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aeempress · 3 years

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Apritello Express Evidences, part 3

Apritello, my dear friends, is really all hints, devil in details, little pieces that, in the end, become a huge picture.

I can't say that there are a lot of episodes with April and Donnie spending quality time together, no. But all episodes are important to understand how their relationship are involving, growing. If you have sharp eyes and think about all of this even a little bit, you will be surprised how gracefully their relationship changes and grows, how characters evolve.

Dear passengers, we're about to start. Mind the gap!

Episodes “The Gumbus” and “Mrs. Cuddles”.

I think it would be appropriate to analyze these episodes in bunch, because they have common situations of spooky supernatural stuff and reactions of characters to this.

When you watch these two eps in raw, it's easy to see how alike are reactions of Donnie and April in some scary, really odd situations.

Adrenaline ‘n’ reclessness

April is really into all spooky things in “The Gumbus”, she's not afraid of some creepy stuff and she's really brave girl who easily copes with stressful and life-threatening situations.

Donnie is incredibly calm and collected when alive doll talked to him.

But still, April was frightened about plush rabbit because it was really unexpected for girl, she wasn’t ready to realize that plush doll that she’d worked with is alive fear-eating monster who will hurt and intimidate to get their precious screams. But point remains: Donnie and April share crazy fearlessness, which turns into an adrenaline addiction.

And here I am, a science guy, who tell you: adrenaline is a big deal for our body. This hormone can even provoke an onset of romantic feelings. Chemistry and anatomy come to fill the gaps: when a person is afraid, their pulse quickens, a cocktail of hormones is releasing into the blood, which sharpen the senses and reflexes. It will create a strong emotional bound, that's important for maintaining romantic kind of feelings. The more impressions there are (even negative ones), the higher the chance that person will remember his|her partner, and want to see them again – the body gets hooked on adrenaline, like a drug.

That’s why D&A have so strong, unshakeable boundaries. They are so alike: their attitude to scary things, the way Donnie and April cope with them, the adrenaline addiction their share. They even express feelings the same way.

And one tiny detail: April and Donnie start the teasing Raph for his fear of mrs. Cuddles. So they become the first victims of plushie.

Friendly reminder: they were the 1st victims, and what’s happened with them we don’t know, because it wasn’t shown due to not ruin the atmosphere of suspense.

But we have a beautiful quote of mrs. Cuddles and this precious shot which explain everything

Raph: Where’s Donnie?

Cuddles: In a happy place where he’ll scream and I can grow forever and now you’re gonna join him!

In a happy place, huh? Tied up with April in Splinter’s bedroom, a really happy place. Hold a sec, are they -

And after that Donnie’s responding is killing me.

Donnie:[OS] I'm afraid of togetherness.

Yep. All normal here. We should continue.

"Operation Normal" even though doesn't show a lot of interactions between April and Donnie, however continues the general outline highlighting the topics that were mentioned earlier in the show.

Firstly, April's relationship with her classmates. We're able to see how poor her scholar life is in "Hypno Part Deux" and "The Purple Jacket". She has no "normal", human friends except some strange remora guy, more like acquaintance than friend, though. But still, having "be normal" kick she's fine with Donnie's weirdness ( Mikey is always beyond all normal comprehension, Raph goes weird while he's alone, without brothers, and his fear of miss Cuddles is no big deal to fam, Leo didn't show any weird stuff during the series, like, reeeeal weird, m'kay?).

Conversation between April and Donnie at pizza spot

Really interesting and smooth scene. We’ve got Donatello who stares at April while he’s waiting his favourite pizza, no big deal.

And his legs.

If a person is interested in you, during a conversation, they will put their right foot forward (a left-handed person is more likely to put their left foot forward) in order to close the distance between you. - Check.

being in company, peson will point the sock at the most pleasant interlocutor for them. - check.

April’s legs are ponted at Donnie. Checkmate.

Yeah, April is hanging out with Donatello and Leonardo, but the main focus of hers is on Donnie.

All these scene makes me think that Donnie, knowing about how badly sometimes April wants to be normal, is up to help her overcome this. Fight fire with fire: fill up her life with all of this weird, mystic stuff so it will be normal with time. Regular people go to pizza spot to spend some quality time together, so we have pizza restaraunt here, in Hidden City. Make all odd normal, and problem will solved.

Donnie really tries his best, look at his face. Dee’s fine with all this bizzare things what happens to April, he’s fine with her. But still he fails, because April’s concept of normalcy differs drom Donnie’s.

And again, for Donnie it’s not a problem at all. He’s always was at the opposite side of normalcy and it doesn’t matter for him if April is in the same boat with him. Cause, as I said, Don’s fine with that.

Second, how much Donnie knows about April.

