight the whole time until things take a turn.

word count: 2.1k with song lyrics

warnings: angst, swearing, kind of haters to lovers, little fluff at the end, mentions of past and current violence,

a/n: this has took me far to long to write and I’m very sorry for that but my inspiration has finally come back to me and I finished this! Actually missed writing for marvel too! Might be a little different from the request hope that’s okay <3

Requested by @caritobbg

MASTERLIST REQUEST

It was just his luck the one morning he woke up early enough to have swim before he left for a mission, you’d be there too. Sat on the edge of the pool at the deep end, your feet dangling in the water. Reading a book with a German title.

Rolling his eyes he looked away from you and began swimming laps. There was something off about you, maybe it was the fact that you were a mutant, maybe he’d never really knew. After doing five laps he looked up again and you were gone, your book lay in the spot you had been.

He turned in a full circle looking for where you could be, did he miss you leave? Are why leave the book?

“What you looking for Barnes?” you smirked making him jump.

He gave you a hard look studying you, your skin had taken on a shinely scale look, your pupils had turned thin. “You were watching me?”. He swam further away from you.

You laughed a sweet sound, he froze. You cringed at what you unknowingly did, you mentally made a note to push yourself harder in training. “That would mean you were interesting. Which you aren't’”. You swam with grace to him, “Nervous about the mission, Barnes?”.

“Would you stop calling me that!” he snapped.

You blink, “James then? Has a nice ring to it”.

He opened and closed his mouth.

You smirk again, “Well James i’ll see you later”, you lowered yourself fully into the water and swam away.

Bucky watched you flip through another book in the jet, he couldn’t understand how you got through them so quickly.

“Are you listening?” Sam asked at you.

Not looking up you nodded, “I need to distract an arms dealer called Mike Burr, Ideally with my voice” you turned a page, “You guys are gonna want to wear those blockers Stark made, the metal is basically the only thing that can block my mutant powers”. You put the book down giving all your attention to Sam. “I got this and you guys have got me” you smiled showing off two pointy teeth, “this is gonna be easy”.

“We’re in luck you’re not as well known as us” Nat said nodding to the siren”

“Good to know my training worked” you noted.

Bucky tilted his head, “and what exactly was your training, you never said”.

You met his eyes smirking, that was his first mistake.

“Well growing my power first off, sadly control was never really on the curriculum” Before he could comment she continued, “then French, German, Spanish and of course Russian, very basic. Sorry Nat”.

Nat just laughed, shaking her head.

The siren laughed too, it wasn’t as high as it was in the pool. “Then basic fighting. I’m very flexible” you winked to Bucky.

He looked away annoyed, looking to Sam to see his take on you, but of course he thought Sam was laughing too.

“Any more questions James?” .

In the back of the La Rue, Bucky stood by the stage door while you got ready. The colour of your outfit studied your skin tone so much even Bucky had to compliment you. Still he blamed the Siren part of you, that part was designed to lure people in.

You met his eyes through the mirror. “Something you like, James?” You grinned. You turned in your chair and faced him, “Or do you see me as a threat?”.

“How do I know you’re not?” he asked, for a moment the smile fell, you blinked at him then turned back to the mirror.

“You’re so serious, it’s getting old” you muttered rolling your eyes, With a loud thud you kicked the chair back. “Then again, it was never young”.

You both looked at each other, maybe it wasn’t the siren part that lured him in, all he wanted to do was hold you close. “You guys ready?”.

You moved first, gracefully Bucky thought, you were always graceful. “Yeah we’re going out now” you spoke to Sam through your ear piece.

The first night passed by unsuccessfully, Burr was at the club but showed little interest in you as you were just serving drinks. You knew Bucky was annoyed the mission was let down, it wasn't done in one night, you were thankful that you didn’t have to share a room with him. You actually nearly cried tears of joy when you were put in Nat’s room.

Normally you were fine sharing a room with whoever but something about Bucky rubbed you the wrong way. He hated you and you knew it, sometimes you would look up and just see glaring at you.

Honestly you knew you didn’t help the situation much, but it brought you a lot of joy annoying him. Calling him James was your new favourite thing.

Nat kicked the side of your bed making you mutter something obscene. She chuckled, shaking her head, “The guys have invited us to their room for a drink”.

“You mean Sam did” you corrected him, “Bucky wouldn’t invite me if his life depended on it”.

Nat huffed, still smiling, “let's see if a few drinks won’t loosen you both” she winked.

You hummed not believing her.

Just as you expected Bucky just watched you while Sam and Nat chatted loudly to fill the empty silence, you were more open to talking than Bucky was. It wasn’t fair to Sam nor Nat, they didn’t have a problem with you.

Thinking that you got annoyed, you didn’t have a problem with Bucky, he was the one with the problem. Scoffing, you looked down.

“What’s up with you?” Bucky shot in your direction. Sam and Nat grew quiet.

You raised your head. “Huh?”.

“Huffing and scoffing in your corner”.

“Supposed to glaring and brooding in yours” you shot back. His moment of shock gave you a rush to go on. “I think it’s about time you tell me whatever I’ve done to piss you off so much”.

He sucked in his lips.

“Go on” you hissed through your teeth.

“I don’t trust you. You were trained to draw people in and destroy them. Why should anyone trust you?” He spoke like they facts.

This time he took your moment of shock to carry on.

“You said so yourself you have no control over your power. You said it wasn’t taught but how long have you had to learn? I think you like the power you have”.

“Buck-” Sam finally spoke.

“No” you cut him off, “Let him finish”.

Shock came over Bucky again. The calmness in you was a surprise, but he carried on, “You are impulsive and arrogant, I think it’s likely Burr will discover who you are and you’ll put us all at risk”.

“Well thank you for your opinion on my skills and training, James” you stated face unmoving. “Don’t worry I’ll be out of your hair soon” everyone looked at you confused. “I have been contacted by another group, a bit more secret than the avengers and I’m going to take them up on it. Lucky for me they like impulsive and arrogant mutants”.

Nat called after you as you left the room.

Everything Bucky said was true, you were impulsive, arrogant and a mutant. When you first got the offer you pushed it aside, happy where you were in life, helping the world with a team you loved.

But after tonight you were done. Your whole life had been about embracing your mutant gene and the powers it had given you. Yes you admitted to yourself your control was a weak point, but you knew when and when not to use it, or really who to use it on.

I could have this whole world in the palm of my hands, you thought. I could have them all begging for freedom. I could- no you stopped thinking. That was not who you were, you wanted and you do help people.

The more you thought about Bucky words the more they hurt. You would get this mission done and never see any of them again.

The next night you sat again before the mirror in the dressing room of the club, you were dressed in another eye-catching outfit, maybe even more so than the night before.

The door behind you softly opened, “I’m not in the mood James” you said loudly. Bucky still walked in, frowning.

“How did you know it was me?” He asked.

You rolled your shoulders, “your footsteps, I can tell who's who”.

“I want to apologise about what I said”.

You stood from the chair looking at yourself one last time, “what’s been said can’t be taken back, I’ll be gone soon so none of this matters”.

The lights made it nearly impossible to see into the crowd but you knew that Burr was out there, the music you had picked slowly started.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

Your voice came out soft and luring, just what you needed, as the song went on you could feel your power in the air, the call stretching out from the stage.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

The song boarded on being too personal, you were still cut up about what Bucky had said, no matter how much you told yourself he didn’t have to like you, it didn’t help. It wasn’t your actions he hated, it was who you were.

And if you say something that you might even mean

It's hard to even fathom which parts I should believe

Can't you give me what I'm needin', needin'

His words still stung, Steve had told you stories about Bucky, a kind Bucky, so those words were even more of a shock.

Every heartbreak makes it hard to keep the faith

But baby, I just need one good one

Good one, good one, good one, good one, good one

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But baby, I just need one good one, good one

Tell me that you'll be the good one, good one

Baby, I just need one good one to stay

By the end of the song, you felt the tears on your cheeks, the lights had lowered giving you a wide view of the crowd in one smokey corner at Burr. You made a point to meet his eyes before retreating into a private room, through your ear pierce you heard Sam tell you Burr was making a room to follow.

Nat and Bucky were moving into their places, sitting down on a velvet couch they kept their eyes locked on the door. After a few moments Burr entered. You smiled, nodding to the spot beside you.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?’ You asked sweetly.

He joined you, his hand resting on your knee. “That was quite an act”.

“You’re too kind” you shook your head, getting closer, “it was just a song”.

“A very personal song, No?” He spoke flatty. You smiled dropped for less an a second. He had gotten too close, too fast. One hand held your jaw and the other scraps something around your neck.

The moment the lock clicked in place you felt it, your power pulled from you. A human scream left your lips as you fell to the floor. Try as you might, you couldn’t get the collar off.

Burr stood high above you, watching you fight and panic. He threw something to the floor by you, the same blockers the team was wearing. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognise a munt when I see one”. Your whole body went cold, he knelt down lifting your chin with his finger. “What a pretty price you’ll bring to me”.

You refused to cry, it went against everything you stood for.

