#come to terms with mikey healing and being his own person and why they feel like they can’t do the same

[cryptidwizard]

i feel the turtle fixation creeping back up

[tmntxthings]

I was wondering if I could request a part two for the lost and found fic you did like the reader trying to adjust to their new life style (if you want to feel free to ignore.)

Lost & Found pt. 2

author’s note: I’d be happy to make a pt. 2 (potentially title Found & Healing) idk why but I’m in the mood for angst so here we gooooo, thanks for requesting :3

warnings: cursing, trauma, angst, abuse, violence, comfort ending

> part one <

—————————————————————————

previously. . .

“Family?” You echoed. Draxum had never used familial terms between the two of you. He was your creator and you were his creation. Black and white, plain and simple. You always believed you were on your own. The thought of a family, it was too good to be true. “Yeah!” Mikey cried, the instant he saw the tear go down your cheek. And space bubbles be damned! He leapt on top of you hugging you close, “you’re our family!” Mikey said and the rest of the gang piled in, more tears were shed, even from Donnie. It was a miracle you thought, and maybe finally you could be happy, here with your family.

A couple of days had passed. The turtles, your brothers, visited you often in the room that they designated as your own. They said they had plenty of rooms to spare. What you were not expecting was to be visited by the one they called their father, the one who was also supposedly your father.

“How are you feeling?” The rat asked softly, he was in the middle of the entryway. Not taking any steps closer into your space. You blinked, your gaze was heavy on the person who hadn’t rescued you. “I’m okay.” It was the truth, you were healing, though your shell still felt battered. You were lucky the turtles had stopped Draxum when they did. Your shell probably couldn’t handle another crack and you shuddered to think of the what ifs.

Splinter nodded, regret and guilt weighing on him. “You are welcome to stay, for as long as you would like, like my sons said, you are family. Though I understand if you resent me.” Splinter met your eyes, and you nodded in acknowledgement. He turned swiftly, leaving you to think and to heal. You didn’t per say resent the rat, you just, hated life in general. It seemed like you hadn’t been given a fair lot compared to your newfound siblings. They didn’t have cracked shells. Though the red one did have a few chips.

[two weeks later]

“Why are you being punished?” You were back at Draxum’s lab, spread eagle, being held together by his vines. They cut into your skin, the blood vessels bruising and popping around your wrists and ankles. “ANSWER ME!” His voice roared, deafening if your ears as the vines around your torso tightened excruciatingly tighter. Your shell threatening to break under the pressure. Your head flinching up, your face twisted in pain, “I f-failed you!” you screamed unable to hold back your cries of agony. Crack! A hairline fracture. Crack! Bigger, widening to form a gap. CRACK!

“Y/n!” Raph shook your shoulders, waking you. You heaved in and out breathing as your hands went back to touch your shell, your whole body trembling. “My shell, it’s- Draxum- my shell!” You wailed, looking around the room. Looking at Raph in devastation. “Y/n, Draxum isn’t here, he hasn’t touched you, your shell is okay,” Raph tried to reassure you. But you shook your head, wetting your lips. He didn’t understand. “I’m broken Red.” Even if Draxum wasn’t here. He was always with you. In your head, plaguing your thoughts, your dreams. “You’re healing, this will pass Y/n you just need time and rest,” You didn’t understand how he could be so sure. You knew he had never been in your shoes. How did he know? But his eyes held true, they promised you of better days.

“Thank you for waking me,” you murmured, coming back down from the adrenaline of your nightmare. You’d be embarrassed in the morning no doubt. “That’s what familys for, plus I’m right next door, I couldn’t just let you go on screaming forever,” Raph tried to joke but you looked down in your lap, not finding it funny. “Rightt,” Raph sighed, regretting his word choices, “I keep forgetting you’re pretty serious..” You sighed again, “I appreciate your attempts at humor of my past trauma.”