- Scoff! Are you really still on this whole "I want things to be normal" kick?

- Yes, what big city girl doesn't have a kayak and has hazmat suit?

Interesting detail here: this line launches Donnie’s flashback (because the first scene is from “Purple Jacket”, it’s Dee’s episode, obviously). And Don, as far as I can tell, has in his flashback moments with April when she did something reaaally impressive. His face is way more louder than any words.

- Short answer: no. Long answer: nnooooooooo.

- Oh, no! You know how April freaks out around the cosplay wizards!

These tiny lines are containing a lot of background, stories, intimate conversations that April and Donnie share. This show always does the same trick: we never see a direct action, we are only able to see a result or statement of the result. But series do a great work telling us with such small and imperceptible gestures that their bonding at this point is mutual. Not only D tells April about his inventions, family and fam's issues he has and even his falls, mistakes and failures. April does the same thing, sharing with Donatello one of the most important things to her. Problem that really bothers her.

C'mon, he'd even memorized Sunita's name, though April messed up with this situation a bit. It seems Donnie memorizes facts about April - he remembered the wi-fi password from old April's work as we can see in "The Longest fight" (he could hack it easily, he's a genius, why he's been keeping in mind some piece information that useless for a year? It doesn't make any sense)

Oh, and that. Just a coincidence, I guess?

Just alike suits, no big deal. Plus, the whole family has it (and something tells me that guys have suits at the behest of Don, so probably April does). But Donnie and April has a lot in common like emotional expressions, reaction about some kind situations, fight style and even tastes in fashion.

Also, it seems like Donnie's been watching April for sometimes.

While Leo was hiding in trash can, to not catch anyone's eye rather than April. He definitely couldn't know who was passing by, but there was Donnie to observe from above. That's why he was hanging down the stairs when Leo spoke to April.

It’s not the first time Donnie dress up as old lady to monitor April’s day.

Leo: Why do you always make us dress up as old ladies? Donnie: №1: confort, №2: to blend in as we monitor April’s day for max normalcy.

3. Even when D took away this cosplay wizard, he's still keeping eye on her.

Oh no, you don’t. Grandmas here!

Donatello changes his foe to save April exactly. He fought all evening with Brutus, but when April slightly gets in danger, Donnie just attacked anyone who has intention to hurt her and ruin her evening.

Is that a flying turtle in an old purple dress?

April, who all evening was trying to look “normal”, hiding her real friends because they are mutant turtles and pretending that nothing unusual happens here, finally gives up when Sunita mentioned Donnie. Even though new April’s friend has asked her before about Leo.

His eyes.

Donnie is really impressed but what he saw, and the reason - April O'Neil.

The episode "Warren & Hypno, sitting in a Tree" is another incredible piece of whole picture.

Turtle tank is decorated for April birthday in purplish scheme, definetely Donatello's work.

Dee's nonverbal speech.

• He seems more interested and softer than usual looking at April. It's easy to say comparing him with brothers. Mikey is in anticipation of fun mode, Leo relaxed and show his "whatever it will be fun" attitude, Raph is listening carefully, but still, Donnie could just turn his head in April's vouce direction, not a whole body.

• Warren felt Don's gaze while talked with April, so worm made the remark. Pay attention to the construction of the frame of neighboring scenes. The second frame is April's perspective. And Don is looking namely at her.

Indignation. Disappointment. Spark, storm, madness (i love this russian meme, sorry not sorry)

• Donnie seems sincerely sorry for this situation with April's b-day. And again, this soft gaze and "Raph, shut the shell up, your nonsense is upsetting her"-eyes.

• Donatello is kind of person, who’s avoiding a proper confrontation, so he rarely stands up for someone. He were remaining silent, when Raphael tried to cheer April in the most radiculous way, but when Hypno tried to play with April’s feelings, Donnie blew it.

He’s obviously in wrath as D emote that expressively. Yeah, he had much on his plate at April’s birthday, but it’s her b-day on the line, not his pride.

Warren used April, playing with her fan feelings. Her idol betrayed her, she was locked up in a cage, and now we have Hypno who wants to use her again by pitting and pushing for her compassion, because, it’s obvious - boys would do everything she said.

And Donnie tries to keep Hypno away from her, protect her feelings from another betrayal.

As he’s already stated - “For you, anything”.

The show always tells us: if you wanna trigger Don, bring April in.

Hypno tried to turn this thing around, Leo did the same in “Al be back”.

If Hypno-tamus did that accidentally as he found out that April O’ Neil is a birthday girl, so her wishes that day were laws, Leo did it on purpuse.

Leo is good at manupulating and pulling some strings, plus he knows his twin as back of his hand. That’s why Leo mentioned April in the end as she was always the most powerful argument, the reason and motive for Donnie. At second he’s even panicked, but remained calm. He almost blew up his coolheaded image because of one certain girl in yellow.