He grinned, somehow even more pleased. “Or maybe I’ll keep you to myself, I could rule the word with someone like you”. You smashed your head against his, he swore and hit the fall behind him.

You jumped to your feet and towered over him, pressing your foot down onto his throat. “Or maybe I’ll sell you” you spat, “I will not be the puppet for anyone else ever again.

The door to the back room was kicked open by Bucky who came running in holding up a gun. His face relaxed incessantly seeing you were okay. All the fire fell from your body seeing him. He ran to you, pulling you into his arms.

Next came Nat and Sam who put Burr into cuffs. They found the key and unlocked the collar from your neck without disturbing you and Bucky. “You’re okay” wasn't a question he already knew.

“Basic training” you shrugged.

[d-andilion]

in perpetuity

another one for @whataboutthebard!

prompt: whump - forced marriage and forbidden love

(geraskier, T, prince!jaskier, knight!geralt, secret relationship, angst, i hurt myself with this one folks, 2.9k, read on ao3)

As a child, Geralt dreamed of becoming a knight. He saw himself atop a noble steed adorned in gleaming steel armor, flying the colors of a great house. His sword would be the bringer of justice, the upholder of order. In the name of his liege, he would protect the innocent and drive out evil from the shadows. He would be a peacekeeper. A hero.

Witchers were not knights. Vesemir spent decades drilling that fact into Geralt’s head. He killed monsters, yes, but his protection extended to whoever paid him. Innocence and wealth rarely came hand in hand. Too often, the lords he had once wished to serve and the knights he’d idolized were the monsters no one could fight, much less a lone Witcher. Still, Geralt did the job he’d been trained for and took contracts for the smallfolk when he could. It was all he had.

When the monsters died out, Geralt and his brethren were left with only their swords. Just steel now. The silver, they buried in the rubble at Kaer Morhen. Witchers were no longer needed, but mutants made good mercenaries. It wasn’t so different, really. Geralt swung his sword for the rich and powerful, and was paid well for his trouble. And when the odd penniless farmer with hungry little mouths to feed offered him shelter to drive off a stray wolf or a few bandits, he did what he could.

Geralt never expected to bear the knighthood the nameless child he once was dreamed of. He didn’t want it, not anymore. Taking orders from spoiled shitheads for a living was grim enough without pretending he deserved a commendation for it. Every knight he’d ever met was a pompous moron who’d never seen a real fight. The last thing Geralt wanted was a place among their ranks.

Then he took a contract from King Arthur Pankratz.

It was an unusual contract. Geralt typically found himself handling border disputes or guarding wares for trade, half a world away from seats of power. He rarely had cause to meet the nobles that employed him, but this one brought him to the steps of Lettenhove Castle. Some sort of epidemic had swept their tiny kingdom the winter prior, crippling their defenses. Geralt and the few hundred others who accepted King Arthur’s contract were to serve as palace guards and city patrol until more citizens could be recruited and trained.

The work was dull but the wage was more than fair and the barracks were far finer than his usual accommodations, so Geralt was happy to sign away twelve months of his service. He even earned himself some extra coin and palace lodgings to help train the new recruits. It was shaping up to be the best year he’d had in half a century.

Prince Julian arrived a few weeks after Geralt did. The king’s youngest spent a few years touring the world after he graduated from the Continent's most prestigious institution, but his father had called him home in the wake of their kingdom’s recent turmoil. 

Geralt didn’t think much of the news. Julian had three older siblings in the palace and Geralt could count the times he’d seen any of them on one hand. The few veteran guards Geralt worked with on training duty were sure the prince would find a way out of the castle as quickly as he’s come, but they warned Geralt to be wary. Prince Julian—Jaskier as he insisted on calling himself—was made of trouble, they said. Better safe than sorry.

The day they met, Geralt didn’t even realize he was speaking to a prince. No one bowed to the fop in a sunny yellow ensemble as he marched onto the training grounds, a lute slung over his back and a crown of dandelions in his hair. No one seemed to blink an eye as he meandered lazily between sparing circles and drill sessions like he belonged there. He wore no gold or jewels, sported no attendants or complement of guards. He looked like a bard if Geralt had ever seen one.

The bard eventually made his way to where Geralt stood supervising his recruits, flashing Geralt a grin that dripped confidence and scanning him up and down with bright blue eyes.

“Now you look interesting,” the bard drawled. “I love the way you stand there and brood.”

“Fuck off, bard,” Geralt replied. There was a choking sound to his left and the guard beside him started to cough vigorously. Geralt shot him a curious glance and turned back to scrutinize his recruits. 

The bard just laughed. “Come on now, I’m sure you have a few stories to tell. I’ll give you one in return if you like.”

“Busy,” Geralt barked.

“What about later, then?” the bard asked. He was close enough now that Geralt could feel the heat of his body along his side. “I’d be happy to find somewhere more… private to chat.”

Geralt was never the most sensitive man, but he knew when he was being propositioned. Credit where it was due, the bard had balls. Geralt leveled him with a stony glare. The bard could certainly have fallen into the vague category of Geralt’s type. Tall with broad shoulders hidden beneath artfully tailored fabric, an undeniably pretty face, eyes that could set him apart in a sea of faces. And he had this spark about him, a fire burning under his skin that made him a beacon Geralt didn’t want to resist.

Geralt hadn’t realized he was about to accept the bard’s offer until much later. Regardless, he never got the chance. A harried palace attendant interrupted whatever little moment had bloomed, panting her way across the courtyard.

“There you are, your royal highness!” she called between harsh gulps of air. “You will be late for the council briefing. We must go at once!”

Prince Jaskier breathed a disappointed sigh. “To be continued,” he muttered for only Geralt to hear. Then he turned on his heel and followed his attendant, to her palpable relief.

Geralt had been sure he would be executed, but no one came for his head that day or any day after. The other guards assured him that Jaskier was unlikely to demand retribution for Geralt’s disrespect. On the contrary, the prince had taken a shine to him. The trouble would come, they warned, when that shine turned into something a little more tangible. The prince didn’t mind sleeping with commoners, but his father was far less forgiving. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

But Jaskier kept coming back. To the training grounds, to Geralt’s patrol routes, to the canteen where the guards took their meals. At first, his constant chatter was infuriating, but Geralt came to find it almost soothing, a rhythm he could sink into and even find a bit of comfort in. Before long, Jaskier coaxed stories out of Geralt too; about monsters, yes, but about him, about his path as his life. He found himself telling Jaskier more than he’d ever told anyone besides his brothers.

The spoiled, reckless royal Geralt envisioned Jaskier to be disappeared day by day. Jaskier could be impulsive and sometimes even careless, but more than any of that, he was free. His heart flew on a summer breeze and his smile carried pure sunlight. He was warmth given form like nothing Geralt had ever known. Inescapably beautiful. 

Falling into bed together was a terrible idea, and Geralt knew that. By the time he finally gave in, he knew it didn’t matter if he fucked Jaskier or not. It was too late to save anything from breaking. Geralt was already completely, enduringly in love with him.

When Geralt’s contract with the king ended and Jaskier begged him to stay, he didn’t even think about saying no. Where would he go without Jaskier anyway? Who would he be there? How could he fight another bandit or guard another wagon of grain when he knew what it felt like to hold the sun’s fire in his hands without burning?

To stay at Jaskier’s side, Geralt swore himself to his service. A loyal sword to guard the prince’s back and keep his council, in perpetuity. Forever. It was the only vow Geralt had ever made and he intended it to be the last. By the law of the land, a royal sworn sword became a knight the moment his vow left his lips. Geralt’s dream finally came to pass.

His fantasies had never been quite like this.

In one of Lettenhove’s many fine receiving halls, sunlight pours through high stained glass windows onto a sorry scene indeed. Jaskier is slouched in his chair, golden crown crooked atop his head as he glares down from the raised dais he occupies. Geralt stands at Jaskier’s right hand as he always does, trying with limited success to focus on scanning the room for potential threats. The lord kneeling below them, whose name Geralt forgot moments after he heard it, has been droning on for what feels like days.

Knighthood is very little like Geralt’s childish imaginings. There’s no armor or billowing cape to start. Geralt flatly refused to wear them in any context that wasn’t ceremonial. He’s not letting Jaskier be run through by an assassin because his sworn protector was too slow under four stones of armor to save him. When they’re off palace grounds, Geralt wears a better-kept version of his old leather armor. Most days, he dresses in a fine but flexible doublet with his sword at his hip.

There isn’t a great deal of fighting either. Outside of the training grounds, Geralt hasn’t seen a real scrap since before he took his vow nearly three years ago. The vast majority of his days are spent like this: following Jaskier as he goes about his business through the castle, watching his back and offering input on matters when requested. 

As of late, their time has been occupied by more and more lords and ladies of who-fucking-cares, coming to make their bid for the hand of their prince. King Arthur let it be known a few months back that his youngest child would marry by the end of winter. Now the leaves have begun to turn and the castle is filled to the brim with would-be suitors. 