“Well.. when you put it like that,” Raph felt absolutely horrible now but he was saved when he saw your slight smile. “Was that a dark joke?” He asked hesitantly and you shrugged, guessing so. “If it makes you feel better,” your smile grew and Raph exhaled in relief, “Well I stand corrected you do have a sense of humor!” He smiled back and stood up from the spot where he sat on your bed. “Goodnight and just let me know if you need anything, again right next door,” he pointed to the wall that divided where his room would be. “Goodnight Red,”

…

“It was pretty bad.. they could hardly tell where they were when they woke up!”

“Hmm well I still think that is normal, they were with Draxum for 13 years Raph, two weeks and a couple of days won’t change that,”

“I know I just wish I could help, I feel so horrible when all I can do is offer encouraging words, and some nights I can just tell they don’t believe me, they think they’re always going to be this way!”

“Time is the only remedy, some days will be harder than others. I don’t know what else to tell you brother..”

Donnie sighed as he pushed his goggles up. “Alright, I’ll try something.. I’ve been working on the finishing touches anyway. Should be ready..” Donnie muttered the last bits more to himself but Raph looked way more hopeful now that Donnie had said he would try to help. Try being the keyword here. Honestly the purple turtle hadn’t visited you that often. If he had to rank his brothers in order of closeness to you. He would put himself in last place. Raph and Mikey going for first while Leo was definitely a hard third place though he did try offering you comic books and other things he was interested in.

Donnie didn’t really know how to feel. On one hand he thought it was great to have another sibling, though you were unlike any of his brothers. You were the epitome of serious, you took things quite literally which made for awkward moments. Donnie did not thrive in awkwardness. Then there was the whole unknown part about you. He didn’t like how you had been here for almost a month now and he hardly knew anything other than the basics about you. Especially your power, his brain was itching to ask you more questions about that. But you weren’t really a talker either, so on top of serious, you were reserved. Donnie only knew you had nightmares because Raph would come to him, knowing Donnie would be up, working in his lab.

“Thanks Dee, I’m sure whatever science-y thing you’ll try, it’ll be better than me repeating myself for the eighteenth time!” Raph said with a crooked smile. “Don’t hold me to that,” Donnie noted, shooing off his older brother. He could tell Raph was tired. “Go to bed, I’ll talk to Y/n in the morning,” “Roger that!” Raph said heading out of the lab and to his room.

That morning, you were surprised to see Purple, standing outside of your room, clearing his throat to announce his entrance. You watched as he entered, coming to your bedside. You pushed on your elbows, sitting up in bed. “Just wanted to offer a welcoming gift,” Donnie elaborated as he hid his hands behind his shell. “A welcoming gift?” You repeated in question. “Yes, a common gesture,” the purple banded turtle said and then shook his head. Bringing his hands forth holding up the gift. “What is it?” You asked tilted your head. “A battle shell,”

Donatello went on to show you his own, the purpose for battle shells. That you weren’t the only one with a ‘soft’ shell so to speak. Though for him that was quite literal, your shell hadn’t been soft to begin with, but was now very fragile and susceptible to break which obviously plagued your mind. He showed you how to attach it, taking his own battle shell off and on multiple times. You were very interested and had moved to the edge of the bed, you legs swinging as you held your own battle shell. It was made to your specs, a replica of what your shell had once looked like before the cracks. “Thank you Purple,” you smiled a genuine smile. It took a few tries but once you had it on you felt confident enough to leave bed. To leave your room. You hadn’t ventured around yet, you hardly left your room for those two weeks.

“It’s Donatello but, you’re welcome,” he said watching as you exited your room. He followed after you, knocking on Raph’s as the two of you passed by. “I want to go to the surface! I want to meet this friend, April, that you all talk about! I want to go on patrols with you guys! I want to…” you trailed off turning to face Donnie, noticing Raph had joined as well. Leo and Mikey were already in the living area, looking over at where the three of you stood. “You’re ready for all of that?” Raph asked cautiously, not wanting you to rush the healing process just because you had a battle shell on now. “Yes” you nodded and you watched your brothers look at one another. “Well, how dangerous can one visit to April’s be?” Leo joked and Donnie smirked, “pretty hardcore,” he noted. “I can handle it!” You said securely. “Or shall I remind you how I handled myself on our first meeting?” You raised a nonexistent eyebrow. They all looked at you with a wide range of expressions. “That… was an attempt at humor,” you supplied sheepishly as Raph laughed out loud. “To April’s then!”