• Donnie is really happy to present Warren's arm to April. He even holds it like a rare, priceless treasure. D is really proud of himself right now: he saved the day, after all. The emotional reaction of hers is exactly what Donnie wants to get. And then, his final pose, while April is on 9th cloud from happiness - that's really territorial gesture, D claims his supremacy and confidence, telling "See? That's my happy birthday girl".

Leapfrog with a composition

Donnie and April are more and more eager to be together in the frame. Composition’s boners, m’kay.

Special ride for April

Yeah, Donnie used to offer his battleshell to give April a special ride. It even has a seat and handlebars for her comfort. She can control the flight as well as Donatello, they are like co-pilots. But he never carried her on his back before.

Usually, April is carried by Raphael, on his neck/shoulder, and she’s fine with it. Raph is strong enough to carry her without any difficulties or slowing down.

It’s not Donnie’s weak to carry her - no, he strong enough to carry his battleshell with a lot stuff in it everyday, Don can carry Splints on his shoulder without any apparent difficulty. He strong enough to hold the weight of his battleshell+April. Oh, c’mon, D assembled the Turtle tank only by himself and this for sure requires a lot of physical strength in order to engage in auto mechanics. Try lifting the wheel with tyre, and you'll see what I mean. Of course, there is a jack, but it will not solve all the problems. Don could use hydraulics and Archimedes ' laws, but I'm sure he did most of it with his own hands. Lifting and carrying, all by himself.

Not the strengh what’s matter but another point.

The sequence where Donnie carries April on his back doesn’t last long, it’s pretty easy to miss, while Raph openly do that with April on him.

Plus April’s gaze: she’s staring right at us with her “ninja-eyes” as if they were caught in the middle of something. The duration and length of the sequence, the way it is made all of this arouse certain thoughts.

It’s like nobody should see this. Too personal. To be more specific - too close and intimate?

Donnie stated a few times that he’s not into togetherness, tactile interaction and phisical side of contacts. Although he's fine with his brothers, don't forget that April is a girl. Even if she feels like part of family, she’s not his relative. She’s not his sister.

Some people tend to avoid physical contact with the objects of their interest. And this behaviour fits in Don’s character. He’s anxious type with a lot of psychological and emotional issues. Yeah, he tries to cover it up, built a shell to protect himself, behave as confident extravert but he’s nothing like that. Sometimes D tends to distance himself from his family, to hide in his shell, and we've seen that throughout the show.

Don hangs by his phone quite often, he addicted to this as his comfort zone, his peaceful cave, where everything is much easier,

Don pretends he’s so busy with his science stuff to ward off his brothers (ep. Mind Meld),

Don went to the lab to work on his projects, while he could hang out with April and the brothers (ep. Mrs. Cuddles). And he left for what? To work on self-cleaning tooth pick, or the titan bust of himself? It’s seems like lame excuse to be alone. He’s definetely an intovert, who sometimes needs some space and time with himself.

All his cocky behaviour is showing off to hide insecure, diffident and vulnerable creature, softshell purple turtle. Yeah, Donnie has confidence in what he’s great in: tech, science stuff, where he’s only one is capable of. But if someone steps on his domain or doubts his authority, his true colours exposed.

And, once again, “Mind meld” is a great evidence of that. Would callous, unsumpathetic guy without heart have a wall with pictures of his fellows? I’m afraid not. Donnie has a soft, caring heart.

There’s an alley of his the dearest moments, because photos - are always memory, precious moments we want to keep.

1 - from “Minotaur Maze”. Don loves good pizza, loves his brothers, and they have a little adventure together. Yeah, this photo isn’t on champ wall, but still.

2 - from “Mascot melee”. Important day for bros as they show themselves to people at daylight to rescue Raph and their operation to buy a new robe for his father. It’s their joint brothers dance, and D is loving to dance, remember? Definetely special occasion.

3 - from “Mascot melee”. Splints was really glad to receive a gift from boys. And Donatello, as we know, is always eager to achive for pop’s approval. This for sure must be in his precious moments collection.

5, 7 - from “Donnie’s gifts”. He even keeps a dorky photo, which Raph uses as profile pic at Donnie’s number.

8, 9 - “Down with the sickness”. It was funny to survive all the 7 stages to achive what boys wanted. They failed, but still.

10 - from “Al be back”. Who knows that Splints is so good at singing?

4, 6 - from “The Fast and the Furriest”. Strange choice, cuz, you know, photos ten seconds before his collision with April bat?

And yeah, he HAS April’s photo here. And at this pic it’s April, and April alone,without his brothers.

Don’s a real softie, see?