Jaskier has been notoriously hostile to every single one of them, but no one has yet been deterred from trying. The current Lord Whatshisface has been walking them through his entire family tree to illustrate what a strong couple they would make for the better part of the last hour. Even the lord’s own staff look to be flagging; the knight on his left has yawned three times in the space of a few minutes. The lord starts up on a tangent about his sixth cousin’s great-great-grandmother, and that seems to be the limit for Jaskier.

“Fuck’s sake, I can’t take another minute of this,” Jaskier says.

The lord blinks stupidly. “Your royal highness?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored in my entire life! Were your born this way or did you have to work at it?”

Geralt contains a snort as the lord begins to flounder, sputtering in place of a reply. Jaskier stands and removes his crown, then drops it in the hands of the nearest servant with none of the delicacy required for a thousand-year-old family heirloom. Geralt follows Jaskier dutifully, a smug grin on his lips, as Jaskier marches down the steps of the dais and out of the receiving room without sparing the lord another glance.

They’re quiet in the halls—too many ears with ulterior motives to speak freely—but the moment they’re back in Jaskier’s rooms, he sprawls over the settee and begins his tirade.

“Can you believe that bumbling idiot?” Jaskier groans while Geralt makes a quick round of the room. He doubts very highly that someone is snooping behind the drapes, but being overly cautious is part of his job description. “I mean, honestly, do you think they breed them to be this dull? Is there a secret storehouse of mind-numbingly boring people with impeccable manners that I don’t know about?”

Geralt doesn’t reply. Jaskier doesn’t really need him to at this stage of ranting. Instead, he pokes his head into each chamber in Jaskier’s rooms as part of his rounds. When he returns to the sitting room, Jaskier has thrown his doublet across the back of the settee and his boots are somehow on opposite sides of the room

“What did you think of that one?” Jaskier asks. Geralt snorts.

“Useless popinjay like all the rest of them.”

Jaskier laughs at that. “At least he kept any miserable excuses for poetry to himself. What was it the last one called me? Lady Whatsername?”

Geralt remembers that exchange all too well despite every attempt to forget it. “‘Julian,’” he recites, “‘my dewy frog in the shining swamp of desire—’”

“Oh dear, that’s quite enough, thank you,” says Jaskier with a face like he’s smelled something awful. “And my father genuinely expects me to marry one of them. Lucky for me, I have no intention whatsoever of going through with it.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop a few degrees. It’s suddenly unbearably quiet, the sort of quiet that starts to scream after a while. They don’t often discuss what King Arthur’s winter deadline means for them. There isn’t much to talk about from Geralt’s perspective. He can’t do anything to stop it. 

Jaskier has made his intention to frighten his suitors away very clear, but his father doesn’t seem to ever run out of options to put in front of him. His only other coping strategy seems to be statements of denial, each one a little less confident than the last. In the spring, his voice was sure and his eyes burned with defiance. Now, with the autumn treeline visible from his window, he makes himself small. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt tries tentatively.

“I won’t do it,” Jaskier snaps shakily without looking up. His hands ball up into white-knuckled fists in his lap. “He can’t force me.”

Geralt takes a deep, slow breath. Inhale. Exhale. “You well know that he can. And if he has to, he will.”

“He can’t!” Jaskier cries into the blaring silence. He makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a snarl as he tries to breathe. “It isn’t… It’s not fair.”

Jaskier looks up at him then, and Geralt wishes he hadn’t. His blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. He looks helpless, furiously helpless, and there’s nothing Geralt can do about it. The vow Geralt took to protect him is meaningless here. He can’t save Jaskier from this.

Geralt traces the curve of Jaskier’s flushed cheek as gently as he can with his rough, calloused fingers, and Jaskier leans into the touch. Anything Geralt could say feels woefully inadequate right now, so he says nothing.

Jaskier stands, fingers curling tightly into the front of Geralt’s doublet. His eyes search the empty space in front of him for something he can’t seem to find. An answer, a hope, a prayer.

“My great grandfather’s younger sister married a knight,” he says. “There’s precedent.”

“It isn’t the same to them. You know it isn’t,” says Geralt evenly. Most knights hail from noble families. The gaping loophole in their code of fealty is the only reason Geralt is standing here right now. Jaskier’s father would never let him marry a commoner, a Witcher, knight or not.

Jaskier barks a hollow tearful laugh. “So you are good enough to die for me, but not good enough to love me?”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s face with both hands wordlessly and presses a kiss to his forehead. Jaskier trembles under his touch. When Geralt pulls back, Jaskier’s eyes bore into his, and Geralt can see Jaskier’s heart breaking in them, though he still hasn’t shed a tear. His prince, so beautiful, so brave.

“What happens to you, then?” Jaskier asks. “When I’m marching down the aisle with my useless popinjay, where will you be?”

“Guarding your back, the way I always have.”

“And then?”

Geralt brings their foreheads together, his nose brushing Jaskier’s. 

“I swore you an oath of fealty,” he says. “Not the kingdom, not your father, not the gods. You. I’m not proud, Jaskier. I don’t need to be your husband to stay by your side. Whoever you marry, it doesn’t matter. I’m yours. In perpetuity.”

The echo of Geralt’s vow hangs heavily between them. He made it selfishly, as means to dig out a place for himself in Jaskier’s life, but Geralt still meant every word of it then and he means it now. Jaskier’s eyes flutter shut, but Geralt keeps looking. He wants to drink in every detail of what it feels like to hold his prince, his bard, his sun, in his arms.

“We could run away,” Jaskier whispers wistfully.

Geralt knows Jaskier doesn’t mean it. For all his fury and threats, Jaskier loves his family and his people. He would never abandon them, not for anything.

“Alright,” Geralt whispers back. “Where?”

“Anywhere. The coast.”

An image comes to Geralt’s mind. Jaskier, shirt billowing in the ocean breeze, bare feet sinking into the sand. The sunset casts him in shades of gold as he laughs without a care in the world. He is safe. He is happy. He is free.

Geralt closes his eyes on that faraway dream.

“The coast it is.”

~~

w.a.t.b. masterlist

[lazypanartist]

One Kinda Sus Leonardo x Reader for ya--

I just straight up refer to this one as Kiss The Homies Goodnight wcshdgsj-

("So, how long have you two been dating?"

The blue-clad ninja yelped and jolted, whipping around before sighing in frustration at his older brother.

"Raph, seriously. We aren't dating."

The large snapping turtle just gave the younger sibling a confused look, eyes trailing back to the exit you left through. "You...called em Babes??"

"...Yeah?"

...Was Raphael just missing something?? He looked over toward Leo's twin, his own lost expression not helping.

"Donnie, you saw that right?"

"Uh, yeah. Nardo, I'm not great at the whole 'feelings' thing, but that was far from platonic. You got called Hot Stuff. That's...not very friendly, if you catch my drift. The drift being that I'm accusing you of hiding the fact you're dating."

The red-eared slider stiffened, bristling some. "I'm not- neither of us are! We aren't dating! That's just-we're close friends!!"

Michelangelo walked into the lair, holding onto a skateboard. "What are we talking about?"

"Leo's dating his bestie."

"I am not! Geez!! That's my budd-"

"Eh? I thought that was common knowledge. I caught them kissing goodbye one night."

Leo sighed and rolled his eyes at the others' shocked looks, waving the accusations off. "It's not like that. Its just what we do!! We're friends, nothing more. Haven't you ever kissed your homies goodnight??")

Ever since that day, three of the four turtle mutants were losing their minds, especially once they REALLY started paying attention to what the duo did. It really ground Leon's gears at how often he caught his brothers spying on his hangouts with you. It was so frustrating!! And then they'd turn around and accuse them of being a couple?!

It made Leonardo want to laugh. But he couldn't right now. You were straddling the reptilian, make-up brush in hand as you worked on dolling him up. The two of you had planned a concert date, and he wouldn't want to-

HANGOUT. Hangout. Not a date.

His brothers were getting into his head...

"Hey, Hotshot. Quit squirming or I'm going to stab your eye or something."

He blinked up at you, head unintentionally moving and making you hiss and grip his face and yank it back into position. "S'horry! I go'h a lo'h on muh mimd."

The slightly heated black eyeliner pencil went to retracing his crescent moon markings, making them pop by lining them. You had dusted his eyelids with some gold glitter, something flashy and fun. He had already done your makeup, a bit messy but you never minded. You had to do your eyeliner, but he instructed how he wanted it to look.

You had to admit, the blue was fun and colourful.

"What's got your pretty lil' head in a spin, huh? Is it my eyes or the hips?"

That got him to snort a laugh, you backing away briefly for him to get the sillies out of his system.

"Ugh, you know its your smile, Babes. Lights up the whole room!"

You grinned at that as you turned, picking up a different eyeliner- this one a brush- and continued your work.

"Mh, I guess it's my brothers. They're being weird and its getting to me. They need to butt out..."

"What is it this time? Doctor Feelings raking you over the coals over your reckless tendencies and fear of being the cause of your family getting hurt, or is it more Donnie wanting to use you as a test subject?"