[mswyrr]

Random aside, but I’ve been thinking about Carmen Berzatto as a “realistic fiction” version of some of the same themes handled in Peeta Mellark through the vehicle of Sci Fi metaphor.

I always read the hijacking--and how its violence and overtaking of his identity comes after Peeta expressly says all he wants, believing he will die in the Games, is to not become their creature, to not be changed from who he wants to be--as a great metaphor for patterns of abuse and how it gets inside you and can be so hard to uproot and for the way patriarchies beat boys into violent shapes, into being useful tools, and away from the things they love and truly want.

It works for me because it overtakes him but only for a time - in the end, he has the grace and support to embrace the care, love, art, and food that he wants his life to be, even though the hurt leaves marks. I connect that with the idea of how there can be times when, no matter how hard you want to “not be shitty,” it can be easy to lose yourself - but you can find a way back, you can have a good life on your own terms with scars.

I see it as two different approaches to talking about similar things - different genres nonetheless sharing in common the necessity of the moment of losing yourself and then having that come back, through your struggle but not alone, not all by your own power, also through the people around you loving you, for the love you put out into the world coming back to you when you most need it.

Because it’s a dramady and draws on the traditions of comedy--the uplifting side of life, vs the tragic side--and we already start with the tragic loss of one Berzatto son who didn’t find his way through the underworld, I think Carmy is going to come out of the cold, dark place (walk-in fridge or underworld? Both?) in s3. The alternative would be a very.... odd story, I think. Because if they have him keep going down down down and never rising, then the whole thing collapses. The Bear is lost, the people who have become a community scatter. It just doesn’t fit the tone and themes for me. We *start* at a place of everyone being scattered and damaged by Mikey’s loss - it would be nihilistic and repetitive and dramatically uninteresting to do the same thing with the younger brother. And the writing has never displayed that kind of vibe.

But I also think s3 will begin with him continuing his descent before hitting rock bottom and rising. It’ll get worse before it gets better. The descent is fraught with hope, though - because when the person comes back from that they’ve dealt with the things that haunt them. Their wounds have become healed up scars? And they own the person they want to be now, rather than being torn between the influence of others and their own heart’s yearning for better.

Regardless of what setting and genre you’re using, it’s a powerful arc, the descent and the rise and I’m looking forward to it because I believe they’ll pull it off well - they’ve done so beautifully with other characters struggling and rising, why not the lead?

BTW, I will curl up in shipper feels forever if part of his rise from the “underworld” involves Sydney symbolically giving him back to himself--giving him back things he wants to be vs things he’s being drawn into by the pressures on him--like how Katniss gaves things Peeta shared with her back to him: 

At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. "Your favorite color ... it's green?" "That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange." "Orange?" He seems unconvinced. "Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once." "Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you." But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces." Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.  

Who you are, in the end, is who you want to be and the best of yourself you share with others comes back to you. It’s doesn’t just disappear.

[givemethatgold]

Rescued pt. 10

Summary:  After Bucky comes to your aid in a moment of panic you extend an invitation to family dinner. Neither of you could have foreseen how this small act of kindness would alter you, and your life, forever.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Swearing, Alcoholism,  Word Count: 2565

Author’s Note: Guys. This took for fucking ever to write. I’m not sure what happened to me but I hope I’m back and that I’ll be pumping the chapters out faster now. Also, I sincerely apologize if I missed any errors, my keyboard has been adding phantom letters and spaces while I’m typing and I only proof-read this once.