And avoiding physical contact is a way to protect Donnie’s already shattered self-esteem. To not cause any doubts in front of girl which he’s interested in. That’s possible reason why we did not receive any heartwarming hugs in “The Purple Jacket”.

But Donnie carries April, because it’s her birthday. On the one hand, the girl claims that her b-day is cursed, and Donnie could, by any chance, do something nice for her, and on the other hand - any request of the bithday girl - is the law, as we could see earlier.

Gift for birthday girl

There is no Donnie in the scene after Draxum throw off Warren's arm. While Raph comfort April about her birthday, Donnie was looking for it to present it to April.

He knows the best what is the most precious gift for her. Warren Stone, her idol, goat of making news; she have been in Stoneheads fanclub for 9 years. Also, it seems that Donnie is the one of turtles, who collected info about this worm.

Also, he stopped immediately when April stepped between them and show no disappointing (remind you about Donnie's sadistic science guy nature). The reason is April.

And another cute detail: their glasses are the same form.

Another episode "Mystic library" has slightly touched D&A interaction. But were talking about Apritello, it's all hints but quality.

When Mayham trapped in the mirror and Raph, Leo and Mikey obviously are not coping, April decides to call Donnie to clear situation up.

Donnie, mister "I ruin everything", she's going to call for help. I repeat this. April calls for help Mr. Science to solve mystic problems with her pet. MYSTIC PET.

And he AGREES.

Turtles dissuade their friend from calling Donatello but after a while, April returns with Donnie, and sees the bathroom in ruins.

I'm gonna clear this moment.

1. April haven’t called Donnie.

2. Some time later she returns with Dee.

3. Our girl is pretty shocked to see her bathroom in ruins, argo she didn't see/hear Raph chose to solve problem with smashing.

It must mean only ine thing: April went for Donnie by herself. We don't know where was he, we don't know what the reason April brought Donnie with her by herself, 'cause we know that if she call Dee, he will definitely get to her immediately.

Something is definetely off.

By the way, April changed Don’s profile pic.Yeah, the first one is very informative since Donnie is a turtle and he’s purple and he has bandana. Seems like April have done it by herself, editing the photo of real turtle. She didn't put a lot of effort into this, this image doesn't show her real attitude towards Don. But second is more personality-tinged. Sleeping Donatello in all his gear - this detail can tell us about only one thing - he was photographed when he fell asleep after his sleepless night(s) working hard at something - is something she can catch or receive by boys (namely speaking, it’s Leo, according to Ben Schwartz stated in an interview, that if Leo had an Instagram account, that 60 to 70% of his photos would be his brothers caught sleeping or slipping on things). And still. April has a dorky and little embarrassing pic of Donatello and this is... Interesting and cute?

This profile pic remind me about ROTTMNT: Sound off! (2nd issue)

The next station is “The Purple Game”.

Another episode in which the interaction of the characters is small in timing, but great in content.

And once again: they have a lot in common. I’d never tired of repeating this thing ‘cause the series do the same trick, showing one thing from different points of view. April and April shares the same taste in games, the same attitude, the same mojo.

But the most important thing here is how D&A interacrions are shown in this episode. Unlike other episodes, the interaction here is indirect, is provided by gaming.

Their customized avatars reflects their personality. I mean, the colour schemes (though Donatello has never shown any interest in yellow, he used it for customization of his persona), the way their avatars looking. Game even refering to Sherlock_Corn as “she”, albeit it’s impossible to refer to her avatar in female pronoun. Because, you know, design and nickname?

And the in-game interaction of the avatars resembles D&A irl relationships. Bootyyyshaker 9000 don’t like togetherness, he’s looking like Donnie’s expectation of himself (cool and tough guy, as D sees himself in his own dreams)

Their dialogue

Actually. Actually, Donnie and April are not able to hear each other as game has no voice chat, but their lines make an perfect dialogue nevertheless.

April:Bootyshaker9000? Donnie?

Donnie:April? You’re the last person I need to destroy to achive rank №1!

April:Ditto!

Both:There can only be one!

Donnie said the cheat combination, so April would know for sure what he is supposed to do, but she has no idea.

So, once again: their sync is incredible.

And can we talk about that?

April’s attack

As it seems, attacks may be customized by players. Bootyyshaker has attack that refers at Donatello main feature - superior intellect.

And this attack isn’t effective, because REAL April O’Neil has a resist towards it. She has known D for years, she knows what he’s capable of, she’s aware of his nerd side. April’s immune to it, so Sherlock_Corn is.

Sherlock_corn has a default attack - kernel cannon. It’s nod to her nickname: kernel, corn, the same book. But her second atteck is something reflecting her personalitiy. Plus, April is aware of Donnie’s “fear” of togetherness. All’s fair in love and war, right?