"Okay, first off: Ow." A finger was pressed to your nose, squishing it as the owner pushed you back and away. The white and blue flames under his eyes were coming along nicely. "Warn a guy before you completely read them to filth."

"Sorry, hot stuff," you murmured, squeezing his hands comfortingly and kissing him, the mutant meeting you halfway like second nature as you shared a peck. "What about then?"

"Uh...that, actually. The um- they think we're... man, its so embarrassing, they think we're dating."

You barked a laugh, tossing your brushes and pallettes in your makeup case. "I think you're looking killer- Also that's so stupid?? Is that why Mikey was at Hueso's pretending he was invisible when we went on out weekly dinner out?"

"Yeah!! Donnie gave me a whole lecture. Powepoint and everything. Did you know....Holding hands is.... ✨Intimate✨"

Cackling, you lightly batted at Leo's shoulder. "Oh my god, never. Wait, that makes so much sense now about why Raph keeps side eying anytime you lay on me when we watch movies."

"Ugh, you're so right. Man, I'm SO sorry about my brothers, they just dont understand."

"SMH I bet none of em even kiss their homies goodnight."

"Shockingly no."

"Sad lives they lead."

You and Leo laughed more as you stood, helping him up and helping adjust his Human Disguise. The ninja sighed after a bit, slinging his arm around your waist. "Man, I'm sorry about all that. Got your wallet? Tickets? Keys?"

"Check, check, check. Finally put my motorcycle key on the keyring too, I know, hold your applause. And it's fine, honestly. It's so funny. I think its cute. Should we mess with them?"

Leo snorted, watching to make sure you locked your apartment door before you both strode down the hall, the two of you strutting and flaunting a bit to one another playfully. You both looked FINE, and knew it.

"Oh absolutely. Besides, could you imagine it? Us, dating? Thats so weird."

You huffed and rolled your eyes and you threw a leg over your motorcycle, Leonardo hopping on and wrapping his arms around you. The two of you made sure to secure your helmets before you began to back awkwardly out of the parking space you had.

"Man we need to get another drive in before it gets too cold. And right?? I gave up on you liking me back ages ago. Like, you could do so much better-"

Your words died on your tongue when your bike halted. Frowning, you looked down and back to see two toed feet dug into the pavement.

"Hey, Hotshot, I need you to pick up your feet. I cant clear the space."

"...Did you just say you... liked me...?"

Just gotta - just gotta Kith heem

But honestly? Can see the being his impromptu confession. & Even if he says he gave up on you liking him?? He probably just didn't want to hope too hard anymore

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Every Rose Has It's Thorn

Part 11

Part 12

Part 10

Universe: Teenage Mutant Teenage Turtles (Bayverse aged-up turtles)

Rating: R MINORS DNI: (swearing) Mentions injuries, blood, death, and violence, suggestive moments

Raphael x OC (female character), Leonardo x OC (female character), Donatello x April O'Neil

Tags: trigger warning mentions bruises and injuries and dark content, fluff, original character, slow burn romance, Leo and Raph fighting, jealousy, angst, Apriltello

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Donnie's POV of the story so far, and some much-needed filling in of some plot holes and backstory. This is also funny, because Donnie is funny. I also firmly believe that Don would swear like a SAILOR

I wanted to showcase Don and Mike's relationship a bit more in this, and show Donnie's perspective of the Raph-Rose-Leo mess hehe also Apriltello!

I also really wanted to write the "Pork rind?" scene from the 1990 movie since I started this story, so here ya go

Shit, the compounds are failing to form stable molecular interactions.

Fuck.

Donnie ran a hand over his tired face, willing himself to stay awake as he sat at his lab desk. He had to fix this, had to figure this out. It was all his fault. Rose had been forgiving of his mistake, but he couldn’t seriously believe she wanted to stay like this. Like them.

He had been so excited a few days ago. An opportunity to be a real scientist, like his idols, came into his lap and foolishly he disregarded all possibility of failure. He should’ve ran more tests! Something! There must have been some way he could’ve prevented this!

His brow furrowed, and he stared at the stacks of papers and data charts strewn across his desk. Finally, the tension reached a boiling point. With a sudden, fierce movement, Don swept his arm across the desk, sending papers, charts, and notes flying in every direction.

"Damn it!" he shouted, the sound echoing through the empty lab.

He stood there, chest heaving, staring at the mess he had created. For a moment, he felt a slight relief in the chaotic silence that followed, the scattered papers a perfect mirror to how cluttered his mind felt.

When they had brought Rose home with them that first night and he had bandaged her up, he had thought of the cure all that Sacks had mentioned. Donnie had entertained the thought from time to time, occasionally working on it in his lab, but they had never had a reason for him to actually make it. He liked the idea of it, but without you know, all the torture. The mutagen in their blood intrigued him, and now that there was a very injured human in front of him he finally had a reason to put in the effort. He had set to work immediately, after patching her up and helping the guys get her to Raph’s room.

Donnie had worked all morning, only stopping when Mikey started making breakfast. He sleepily shuffled over to the coffee maker in the kitchen, half listening to what his brothers were talking about. Blinking slowly, he drank the steaming black sludge down; the way Mikey made coffee was equivalent to diesel fuel with mud in it. Donnie preferred grinding his own beans, that were tucked away in his lab far away from his brothers. It was his secret stash.

Wincing, he drank his brother’s atrocity against nature and leaned against the wall. Raph and Leo were arguing about the mission last night, shocker. Donnie rolled his eyes over the rim of his mug. He was way too tired for any of…that.

He glanced over to the smaller orange blur behind the stove; it looked like Mikey was making pancakes. The sweet, familiar scent of batter and syrup was slowly filling the air. Mikey hummed a cheerful tune, oblivious to the chaos around him, and the sight brought a small, appreciative smile to Donnie’s face. He walked over to the island.

“Morning, Mikey.”

“Sup, Donnie! How’d you sleep?”

“I didn’t, Mikey. Speaking of which, why is this coffee so thick? What’d you put in here, dirt?”

“I dunno, Dee. I used two cups, like you said.”

“…what.”

“You told me to use two cups of coffee grounds.”

“Oh my god, Mikey. No. I said two scoops. Of the coffee ground scoop. Holy shit.”

Donnie laughed heartily, while a bewildered Mikey scratched his head, looking sheepish.

"Well, that explains why it's practically sludge," Donnie said, shaking his head in amusement. Mikey smiled broadly and shrugged his shoulders.

Raph’s voice cut over the sounds of the stove and their conversation, grabbing the youngest’s attention.

“Leo she was gunna die, you think I’m just gunna sit back while you have a cup of tea and think? Somebody had to do somethin’, and you’re just pissed it wasn’t you.”

Mikey rolled his eyes.

“Hey when you guys are done with the same argument you have every 20 minutes, can we talk about how cute that girl is? If it wasn’t obvious, diiibs!”

Leo and Raph grunted a chorus of “Shut up, Mikey,” but the orange-banded turtle had effectively squashed whatever argument was growing between them. Donnie knew how smart his brother really was, he just hid it behind a facade of “Radicals” and kickflips. Mikey did everything with purpose; he was goofy, but not an idiot. Besides the coffee, apparently.

Leo raised a hand, signaling a halt, and Donnie looked over to where his brother’s eyes were trained; Raph’s door.

Everyone tensed as the woman emerged from the bedroom, all expecting a scream or worse. There was no reaction, just a doe-eyed gaze as she took in the guys and her surroundings.

Leo broke the silence as he introduced himself, always the gentleman. She looked fairly okay despite her injuries, Donnie thought. At the sound of his name he snapped out of his thoughts, stepping forward.

“How are you feeling this morning, Rose? Have you bled through any bandages, noticed any more swelling?”

“No, I think everything held up okay. Whoever did the bandaging knew what they were doing, thank you.”

“You’re welcome." He glanced at the bandage on her neck. “That shouldn’t scar, it was a small cut and didn’t bleed much. But let me know if you’re experiencing pain, I have medications that will help.”

He smiled and walked back to the table, grabbing some breakfast. The pancakes smelled so good, and the sooner he ate, the sooner he could get back to the serum project.

But Donnie quickly lost his appetite.

Because Raph was being so…fucking…weird.

He had just stood there, staring at her while everyone else sat down. Donnie could tell that his brother thought he looked tough, standing there with his arms crossed over his giant chest like that, but it was just so awkward. Rose had noticed, obviously.

But the weirdest part was that she was…into it.

The two of them stared each other down, like two lions eyeing a zebra carcass, and it made Donnie nauseous. He was grateful when she finally broke the tension, but he definitely didn’t expect her to be so bold.

“Are you gunna come sit down or would you rather keep making eyes at me all day?” She called over to Raph, smirking.

Mikey almost choked on his eggs, and Donnie facepalmed so hard he nearly knocked his glasses off. "Why can't we have nice breakfasts?" he mumbled under his breath.

Raph went white as a sheet and fumbled a comeback before storming off to the weight room.