Previously

Your mom and dad had tried to console you, Karen had flat out told you that you were being dumb if you thought that any of this was your fault, and Jordan mumbled something about needing to do background checks. The one person who you could always count of to bring light to a situation and make you laugh was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Before you could ask Mikey how he was doing, your name was being called. Looking toward the door you spotted Bucky, leaning heavily on the doorjamb but looking a lot more alive than the last time you saw him.

“Bucky,” you breathed, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him on his feet, “How are you fee- MIKEY, NO!”

It had been five days since the fight between Michael and Bucky. Five days since Bucky has been avoiding you, feeling like he was the cause of everything that had gone wrong in your life lately. His guilt, along with his healing injuries, saw him hiding in the medical ward and refusing any visitors.

Five days since your closest brother stopped listening, talking, or even looking at you. He felt like Bucky was the cause of everything that had gone wrong too, and since you refused to play the blame game, Michael refused to be near you. Ironically, he was also healing in the medical ward but the only visitor he was refusing was you.

Their fight, if you could call it that, hadn’t lasted long; and while the injuries were mostly superficial the damage went deep. Bucky had refused to do anything more than defend himself against a few harsher punches, resulting in a black eye and a few torn stitches. Michael, on the other hand, had destroyed the bones in three fingers when one of his punches was deflected by a metal hand. Bucky carried more guilt now than he had before, and heaped your torn family dynamic onto the ever growing weight on his shoulders.

Four days since the team had dispersed, each with their own missions, research, and training to do. They weren’t sure what to do with the sudden influx of civilians in the compound and none of them were great with understanding family tension; seeing as how most of them were orphans.

Three days since you had started putting all of your pent up energy into baking. You may not have had anyone around to share the meals with, but you were single-handedly feeding everyone within a five-floor radius. Muffins, cookies, bread, pastries, pies, roasts, pasta; you name it: you make it. It didn’t even cross your mind to question where the ingredients were coming from or who was footing the bill; the process was just too cathartic.

Two days since Tony’s last drink. He had stubbornly refused to admit he had a drinking problem but the night you had found him in the elevator was enough to change his mind. He had been so inebriated that he couldn't even crawl, let alone stand. He had initially yelled at you, slurring profanities in an attempt to get you to leave him alone. In your short time as an emergency nurse, you had seen enough people at his level of intoxication to know that he could not be left alone.

Once you had entered the elevator and the doors automatically closed behind you, the reason for his anger became apparent. He was using it to cover his embarrassment: he had pissed himself. Having spent the last four years in a long-term care facility, you were more than used to changing and cleaning patients, so his current state didn’t phase you.

“Come on big guy, let’s get you to your room,” you said, hoisting him up with an arm around his waist and draping one of his around your shoulders. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Please alert us to anyone’s presence on Mr. Stark’s floor.”

“If I detect anyone about to cross your path, I’ll send them on a little goose chase first, Miss Y/L/N.”

You smiled up at the ceiling in gratitude, knowing that somehow the A.I. cared for Tony and was as concerned as you were about other teammates seeing him like this.

You managed to carry/drag Tony to his room without further incident then stripped him and put him into his massive shower.  After making sure he wouldn’t slump over and water-board himself, you went out into his room and rummaged through his clothes until you found comfortable looking clothes for sleep.

You ran back to the bathroom when you heard muffled yelling and the sight of the broken man in front of you had you crawling into the shower with him.

He was bawling. Body completely limp, not trying to hide his tears at all, cries of anguish tearing up his throat, bawling.

“Pepperrrrrr,” he slurred. “‘M sthorry.”

He thought you were someone else, and you weren’t about to correct him right now. Gently coaxing, you managed to get him up, dry, and into his bed. Just before you left you heard him mumble again, something about Pepper being the only thing he loved that loved him back.

Your heart broke for the man, his dependence on alcohol making a little more sense to you. You made a mental note to find out more about this Pepper, and what had happened between them.

As you stood at one of the kitchen islands, whisking eggs whites for waffles, you were pulled from your thoughts by a voice you weren’t expecting.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor.”

Turning around, you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips.

“Tony! You look terrible!” Cringing at your lack of filter, you sent an apologetic smile.