April took a lot of BS9000 hp by her “friendly hugs”. And, by the way, his sweet reaction for hugs.

So:

The selection of the final opponent. It might be literally anyone, but we wouldn’t be able to see Dee’s obsession in that case. Yeah, he’s already had a demon possesion ™, but it was too easy to him to win. No challenge. No “kill or be killed”, “It’s me or you” mojo. He needed some tough gamer for challenging, to develop his character, push him too far. And April, actually, is an excellent choice to reveal the character of certain purple turtle.To expose his true colours. And April do a great job: they know each other, so battle will be spicy, they are both compepitors, they are so alike, so it would be intersting to watch Donatello vs April. And it will, ‘cause In-game April and In-game Don is somewhat different than them usual.

April is Don’s slayer for sure. She’s good at gaming, her last attack was almost fatal for him. So he had to to cheated on her.

Captain Cuddlecakes. Yes, she know about his afraid of togetherness. And there’s lovey-dovey attack animation with this cuddling and Donatello’s persona behaves like him. And it was SPECIAL RUN, so... I haven’t the foggiest why. Cute detail, I mean.

Just look at it. Isn’t it cute?(at least we got their hugs somewhere... kinda. kinda.)

“Snow Day“, albeit being family episode, shows a lot about D&A relationship through “family war”.

First of all, the same taste in films.

Donnie’s already shown the same attitude to fashion, scary things as Cap O'Neil, April shares the same gamer’s mojo as Donatello, but now? We have Donnie and April that are loving the same movie.

For love of purple supernovas, of all the Jupiter Jim’s movies (and there are more than 60 of them), that's a convinient coincidence, they like the same movie.

It stated in series several times that Dee is fond of Atomic Lass. He had crush on her when he was child, he admires her by all his heart, so it will make sense if films with this character he would be his favourite. It’s logical, isn’t it?

Atomic Lass, even if she is part of JJ-universe, however, isn't in every movie. Leo described "JJ: Pluto vacation IV" and there is no sights of Atomic Lass. Like, at all.

Nevertheless, April’s claimed that “PV-4” is the best movie of the time, and Don agrees.

April:What the whaaaat? Hold up, Skip. “Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation 4″ is the best JJ movie of all time.

Donnie:Ranked, by us, just now. So it’s basically official, no arguing.

And they do this thing again. Reflecting each other. Facial expressions, intonations, poses and etc. Haven’t I mentiones that? Mirroring is natural way to build communication. People, who communicate enthusiastically, who have sympathy to each other, feelings of certain nature, unconsciously copy each other's poses.

Direct reflection and close contact have a strong effect. This is used between lovers, people with close relationships or interested in each other.

And you can see that during not only episode, but through the whole series.

Poses, gestures, facial expressions they share constantly. Even if they are apart, they are mirroring each other, showing their bound. Because Apritello is not always about sitting close, holding hands and blushing. Apritello is about staying together even if they are not. It’s about solid foundation, about synergy, about chemistry Donnie and April share. And all of these are not always so obvious and clear, evident. But so realistic nevertheless.

And that’s why they splitted off the fam - they are too close and alike.

I stated it before but DonniexApril team is way more effective than Donniexbrothers team. Donatello and April are equal, worth each other. They are comfortable with each other, their teamwork is amazing.

They are always near, close to each other for the entire episode. Stand up for each other, side by side. They have no need to do team-building, because their sincronization is incredible. April works well together with Donnie, their skills compliment each other.

I love that April in a first place look at Donnie to check is everything alright.

And a cherry on top?

This inviting gesture. Donnie just watched all along how his brothers and April try to throw some cold water on this situation (khem, it slipped). But when April call him with this inviting gesture, he’d like to help.

In other words, he was waitng when April requests for his help.

Composition’s boners

Sometimes it happens during the show, but this episode beat hte score at this point. I say only one word: physics. Or, more precisely, the force of attraction. Or, maybe Mayham.

... Anyway.

Fitting in the type

April can play not so nice against her enemies, she got steady hand and meanness, merciless and reclessness. She’s passionate and kinda badass, sassy - in a positive way, she’s baddest girl who can kick your butt if you mess with her, and she really good at this.

She has a fire, and Donnie likes that. Dee never stated that directly but miss O’Neil impressed him so many times and in different way so it’s kinda pretty obvious.

Just look how Donatello reacted the way April took Raph down a peg. Her actions are elegant, relaxed but really sly. She almost dare Raph to put his flag on top only to bring him down to Earth in really painful way. She destroyed Bros’ team so easily just by waiting a bit and by calling Mayham.

She’s definetely got some pepper.

Pretty cute but baddest, don’t you think?

And Donnie was impressed for sure, he admitted it - “That is fun for me”. He don’t even stand a chance, c’mon: she’s smarass and elegant, she can be mean and cute at the same time.