Rose began joking around with Mikey about something idiotic, and Donnie looked over to Leo with an irritated huff. Having two Mikey’s around the lair would certainly not be productive, for anyone. Leo laughed and shrugged his shoulders. Donnie watched his older brother glance back at her smiling softly, a look of…something..coloring his features.

Interesting , Donnie thought.

Just as he was about to finally dig into his pancakes, Splinter walked into the room and scared the shit out of their house guest. She looked absolutely terrified. He just wanted to eat his breakfast, christ.

She and Splinter chatted for a moment, and they all learned a little about her. He noted to himself to ask her about her Japan travels at some point. As he was half-listening and playing with his ice-cold cakes, he caught the tail-end of what Splinter was saying.

“We would love to hear about your travels some day my dear, “he said, eyeing his sons. “But perhaps another time. You should be getting back to the surface, it is almost noon.”

“Master Splinter,” Donnie cut in. “Her wounds still need attention; I would prefer she stay here at least for a day so I can monitor her condition. I’m worried about her broken rib-” The rat lifted a hand and Donnie stopped.

Donnie resisted an eyeroll, he hated when his Dad and Leo did that.

“I don’t mind the company; I was only concerned that her life on the surface would be disturbed.” Turning to Rose he smiled, “Stay as long as you like dear. Though, Raphael may argue with the invitation if he has to continue sleeping on the couch.” Laughing to himself, he moved swiftly away from the table and walked upstairs to where a balcony with more plants sat in front of paper sliding doors.

Rose turned to Donnie.

“About the medical stuff, what exactly is going on with me?”

Donnie paused for a moment before answering. He didn’t want to scare her, but got the feeling that Rose didn’t appreciate things being sugar-coated, so he gave it to her straight.

“Well, you have a few bruised bones, but one of your ribs is definitely broken. I’m worried about you moving around too much. If you rest and ice the area it should heal in a few weeks, but I’ve been working on a serum combined with the mutagen in our blood that may speed up the healing process. If you’re willing to wait a few days, I may be able to have it ready to test.”

The seconds before she responded had been agony. Donnie couldn’t tell if she was going to react positively or negatively, and the anticipation was killing him. He wanted to do this so fucking bad.

“Wow, ah..sure, why not?”

Yes .

He couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on his lips. This is the opportunity he’d been waiting for. Suddenly he felt a warmth on his arm, and he looked down. She had touched him.

“Thanks, Donnie.”

He blushed and mumbled a “you’re welcome, no problem” before heading over to the lab to get started, rubbing his arm. Besides April, he didn’t really let anyone close enough to touch him like that. Brushing it off, he pushed his glasses up on his face as he twirled in his lab chair and excitedly got to work.

========================

Hours later a ping of his phone brought him out of his focus, the text tone his favorite sound in the world: April.

PurplePeopleEater: hey baby, whatcha up to?

PoptartLicker: hi darlin, just working on that serum again I do have news actually

PurplePeopleEater: oh? what’s up?

PoptartLicker: sooo there’s a girl here

PurplePeopleEater: WHAT

I’m coming over

also Donnie WTF why is my name PurplePeopleEater

PoptartLicker: idk what you’re talking about, babe

sure, are you headed over now?

PurplePeopleEater changed their name to April

April: It’ll be a few hours, I have some interviews to do and a broadcast at 9 pm

wait up for me?

PoptartLicker changed April’s name to DonsGirl

PoptartLicker: of course, darlin

DonsGirl: I like that name a lot better <3

After the blush faded from his face, he left his lab to get a coffee refill (of his own stuff, Mikey’s sludge was dumped out long ago) and to check on his patient. Her face looked pale, though she smiled broadly when he walked up to where her and Mikey were parked on the couch playing video games. Don quickly retreated to his lab and came back, handing her a bottle of pills.

“These are pain meds, take them if it gets worse. Hopefully I’ll finish with the serum soon enough.”

She looked up at him and nodded, quickly uncapping the bottle and swallowing a few of the pills. Yeah, she was definitely in pain. He raised his cup in her direction and went back to his lab, turning on his jams so he could focus. Donnie was determined to finish this serum, and it was going to be perfect.

At some point, in between a song ending and beginning over his speakers, he heard a voice from the living room. It sounded like an angel singing. Don turned his music down, listening more intently now. He stood up from his lab chair and followed the sound to the entry to the living room, where he found Rose singing along to the rockband game she and Mike were playing, her voice filling the room with the hauntingly beautiful melody. Her eyes were closed, lost in the music, and Don couldn't help but pause in awe at the unexpected sight of her musical talent. Then he noticed the tears.

He knew the song, Can’t You See by The Marshall Tucker Band. The lyrics are about a past relationship and unrequited love. He looked at Leo, who had also appeared nearby and was also staring. Leo’s eyes flicked over to Don’s, and they shared a look of confusion together. Raph had also stepped out of his room, watching Rose sing intently. As the song ended, Mikey finished the guitar riff and she just stood there frozen.

Before any of them could react, Raph scooped her up and took off, headed out of the lair towards the main entrance. Leo and Mikey called after him, but knowing Raph, once his mind was made up there was no stopping him. Don just shrugged and checked his phone, knowing April would be getting to the lair fairly soon. If those two wanted alone time to make eyes at each other, fine. Leave him out of it.

Leonardo did not feel the same way, however.

“What the hell does he think he’s doing, huh?”

Mikey spoke up as he picked up the living room of the mess of controllers and game consoles. “I don’t know, man. But it’s probably for the best. She seemed really sad.”

“Y-I mean..yeah I guess, but..whatever. He knows better than to break rank like that.”

Donnie cocked his head at his older brother, eyeing him curiously.

“I mean, did Raph actually-”

“Enough, Donnie. He disobeyed a direct order.” Leo spat, hackles up.

Donnie put his hands up in resignation, he didn’t care enough to argue. Mikey smirked to himself, clearly agreeing with Don but not wanting to incur Leo’s wrath at the moment either. Leo glared at the both of his brothers and huffed off to the dojo, giving up on the argument. As the doors slid shut, Mikey breathed a sigh of relief.

“Heh, that was intense dude.”

“Yeah, Mikey.”

Donnie felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out of his pocket, seeing a text from April that she was on her way. He grinned at the screen.

“Hey, Don?”

“What’s up, bud?”

“Do you think that she likes Raph?”

Donnie looked back up at his younger brother, eyebrow ridge raised.

“I mean, maybe man. But it’s too early to say that, I think. Why?”

Mikey looked down and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Whatever it was, it was weighing heavily on his heart.

“I mean…I dunno. You have April, and I was kinda hoping, I guess..that she might..”

Realization dawned on the tallest terrapin.

“Shit, Mikey. I wouldn’t get involved in that man. It’ll happen for you, just give it time. But with someone else.”

“Whaddya mean, dude?”

“There’s… stuff… there with Raph and Leo. I would steer clear, man. You’ll find someone that fits perfectly with you someday, don’t worry about it too much.”

“Kay, thanks Dee.”

Mikey gave Donnie a grin, and whipped around suddenly when he smelled a certain someone’s perfume nearing the lair entrance.

“BABYCAKES!”

Don rolled his eyes, hating his younger brother’s nickname for his girlfriend.

April walked into the lair, black hair shining in the neon lights and swaying with each step as she strutted over to her turtle boyfriend. They had been officially dating for about a year now, after years of torturous flirting. The others had considered April to be like a sister, but she had relentlessly pursued Donnie until he admitted that he felt the same. He had always found her incredibly beautiful; her alluring eyes, her smile, and her amazing body were just some of his favorite distractions from his work. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with his feelings, and he had enjoyed making up for lost time with her recently.

Her green eyes sparkled as she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him, her plush, rosy lips pressing into his for a quick, chaste peck. Don couldn't help but grin, caught off guard but comforted by her open affection. As she pulled back, her smile widened, and she playfully called over to Mikey.

"Hey, you," April said with a teasing tone. "What trouble have you gotten into today?"

“Oh nothing, the usual. Oh! There’s another girl here now!”

She slinked an arm around Don’s waist, and turned to face Mike.

“So I heard. Where is this mystery woman?”

“You just missed her. Raph took her…on a field trip.” Donnie answered, chuckling to himself. Lord knows what those two were up to.

April raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "A field trip? Raph doesn't exactly strike me as the tour guide type," she remarked with a smirk. Donnie shrugged, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Oh well,” she quipped, “We’ll catch you later, Mike.” April called over her shoulder, grabbing Donnie’s hand as she pulled him to his lab. The two disappeared behind the doors just as quickly as she had arrived.

“Aw man, that’s no fair you guys.” The youngest kicked the foot of the couch despondently, and went back to his task of cleaning up the living room.

============================

A few hours (and several hickies) later, Donnie took April home to her apartment. He had filled her in on the entirety of the Rose situation, and had promised to let her know when a better time would be for her to meet the new girl. Especially since April was now convinced of the Twilight-esque love triangle they would all be witnessing shortly. Donnie had his doubts, Leo didn’t usually get involved further than a few dates with women, typically citing that there was “no connection” and letting them down gently. And Raph was definitely going to fumble it with this girl. The guy was clueless.