Nice one, Y/N.

“Apparently detox will do that do a person,” he chuckled “but my head is clearing so I’ll take it.” 

Tony looked like he had more to say, you so casually rested your hip against the counter and waited for him to continue.

“You know,” he said, nervously scratching his beard. 

Beard?! He’s really let himself go...

“I, ahhh, I guess you deserve an apology.”

It was more than you ever expected to get but it wasn’t everything that you deserved so you stayed quiet, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Ha, you’re not going to make this easy on my ego, are you?” Tony looked at you shrewdly then nodded, conceding. “No, you wouldn’t but that’s what I need apparently. So, Y/N, I grovel at your feet for forgiveness. I was willing to put your family at risk for the sake of my pride, I let my past with Bucky cloud my reasoning, and I harshly judged your relationship. Also, my eternal gratitude. Not only for saving me from team-wide scorn and pity, but for being firm in the face of some terrifying superheroes and not letting me get away with my shit.”

Another week had gone by, and while your family and Bucky continued to estrange themselves from you, you found friendship in Tony. While you nursed him into sobriety, he distracted you from your loneliness by telling you the history of all the Avengers. 

You were in the kitchen attempting croissants and Tony was keeping you company, regaling you with stories about Captain America, the Howling Commandos, and his father. There was an underlying current of disdain and hurt in Tony’s voice anytime he talked about Howard. Fearing a relapse, you changed the subject. Being a complete idiot, you brought up the worst person you could.

“Why don’t you ever talk about Pepper?”

At his silence, you turned your head questioningly. The stricken look on his face had you immediately regretting having opened your big mouth.

Goddammit, why are you always doing this to him!?

“Oh, Tony...” you said softly, fully turning around to face him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“The two greatest loves of my life are Pepper Potts and my suit.” He interrupted, looking down at the design in the marble floor. “Not just the suit, but the possibilities with it. They’ve both saved me, given me hope, and showed me my full potential. I’m a better man because of them.” Tony’s words were clipped and heavy but he had made eye contact with you. His intense, brown eyes were boring into you, begging you to understand. 

“I couldn’t choose between the two, I had hoped I wouldn’t have to. Pepper,” he said, with a heavy sigh, “she did it for me, and left.”

Tony had never opened up about himself, and the whole time he had been speaking you held your breath, afraid to do anything that might stop the flow of words. Once you were sure he was finished, you wrapped him up into a hug and just rocked him like you would a child.

Tony pulled out of the hug and cleared his throat, emotional. 

“Have fun baking, we’ve all been enjoying it, but I’ve got something very important I need to go do!”

You may have been worried, watching Tony hurry off after such an emotional moment, but the new spring in his step assured you that he wasn’t escaping to go drown his sorrows. Turning back to your work, you smiled to yourself, as a plan of your own began to take form.

The next big mission was five days away and Tony had, surprisingly, opted to stay home although he had finally been cleared for combat. He claimed he was working on something big and had retreated back into the tower. You were actually ecstatic at the news, figuring this was a perfect opportunity to reveal the surprise you had been working on. 

Your project had kept you distracted and busy for the past week, but now that everything was set in place, you were inundated with loneliness and despair. You had always been close to your family, everyone would converge whenever someone had a celebration or a heartbreak. Now, you were all having the hardest couple weeks of your lives and everyone was ignoring each other. 

You were sick of being alone and ignored, it was time to take charge and do something about your situation. Not knowing where everyone was, you headed to the one place you were guaranteed to find someone you cared about. Once you reached the gym, you quietly asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to lock all the exits to the room, until you specifically asked her to.

“Of course. Good luck, Y/N.”

Not for the first time you marveled at the amount of personality and understanding the A.I. seemed to have. Taking a deep breath, you quietly slipped into the gym and heard the door lock engage behind you. Scanning the area, you spotted Bucky near the boxing ring. He had been outfitted with a new arm, compliments of Tony, and was testing out the dexterity and fluidity of movement on the speed bag.