Even though that’s it for season 1 analysis (the last series is more appropriate to review as part of 2nd season, plus it was a reaally big post, I need some time)

You can refresh this whole situation in the car 1 and the car 2 or follow the hashtag #apritello express as you please. It’s a pleasure of mine, keep in touch :)

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bcdrawsandwrites · 3 years

Photo

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

#dr loboto #loboto #caligosto loboto #psychonauts #my art #my writing #fanfic #who let me in this fandom

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crowtrinkets · 4 years

Text

Loved, Past Tense

WARNING: LUCIO REVERSED ENDING SPOILERS

Word Count: 2,123

The apprentice is now the devil, they have the undying love and admiration of Lucio. But they cannot help by miss Asra their friend. With their new-found knowledge and powers, they attempt to talk to Asra, confront him.

I was inspired after reading Lucio’s revered ending, plz don’t judge my attempt at angst too hard.

The click of Lucio’s boots exiting through the gate as he heads back to the mortal world echoes in my realm. That's right. My realm. I run my clawed hand along my throne admiring its handiwork. I wonder how many millennia the previous devil spent sitting here, waiting for entertainment. I do not desire to grow bored here all alone while Lucio makes conquests for Vesuvia in the name of the Devil. My name. Nadia fights back with her family in Prakra, I feel a slight tinge of remorse knowing she’s fighting so hard. I wish she would submit it would make things so much easier if my friends were on my side. Then there is the matter of Asra. My dear teacher, my friend, he left without so much as a goodbye. I wish he said goodbye. With a wave of my magic, an image appears before me. My shop, our shop. It looks like no one has been home in months. The dust building on the counter brings a frown to my face.

"I have to find him."

I will the image away placing my hands in my lap. I’ll have to meditate on this. Becoming the Devil gave me a vast knowledge of the unknown. Secrets I never knew as a mortal suddenly became common knowledge to me. I know about my past, all the details of it, Asra's deal with the Arcana. If I were not how I am now I may have lost my mind with the knowledge of my life before my death, but I’m stronger now. Asra and I share a heart, I can use my magic, my power to find him. It’s just a matter of if he will let me. Closing my eyes I reach out, with my magic or my newfound powers I cannot tell the difference. It seems they merged together. I find a thread and grab it, but it severs the minute I grab hold. Asra must have recognized me. I will find him. I lounge into my throne admiring the palace-like structure the devil created for this realm, it's a little vast for my taste but maybe I’m just used to my shop. No matter, I have other things to worry about.

—-

I stand out in the red fields, running my hand over a crater and filling it with water. I have found that Asra is partial to water magic. I have tracked his location without raising suspicions. It was all thanks to my creatures that Lucio is so fond of. I managed to find an item tethered to Julian and tracked him, being as they are traveling together, Asra as well. They’re in some far off desert town. Whatever they’re doing there I do not know, nor do I care, I just want to talk to Asra. I wave my hand over the water and concentrate on Julian's aura. He doesn’t use a lick of magic so he wouldn’t even notice my presence.

“Asra! Tubs free!” I hear the ring of a man's voice, Julian's, judging by the red hair poking underneath a towel as he walks out of view.

“Thank you, Julian, did you refill it?” Asra's voice.

“Ah I did, I hope the water is a good temperature?” I roll my eyes at the attempt of flirting. I hear Julian leave and the door close. Asra lets out a sigh, I hear the movement of fabric, as he removes his shirt. Asra approaches the tub reaching a hand towards the water, but stops when he sees my face staring back at him.

“Hello Asra,” is all I can muster to say. Asra stares stunned for a minute then starts.

“H-hello,” it seems he’s at a loss for words, rare for him.

“Why have you been hiding, why haven’t you visited me,” Asra’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I don’t understand, why would I visit you? Do you know the carnage Lucio has laid waste to in Vesuvia?” His voice is in a harsh whisper, he doesn’t want the others to hear that he’s talking to me. No matter I do not care about them.

“Lucio is doing what I asked of him, those people don’t understand I’m doing them a service,” I continue to stare Asra down, my eyes refusing to leave his. He looks at me, his expression neutral but I can see behind his eyes. Fear, anger, sadness, I can feel it in our shared hearts.

“Allowing people to die? Raiding nearby territories? That's what you call service? What happened to you?” Asra grips the edges of the tub, disgust forming on his face. “Why did you leave us, back there, with the world turtle, you didn't even say anything, no goodbye….. No nothing,” I feel the taste of anger settle in my mouth.

“Why did you leave me!” I hiss, leaning close to the water. Asra takes a step back. “All those days you left on your journeys, leaving me to run the shop on my own, disappearing in the morning without so much as a goodbye?”