Getting back to the lair, Don noticed that Raph’s door was still wide open. They were still out? She needed her pain medication! Irritated, Donnie scrawled a quick note and taped it to Raph’s bedroom door. Huffing and muttering to himself under his breath, he grabbed another cup of coffee and headed back to work in the lab.

At some point, Donnie had fallen asleep on his keyboard. He jolted awake, a line of drool trailing from his mouth to the keys. Blinking groggily, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand and glanced at the screen, trying to make sense of the gibberish his nap had caused him to type. Despite the repeated jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj’s, it looked like he had gotten a good portion of work done overnight, and was fairly close to being finished. It was lucky that he had worked so much on the formula before Rose had fallen into their lives. He stretched and yawned, and grabbed his empty cup to head to the kitchen for a refill.

“Mornin, bro!” Mikey called to him, munching on his toast from the kitchen island.

“Hey, Mike,” Donnie grumbled, fumbling with the coffee pot. He looked over to Raph’s door and noticed it was shut, but there was no sign of his brother on the couch. “Where’s Raph?”

Mikey looked around and shrugged. “Dunno, Leo texted me asking about him too. Why, whatcha need?”

“Uh, nothing. Can you do me a favor and let Rose know I need to see her? The serum is about finished and I just want to touch base with her about it.”

“Sure, Dee! Just a sec.” Mikey finished his toast and hopped off his stool, trodding over to Raph's room.

“Mikey, I didn’t mean right now-” Donnie began, but Mike wiggled his eyebrow ridge at his brother as he swung open the door.

“Hey Rose, I hope you’re decent!”

Donnie slapped a hand to his face in exasperation, groaning. "Mikey, seriously?" He heard a muffled laugh from inside Raph's room, and his younger brother came back out with a look of surprise on his face. He practically flew over the couch to Donnie.

“Dude. I found Raph.”

Donnie’s eyebrow ridge raised as he looked skeptically at Mikey. “…No.”

“Yes.”

“Were they…?”

“I don’t think so? But like, they were thiiiis close from kissing!” Mikey held his fingers a few centimeters apart to demonstrate.

Donnie groaned and rubbed his temples. “Great. Now I owe April twenty bucks.”

Mikey grinned. “Come on, Dee, it’s kinda cute.”

Donnie sighed. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere with what I need to do. Rose’s well-being and the serum come first.”

Both of the turtles turned abruptly when their brother’s door opened once more, and Raph stepped out into the kitchen. He shot Mikey a glare as he passed on his way to Splinter’s private dojo upstairs.

“Sleep well, Romeo?” Mikey teased.

“Shut it.” Raph hissed back, pointing a thick green finger at his younger brother.

Mikey grinned wider, undeterred. “Hey, just making sure you’re getting enough rest, it’s really important.”

Raph rolled his eyes, but said nothing else as he walked up the stairs. Donnie noticed movement above in the alcove, and glanced up in time to briefly see Leo pass by the open dojo door. So he had planned some sort of punishment for Raph, after all. Good grief.

Rose finally came out of the bedroom, and after a quick shower, she came and sat with Donnie on the couch. They discussed the serum and possible side effects, but she seemed unfazed. He thought it was a little strange that she didn’t seem to question him at all, just agreed to what he said and had an easygoing attitude about it all. Most people would have more questions, or at least have some issues with having an untested substance shot into their veins. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost guess that she had some sort of death wish, or that she just didn’t care about her life. She was an interesting human, at the very least.

Rose put a hand on Donatello’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze. She was clearly a very physical person. Noted. He watched as she glanced up to Master Splinter’s room, and saw the slight wince in her shoulders.

“Can I ask you something, Donnie?”

He knew what was coming. She was freaking out, thinking that Raph was in trouble with their Dad because of something she did. He explained to her that Raph and Leo were working out their differences in Sensei’s private dojo, but he neglected to mention that she may or may not be the root cause of it.

“Thanks, Don. You’re the best.”

She leaned in to hug him, but he caught a whiff of her and almost gagged.

“So, I don’t know how to put this nicely but, you stink.”

“Thanks, Don. Real nice.” She laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. My clothes are super dirty." She agreed. “Is anyone around to help me to my apartment for a change of clothes and some other stuff? I know you’re busy and,” she gestured upstairs with her head. “Those two are occupied at the moment.”

“Yeah, Mike is around. He’s probably in the skate room.”

Donnie walked her over to where the sound of wheels rolling and rap music poured out into the hall, and trudged back to his lab. Cracking his knuckles, he cranked up his tunes and got back to work. He would finish this fucking serum if it killed him.

=========

Mikey had sent the group chat a message that he and Rose were headed back as Donnie had just finalized the last of his virtual trials. It still ran at an 80% success rate, but there was no more time to fuss with it. He grabbed his mug and left the lab for the kitchen; he was surprised that there wasn’t a tread on the floor between the two places by now.

Leo was sitting at the dining table drinking his tea when Don plodded over. His older brother looked up and half smiled at him, brow furrowed and clearly mulling something over.

Don nodded back. “What’s up, Leo?”

“Nothing. Are you prepped for her when they get back?”

The younger brother rolled his eyes. Leo wouldn’t talk about his feelings even if he was held at knife point.

“Yeah, Leo. All good.”

“Hey, Brainiac. You sure this is a good idea?”

Raph’s voice cut through the silence like steel, drawing Donnie’s attention. He turned to see his older brother leaning against the island, arms crossed over his chest, a skeptical look on his face.

“Yes, Raph,” Donnie replied with a sigh. “I’ve double-checked everything. The serum is ready, and I’ve accounted for possible variables.”

Raph’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Just make sure ya know what you’re doing.”

Donnie softened, understanding Raph’s concern. “Trust me, I’m doing everything I can to help her. I know she’s getting worse.”

Raph nodded, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Aight. Let’s get it done then.”

Leo stood up and faced Don at the counter, and placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We’re all here to support you, Donnie. We’ll get through this as a team.” Don did not miss the irritated look Leo shot to Raph over his shoulder as he said the word team.

When Rose and Mikey got back, Donnie felt his nerves shoot through the roof. He was so excited. He could hear Leo checking in with her, like they discussed, but he wasn’t really listening to what was going on. All he could hear was his own heartbeat in his veins.

He snapped out of it when Leo nudged him.

“Are you ready, Rose?” Donnie asked. “ I’m prepared to begin the injections whenever you are.”

Her eyes nervously flicked from Donnie to Leo.

“Rose, you can still back out of this if you’re feeling apprehensive.” Leo began, “No one would blame you. And besides, we really have no guarantee of what this will do for you. It could help your injuries, but it could also make it much worse.”

“Bring it on, Don-tron,” she said looking back at Donnie with a determined glint in her eyes.

Donnie smiled at her, but inside he was screaming. As he stood up to bring his supplies over, he had to remind himself to breathe so he would keep his hands steady. Meanwhile, he tried to ignore the awkward flirting going on behind him.

“We would love to hear an actual performance sometime though, not just a video game level.”

Gag. Barf. Leo, what the hell man, he thought.

And she was flirting back! April would be loving this right now.

“Normally I charge by the hour, but I think I can make an exception just this once.”

Donnie’s skin was crawling. He hurried up bringing his stuff over, interjecting to try and relieve some of the weird tension in the room. Mostly because he felt bad for Raph, who was scowling at the end of the table.

“Let me know if you want any sound equipment for this performance, I’m sure I can configure some sort of mic/amp set up.”

“Thanks Donnie, that would be great actually.”

The blue syringe of liquid glittered in the lair lighting, and Rose couldn’t take her eyes off of it. She started to panic.

“Ah, Donnie- wait.”

After a few moments of fear, she asked Mikey to hold her hand and gave Donnie the go-ahead. It was amazing watching something he created being used to help someone, but that feeling faded when she almost collapsed trying to leave the table moments later. Luckily Raph was there to catch her, and he brought her back to his room. Leo looked on as she was carried off, his face dark. It felt like Donnie was on the set of one of Splinter's soap operas, and he wanted to be written off the show. Please.

Donatello set up an IV drip and monitors, keeping an eye on her vitals. Raph had volunteered to keep watch in the room, but Don and Leo were constantly there as well. She seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, but her vitals grew stable after an hour or so. Her breathing was still ragged, and her skin looked grey…but she didn’t appear to be dying. Donnie was desperately trying to figure out what happened, but his notes, his tests, nothing explained it. It was maddening.

The guilt was maddening.

=====================

Donnie had fallen asleep on the couch, not wanting to be too far away from his patient, when woke up to Raph and Mikey chatting in the kitchen. He listened to their conversation as Mikey got Raph to open up, almost jealous at how easy the youngest could get others to talk like that.

“Why were you in there with her though, did you spend the night?”

“Kinda.”

Donnie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He would definitely be sharing this with April. He tried to keep his breathing as steady as possible as they kept talking. Raph finally went back to the room, and Donnie shot his head up over the couch.

“MIKEY!” he whispered loudly.

Michelangelo jumped, and spun to blink at Don.