You knew when he heard you walk towards him because the rhythm of his punches stuttered and the bag began to spin wildly. Sighing in defeat, Bucky stepped back and began to quickly unwrap his hands, refusing to look at you. 

“Buck,” you called softly, “talk to me, please.”

At the sound of your voice, his back went rigid and his head snapped up. Despite the anguish you felt, you were still able to appreciate the play of muscle across his shirtless torso: watching the muscles dance as he finished with the wraps and tossed them across the room.

It’s been weeks since he’s even talked to me and I’m still ogling this idiot...must be love. Either that or he’s just insanely hot. 

You were snapped out of your lusty daze when he made a beeline for a side door.

Oh no you don’t...

“Doors are locked, Barnes,” you call out, steel in your voice. “They’re going to stay locked until we talk and figure our shit out.” 

Before he could try running again, or claim that nothing was wrong, you dove in. 

“Ever since I met you, my life has become this crazy, happy, scary, whirlwind. It has affected me, you - who has been fucking reclusive; and my family - who aren’t currently speaking to me either! My house is gone, my brother is in the hospital, my life has been threatened, and I’ve had no one for company except a recovering alcoholic with enough troubles of his own!

“I know that all of this trouble has to do with you and the organization who held you captive. Hell, it’s been suggested that our initial introductions may have been orchestrated by Hydra, for fuck sakes! They tried to put you under mind control in order to have you kill me! Yet, through it all, you acted like a gentleman, a hero, my rescuer. And, you know what? I started to fall in love with that guy. Crazy right?! I barely knew him! But he seemed so perfect, always knew what to say, what to do, took charge in a crisis.

“Then we get here, and you ignore me?! You refuse to see me! I’ve been needing you, and you’ve completely shut me out and not even told me why! I know I’m not crazy when I say there is something between us, I know you feel it too. So why are you pushing me away?! Let me help, let me share my hurt and confusion, let me take comfort in having you close!”

You had been yelling your stream of consciousness out, not even sure if anything you had just said made sense to him; you just needed to lay it all out. Now that it was, you were exhausted.

“I just, Bucky I just miss you. I can’t explain it, this pull I feel towards you but I refuse to ignore it. Please, I need you,” the last word coming out in barely a whisper. “Now, please, tell me what is going on inside that gorgeous head of yours? You might as well, you’re locked in here with me until I’m satisfied.”

Bucky had spun around and stared at you with wide eyes while you were speaking, but it wasn’t until a smirk spread across his face that you realized the double meaning of your last sentence.

He started stalking towards you with a gleam in his eye you hadn’t seen before. It simultaneously sent chills up your spine and heat shooting down to your core. Not completely sure of his intentions, and refusing to get distracted from getting answers, you began to take a step back for every one that Bucky took forward. 

“Talk to me, Buck,” you crooned, not completely successful in keeping the desire out of your voice.

“I’m scared, doll,” he finally began and breaking your heart with those three words. “For the first time in seventy years I have something to lose, and I’m scared. I’ve put you through more than a lifetime’s worth of trauma, dragged your amazing family into my shit, and now the people who turned me into a monster know about you. About us. They know, Y/N. Do you understand how dangerous they are? I just found you, and I feel like no matter what I do I’m going to lose you.” Bucky hadn’t broken eye contact with you, and you could see the glistening of unshed tears in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to do to fix this, so I hid like a coward. I just, doll, I don’t know what to do.”

You launch yourself at Bucky and he catches you mid-jump. Wrapping your legs around his waist you hug his head to your chest and just hold each other. 

“I don’t know what to do either, baby, but let’s figure it out together from now on, okay?” You murmur into his hair.

Nodding, Bucky loosens his grip around your waist and thigh and you slowly slide down his body until you’re facing each other. 

“Hey stranger,” you whisper, gazing into his cerulean eyes.

You’ll never be sure who kissed who, but it really didn’t matter. You both poured your hearts into it, saying more with that kiss than you ever could with words. 

Part 11 

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