“You wouldn’t understand, MC-“

“Oh? Wouldn’t I?” I tap the water with a claw, allowing it to distort and ripple the image of Asra. I reach into the water and allow myself to be engulfed. For a second I don't see anything, then my eyes settle. I'm in the bathroom Asra is in. It’s small, wooden, there is a multitude of towels folded on shelves, countless bottles of soaps and scents on a table. A window behind me reveals a vast desert. I turn back and face Asra who looks up at me in horror.

“Do not be afraid Asra, I mean you no harm, I just want to know why,” he takes a step back, craning his neck up as I stand in the bathtub. I crouch down into the tub, sitting so my height is less intimidating. If I wanted to scare him I would’ve done it ages ago.

“I-I can’t tell you,” Asra avoids my eyes, looking to the floor instead, as he backs up and falls into a stool. He puts his head into his hands and lets out a sigh.

“I know, Asra,” he looks up at me. Before he starts I interrupt. “I know everything, I know about my death, how I died of the plague. How we were friends before… more than friends,” I pause allowing my words to take root. “Your deal, the reason my memories were wiped. I. Know. Everything.” I growl, gripping the edges of the tub, leaning forward to emphasize my words, my anger at his secrets. Asra gawks for a second, leaning his elbows on his knees before he starts.

“Then why bother asking if you know everything, I ran away for a reason, MC… To get away from you,” There's a hint of anger in his wavering voice.

“Then why leave, if you were so fond of me Asra, why did you not act on it, I have seen realities where you and I could have been together,” I can feel tears welling in my eyes, but I barely feel the sadness, it remains in the back of my mind, sitting behind a glass wall, visible but unreachable. “I loved you Asra... Loved,” Asra winces at confession.

“I should have been there for you,” his voice wavers, tears threatening to leave his eyes.

“Yes! You should have... You left the second before Countess Nadia came into our shop that night. Maybe you knew it was her, and you wanted to get rid of me... you were tired of taking care of me and you didn't have the courage to say anything,” Asra stands.

“No, no no that’s not what happened! I-I I couldn’t bear the thought of not being with you, holding you, calling you mine. W-when I would tell you of your past you would go into this catatonic state,” Asra’s voice begins to break. “I couldn’t bear to hurt you anymore so I had to let you go... B-but for you to end up with Lucio? Why would you do this to me… I loved you,”

“Lucio has shown me more love and dedication than you ever have!” I lurch forward sending the baths water over the edge.

“You call that love? Him blindly following you like a lost pup?” Asra tenses. I can see the mental battle going on in his mind. I can feel the way his heart pounds in his chest, as mine mimics his.

“Lucio stole my parents from me… I was so alone for years, having to fend for myself,” he places a hand on his chest, attempting bravado.

“Your parents brought that among themselves, they knew the terms of their deal with the devil and the took it,” I bark out, window-rattling behind me. “Lucio was doing what was asked of him by the devil, the fact that your parents even took the deal says a lot about them, about you,” Asra of all people should know that deals are not a one-sided project.

He reaches down and picks up the shirt he previously removed and grabs hold of the doorknob. At that moment I summon chains to grab hold of the knob and slam it close before Asra can make his way out. Asra flinches and stares at them, backing up and leaning against the wall, his stare shifts to me, cold and deadpanned.

“I may have forgiven Lucio for what he did to me, but that does not change his past! The things he did,”

“People can change Asra,” I say almost sing-song.

“You’ve changed… For the worst,” his voice shakes, his fists clench and I can feel his magic reach out, trying to find anything to fight me with.

“Oh yes Asra, I have changed,” I step out of the bath, one hoof at a time, sauntering towards to him, as though we were having a friendly conversation. Towering over him I can feel the fear creeping up inside him.

“But not for the worst. You and I, master, we’re similar.” Asra’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and anger. “You recreated me, for your own selfish means, why couldn’t you just let me stay dead? You wanted a weak, helpless follower. To worship you, love you and you got what you wanted,” I reach up towards Asra’s head.

“N-no that’s not what I wante-“ I grab him by his hair, angling him so he can look at me properly. He hisses in pain grabbing my wrist attempting to pull free. But my grip is too strong.

“And now that I’ve surpassed you, you can’t bear the thought. Your poor little Apprentice doesn’t need you anymore. So you run away, hide from your regrets, I will always know where you are, Asra,” I lift my hand, poking a claw into Asra’s chest right over his heart, not enough to break the skin, but enough to sting. His breath hitches when I make contact. “We share a heart remember? I know everything you’re feeling, I know you feel disgusted and fearful. But you even yearn for me. You can’t forget me,” I see a spark of magic forming in Asra’s hand, I summon chains to bind his hands above his head before he does.

“You’re no better than the last devil,” he chokes out through pained gasps. Tears fall from his face, but his expression remains full of anger. Hatred.