“Jeez, Dee! You scared the shell outta me,” Mikey whispered back, clutching the strap crossing his plastron.

“What did he mean by ‘kinda’?” Donnie demanded, his voice urgent but hushed.

Mikey shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I think he stayed with her to make sure she was okay. Our big bro has a soft side, man.”

Donnie shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. Raph.”

Mikey chuckled softly. “Told ya, Dee. Just wait till April hears about this.”

Donnie smirked, already imagining April’s reaction. “Oh, she’s going to love it.”

Mikey had turned to leave for his bedroom when the yelling started seconds later. Both gave each other a worried look, and glanced at Raph’s door. Leo appeared out of nowhere, face flushed with concern.

Donnie was the first to speak.

“Well, at least we know that she’s feeling well enough to fight,” He said with a chuckle. Leonardo was more concerned, however. He shot Donnie a look of annoyance.

“I’m going in there. He’s going to do something stupid and hurt her.”

“Hold up, Leo,” Mikey interjected. “Raph likes her, there’s no way he’d do anything to her.”

Leo's face fell, and neither of his brothers missed the sadness in his voice.

“I suppose you’re right, Mikey. But if anything happens-”

Rose threw open the door continuing their yelling match, and stomped out the main entrance. Raph headed in the opposite direction to the weight room.

Donnie, Leo and Mikey stood in the living room, mouths agape.

“Did that just happen?” Mikey asked, breaking the stunned silence.

“Looks like it,” Donnie replied, still processing the scene.

Leo sighed, shaking his head. “We need to handle this carefully."

Mikey nodded. “Yeah, but maybe give them a minute to cool off first. Plus, I’m tired, man. I gotta go to bed.” He patted Leo on the shell and vaulted over the couch to his room.

Leo snorted at Mikey’s attitude, and gave Donnie a look. He nodded back, and headed over to the computer station. At least he had gotten a few hours of sleep.

Raph came running out of the gym twenty minutes later.

“Leo, she’s probably lost in the sewers-”

“We know, Raph. Donnie’s working on tracking her through our surveillance system. But before I give you that information, I’d like to remind you that this is your mess - and I don’t intend to clean it up for you.”

Donnie rolled his eyes again for the umpteenth time that day. Leo was preaching from his high horse again. Ugh, this was going to be another friggin monologue. Donnie focused on his screen, searching the 3-D models of the tunnels and infra-red scanners for body-temperatures. After their first home was destroyed, the move to the new lair had been tedious. Donnie was still re-installing his security systems, despite it having been several years. His alarms worked, but it was hard to track all the old data and integrate it with the new systems. It was a never-ending task that required constant updates and adjustments.

The other turtles tried to help where they could, but Donnie’s expertise was in a league of its own. Even now, he tinkered with a cluster of wires and circuits, muttering to himself about the intricacies of the setup. Donnie glanced up at the showdown going down between Raph and Leo; it reminded him of a Western. Don snorted and looked back at the screen. Not my circus, he thought.

“ You know exactly what I mean.”

“YOU BETTER WIPE THAT SMUG GR-”

Raph’s voice reached intense levels as Donnie’s system finally pinged a human’s body temperature location nearby.

“Got her!”

Leo signaled to move out, and they strapped their gear on and took off. Don couldn’t help but feel the silence between Raph and Leo, a tension that seemed to weigh down the air around them. Raph’s jaw was set, and Leo’s eyes were focused straight ahead, both clearly preoccupied with their own thoughts.

As they made their way through the darkened sewers, Don couldn’t take it anymore. “Everything okay, Leo?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

Leo glanced back briefly, his expression unreadable. “Just stay focused, Donnie. We need to be ready for anything.”

Raph snorted quietly, but didn’t say anything.

When they found Rose, it was much worse than what any of them had thought. Donnie and Leo hadn’t been sure of what to think, with all the blood and mangled bodies strewn around. Raph had responded to it surprisingly; he just walked right up to her and scooped her up in his arms, letting her sob violently as he took her back to the lair. Donnie was flabbergasted.

After cleaning up the scene and moving the bodies, Leo had decided they needed to continue exploring the outer tunnels to Donnie’s chagrin. He was so tired.

As they rounded another corner, Leo raised a hand and signaled that there were hostiles up ahead. Don checked his scanner, confirming four humans nearby. Leo moved swiftly, striking before the soldiers could react. He had always appreciated his brother's ninja skills; Leonardo took pride in his work as a hero and protector of New York. And, it meant less work for him.

Don knocked out a straggler with his Bo staff, and then he and Leo moved the unconscious men up top for the police. Of course, Don was more concerned as to why these men were down here in the first place. They hadn’t heard or seen from the foot in years, since the incident with Krang, and as far as they knew Karai had been in Tokyo. Was she back?

Leo must’ve been thinking the same thing.

“Donnie, see if you can find any flight information in the past few months on Karai. And get in touch with Chief Vincent about recent foot activity. I don’t think this was a coincidence.”

“Got it, Leo.”

Donnie called Chief Vincent when he got back to the lair, but unfortunately, she didn’t have any answers for them. She did promise to call if they heard about any new foot activity, though.

As Donnie finished his call, Mikey poked his head into the lab.

“Yo dude, you hearin this?”

“No, Mike. I’ve been on the phone. What’s up?”

“Leo and Raph are going at it, dude. We should grab a seat for the show.” Mikey laughed at his own joke, hitching a thumb behind him.

Donnie snorted, and jutted his chin at the spare stool next to his desk. His little brother sat down, legs swinging with excitement.

“I’ll pull up the monitors.”

They both watched the fight go down, Mikey bouncing out of his seat when Leo swept Raph to the ground. Don’s stomach suddenly rumbled, and he remembered he hadn’t eaten. Mikey pulled a bag of something from his pocket and offered it to his brother.

“Pork rind?”

Donnie laughed, and took an offered rind from the bag. Mike loved these things.

As he munched, he nearly missed Raph flying through the air on the computer screen. Neither of them could mistake the thud against the wall however, the shake sending crumbles of concrete chunks and dust raining down on his equipment. The two shared a surprised glance at each other before sprinting out of the lab.

Raph had put a huge dent in the wall, and was brushing off the concrete from his shoulder as he got up from the ground. Don’s jaw was on the floor as he took in the damage to the wall.

He looked over at Leo, and saw Rose shaking with fear. Did she do this?

So, she was the cause of the damage in the sewer tunnels earlier. Something in the serum had mutated her, then. And then it hit Donnie.

It was his fault.

He grumpily picked up his papers from the floor from where he had scattered them, not really caring about the mess but knowing that April would worry if she saw the lab like this. He wouldn’t give up, he thought.

I can fix this.

[neptoons1998]

You & I

A/N: Thank you guys for liking this ship so much! Cause low-key it's not getting any love on Ao3. I might make one more than I'll be done with this fandom unless you guys want more. (If y'all do just let me know.)

Tag gang: @pantherheart @mal-urameshi @mistylavender @elleaitch22 @bi-hop

Summary: Tiana is quiet, causing her boyfriend to be concerned.

Nights like these were Miles’ favorite. He loved watching the skyline with Starling.  It was the only time both parents could pretend to be normal teens that snuck out, like the city wasn’t a shit hole. Normally, the pair would talk until the darkness becomes light again. Not tonight though Tiana was quiet. She was never  quiet; she was the one who kept the conversation going. Most times Miles wouldn’t say anything letting his girlfriend rant whatever came into her mind. Seeing her being quiet made Miles curious about what was going on in his girlfriend's mind. 

“Tiana, what’s going on with you?” Miles asked. Tiana blinked owlishly at her boyfriend, she sometimes forgot how blunt he could be when he wanted to know something. It could be enduring at times and others annoying. She felt his rough hands on hers. As if he’s afraid that she would take flight. Tiana would be lying to say that he was wrong, she always likes that when they talk about each other’s trauma. When they get too close on why they are the way they are. She was always shrinking back from the ledge like she doesn’t have wings. She’ll then switch topics and talk about a new comic she picked up for him, cracking jokes on how much of a nerd he is. Miles knowingly would start complaining how she was mixing up the characters from their different brands again. How was I supposed to know? They all look alike, Tiana reasoned. Miles would roll his eyes like she was the most irritating thing on earth.  

“Mami,” Miles said, making the mutant come back from the deepest part of her mind. Tiana shifted her wings; she desperately wanted to fly away, not wanting Miles to get into the mess. She needs to end it not just for her sake, but to finally put this to rest. 

“I found him,” Tiana whispered in the night, “Tombstone.”

Miles tightens his hold around Tiana’s. Miles’ eyes kept looking at Tiana’s red wings, he recalled on some nights he would help preserve her wings. Tiana’s back would go lax letting Miles have full rain cleaning her wings. He knew what that meant to her, she would finally get justice to the man not only responsible for her mutation wings, but the murder who killed her beloved grandfather and mother. 

“You can’t talk me out of it,” Tiana said, placing her visor on. She needs to get this man who caused her to look like this! The reason why her only life line was Miles, not her mother and grandfather anymore. Tiana knew Miles would understand, if the roles were reversed he would catch the person who killed his father. 

Miles huffed, “Who said I was going to do that?”

That question stopped Tiana’s thoughts from spiraling. The pair fell into silence only the sirens of cop cars from the distance. Miles knew he shouldn’t get involved. It was outside his turf. He knew if he helped there would be a target on the Prowler’s back and thus his turf. If someone harms anyone in his turf then he would get it in blood.

Tiana was his.

And he protects what’s his. 

“I’m coming with you,” Miles said.Tiana’s wings stretched out from her back in surprise, “What? No, I won't let you do that, Miles.”

“You think you can handle killing tombstone’s men and then the man himself?”Miles questioned her. Miles has only seen the man pasting Tombstone as a large man. He could crush Tiana’s wings if given the chance. A chance that Miles won’t let that happen, “Tiana, I’m coming with you.”

“But you would have a target on your back,” Tiana reasoned, hoping Miles would listen to it, “You have enough to worry about.”

Miles couldn’t deny that Tiana was right. He did have other things to worry about, mainly the Sinister Six cartel looking at Brooklyn a little too hard for his liking. Miles knows he needs to focus on them, attack first before the Six had any time to strike back. I can focus on two things at once Miles told himself. And right now he wanted to focus on Tiana and her revenge on the man who made her look like this. 

“Then let me add one more,” Miles replied. Tiana could only look at him,he’s so stubborn. 

 Tiana smirked as she leaned closer to her boyfriend, “Be glad you’re so cute, cause you being stubborn is mad irritating.”

Miles couldn’t help but smirked back at her, “You know you wouldn’t have it any other way Mami.”

[heymickie]

𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: teenage mutant ninja turtles 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: tmnt (ft. april & casey) 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 1447 🐭: so originally i posted this on my birthday (march 6th), but i ended up editing it. loosely based on an idea i had on my old account @littlefanscribbles-blog. 𝘁𝘄: mention of death 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲-𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁/𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗱 ʚ🍓ɞ 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗡𝗘: 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗙𝗙𝗡 ʚ🍓ɞ 𝗔𝗢𝟯

“Just go in, cause hell, and get out,” a man with long dark hair said, looking at the map of the large building that seemed to ever be looming over the city. Covering the city in a dark shadow that only he and his friends seem to notice. He cracked his knuckles, looking over at his redheaded wife before looking back at the large computer with the map of the lab laid out. He watched as four dots blinked to indicate their friends’ location.

“That’s the plan, moron,” a gruff voice sounded. Casey didn’t need to even look at the computer to know that was the voice of the red-cladded terrapin.

“Yeah, but with you four it’s never quite that easy,” Casey responded before his wife nudged him, handing over the one-year-old that was in her hands.

“Too much chatter over the air wave,” the blue leader responded, April watched as the orange and purple dot went into a room. The blue and red dot stood in the hallway. April was the one that got intel about Stockman using the turtles’ DNA, she did trust the source, but she couldn’t trust that Stockman or the Shredder wasn’t ready for the turtles. She wished she could be more help, but it was hard with a bump and a child in toll.

“Okay, the fire wall shouldn’t be too hard to bypass,” Donnie informed, sitting down at the large computer to erase any mention of their DNA while Michelangelo occupied himself in the lab. “Don’t touch anything,” Donatello warned, cracking his knuckles before Mikey heard the clicking-clacking of the keyboard. Mikey looked around the stark white room, for once, he was ignoring the liquid of what would most definitely kill him. The orange turtle came to a stop when he saw four tubes. Under each tube was the name of each turtle and a number.

“Uh, Don,” Mikey called, rubbing at the fogged up glass of one of the tubes to see a human-sized baby turtle floating in some weird green goo. It wasn’t like the ooze that made them who they are, it was different. “I think I found what we’re looking for!”

“We’re in!” Donatello cheered quietly, not hearing his little brother. He opened up the needed files, blinking. “Wait,” Donnie frowned, his eyes scanning the data, he almost didn’t hear Mikey walk up to him.

“You guys need to see this,” Mikey repeated, trying to nudge Donnie away from the computer. Donnie tried to shoo him off, his eyes not leaving the reports he found. He couldn’t risk misunderstanding any of this.

“See what?” A pair of voices said, one being their favorite redheaded human and the other being the oldest brother. Mikey groaned, yanking the lab chair and turned it around to force his brother to look at the four tubes. Donnie got up, wiping at the remaining three tubes to see that each tube contained a small turtle babe. “What’s going on?” Leo questioned, his voice almost lowering an octave.

“You guys might want to come in here,” Donnie pulled out his turtle phone and scanned the tubes, sending the image and the data back to his computer at home. He could hear April gasp over the com. She wasn’t quite expecting children to be involved when her source told her about the stolen DNA. April was sure this was the exact reason her source had told her.

“Is that what I think it is?” April asked, “they made children?” She stared at the image sent to her. Leonardo walked their way, stopping beside his younger brothers. Raphael stayed near the door to keep a close watch, not exactly trusting himself around children.

“Yeah,” Donnie responded, “these four are the last of what they had of our DNA.” He stepped back, rushing back to the computer. “What started off as a cloning experiment turned into direct reproduction,” he looked over at his brothers and saw a few confused faces turn his way. “They are half ours,” he explained simply, “think of it like Superman and the first Superboy,” only Mikey seemed to understand that reference.

Leonard walked forward, stopping in front of the tube. Leonardo - #12. Twelve child experiments. His gut clenched. This was wrong. Knowing the Foot and Stockman, he didn’t have to guess what happened to the other eleven experiments, if they were still around. “These aren’t the only ones,” Leo added quietly, his throat felt like it was closing at the mere thought.

“There’s the number nineteen by my name,” Mikey said, stepping behind Leo. His voice sounded like he was in pain. Raph never left the door, trying to wrap his head around it all. “That’s so many kids,” Mikey almost squeaked, turning to face Donnie. Donatello sighed, placing his USB drive into the computer to copy the data. “Where are they, Don? Does it say?” Mikey’s voice almost sounded like he was begging, the face Donnie made was telling him the exact opposite of what the youngest turtle wanted to hear.

“All the previous experiments either died or were killed,” Donnie closed his eyes for a moment, not wanting to look at his baby brother when given the news. The number on the plaque doesn’t even include the five clones they tried to make. Each and every experiment started off as eggs, and after they were hatched they were all forced to age up, if Shredder or Stockman didn’t find something defective with them. The aging process killed the ones that Shredder and Stockman found suitable. “They are going to force these four to age up, and it’s going to kill them,” he finally opened his eyes, glancing at the data he had just read.

“Let them die,” Raph called out, glancing out of the hallway. “Do you see anyone coming, April?” This was meant to be an easy mission. Fuck Casey for jinxing this. 

“I’m still here,” April looked at the computer screen, wiping away tears that surfaced. “Five, third floor but coming up,” she cleared her throat as she held her stomach before glancing at the sleeping ginger in her husband’s arm. April knew she was being emotional, but she couldn’t help but feel sad for all those lost hatchlings.

“Let's clear this shit, destroy the work, and get the fuck out of here!” Raph called to Leo.

“We can’t just let them die!” Mikey yelled, “You heard Donnie! They are basically our kids!”

“I don’t remember fucking another turtle! Do you?” Raphael growled out, rolling his eyes when Mikey turned to Leo.

“Leo, if we keep them here they will either die,” Donnie stated clearly, taking out his USB and sending his virus to shut down the computer for good. “The stress on their bodies from the aging machines will kill them, and that is if Stockman or Shredder doesn’t find something wrong with them first.” He stepped forward to the tube with his name, “This is just stasis ooze, we can get them out and move them safely.”  Raphael rolled his eyes, closing the door when April warned them they only have a couple more floors before the goons find them. 

“We don’t have time for this!”

“Raph!” Leo called out, trying to quiet his brother so he could think about this. He looked at his brothers, his wide blue eyes taking in the faces of each brother. Mikey was pleading. Donnie looked like he was trying to let Leo decide, but he didn’t look away from his pod. Raphael looked… Scared. “Mikey, find something to put the babies in! Donnie, shut down stasis!” Before Raph could protest, Leo sent his brother a glare. He knew very well that if they let these four die, that it would eat at each one of them. Even if Raphael was hiding behind his facade. It would be different if they were still eggs, but they’re not. They’re here. Alive. “Just watch the door,” Leo commanded, grabbing the baby in his tube once Donnie shut down the stasis. Mikey ran to Leo with four cloth lab coats to wrap the babies in.

“We can’t fight with kids on our back,” Raph reminded, pulling out his sais as the footsteps got closer.

“No,” Leo pulled out his swords, “but we can.” He let Mikey and Donnie handle the babies.

“I can lead you to the exit,” a relieved voice said over the radio, the boys almost forgot April was still in their ear. Casey stood beside her, rubbing her back with his free hand as he held their son.

“You’re a doll!” Mikey replied, holding the box while Donnie put in the last child. “We got them, let's go!”