“Maybe, maybe not, but you can’t do anything to stop me. Killing the devil almost destroyed me. That’s why I had to become him, you could never do something like that… Lucio saved my life he aided in my ascension, you revived me to keep me to yourself,” I let go of Asra and back up towards to tub, keeping eye contact. Once again I feel tears threatening to fall from my eyes, but I do not feel sorrow. Asra on the other hand is crying. I feel his heartbreak, and mine as well but I am numb to the feeling.

“I-I hate you…” He means it.

“That may be so, but you still love me as well,” I step back into the tub.

“I HATE YOU!” Asra flings a bottle at my head but I am already sinking in the water, too fast for it to make contact. I hear a crash and then nothing.

I pull my head from the water, sitting up. I am back in my realm, sitting on the edge of the water. I look back down but there is no image, just the reflected red sky above me and my face, distorted by shadows. Something drops into the water causing it to ripple. I bring a hand to my face.

Tears.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fic #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana lucio #asra alnazar #julian devorak #lucio montag #lucio morgasson #lucio route #lucio reversed ending #crow writes

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mar-iiposa · 4 years

Text

"You're What?"

prompt: How would the Bayverse boys react to their s/o finding out that she is pregnant, and she is afraid/scared to tell them? The pregnancy was not planned. Hope you're having a great day/night <3

a/n: this was requested by an anonymous user as a bit of a long story, meant for all four turtles, but I'm deciding on separating it so it looks better on my masterlist later on. hope that enjoy, and make sure to read the tags I have included down below, just in case !

warnings: slight mention of abortion but that's it, mention of needles drawing blood (not too graphic of course), unplanned pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex.

word count: 2.6k

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Your roommate, April's, voice rang out when she saw you hurry towards the bathroom in such a rush, for the third time today, and it was just barely 2 pm. She was concerned that you weren't doing so good, never having seen you in a peculiar state like this before. As late of this past week, you've started to show signs of illness and restlessness, constantly moody, which we knew was odd for you at times. "Do you need anything?" She gently knocked on the bathroom door, hearing the faucet run on the other side before it was turned off. "I'm good, thanks," You murmur, loud enough for her to at least comprehend what you're saying. Outside of the restroom, April looked down for a moment, hesitant on whether to truly believe you or not. However, she didn't bother to really question it. "I'll be out, text if you need me."

After getting up a little too fast, you feel a small, sharp pain in your breasts, causing you to wince and cup them lightly out of instinct. Over the last few days, you've been noticing some changes. Weird ones too. For starters, you missed your period, it was supposed to roll around about, what, three/four days ago. You kept it tracked monthly on your phone, and by now, it would seem to probably come later than usually expected. Never did you have an irregular menstrual cycle, sometimes periods tend to come a little bit late but this was still odd enough. Not to forget, you had been vomiting like crazy at times, especially in the mornings and early afternoons of the day, sometimes at night if you're "lucky" enough. Topping those off, you felt fatigued, you were bloated, strangely moody, and you really needed to pee way more. A lot more, actually.

You had turned off the faucet in the bathroom, hunching over the sink, still with little droplets of water sliding down and into the drain. You look into the mirror, bags under your eyes have started to form from lack of sleep after literally vomiting your guts out in the middle of the night, having to hold your own hair back yourself if April would be completely knocked out from work. It wasn't a rare occurrence for her to be passed out on her bed or the couch, after a long day of working. You were employed, too, it was just that you took a day off to find out what the hell these symptoms were. Who knows, maybe you were falling sick?

You do your hair and style it just a little, unbothered by if you looked like crap or not, you could care less. You were throwing up and felt almost sick, why wouldn't you look unappealing at the very least? Grabbing your keys and things, you make your way towards the subway almost downtown, avoiding eye contact with almost anyone and everyone, not feeling at your best. It felt like your self-esteem had taken a downwards decline in the last couple of days prior. Not that you never got irritated or anything, but it was peculiar to you that all of a sudden, you had mood swings that changed from one mood to another like a bolt of lightning. Hell, even your boyfriend, Leo, noticed fairly quickly, but he decided not to press on you too much about it.

Getting off of the subway train, you head to your physician's office, opening the door of the building, the cooled atmosphere of the room hitting you within seconds of your entrance of the room.

"Hello, Ms. L/N, are you here for your appointment today?" The female receptionist gazed up at you from her glasses, frames pink, wearing a light shawl over her arms and shoulders. "I am," You give her a nod, her gaze traveling back to the computer screen as she typed away, the sound of her dark red acrylics hitting the smooth black keys. "Sure does get cold in here," She chuckled, a small short in the middle of her laugh, "take a seat, miss."

Doing so, you sit near the TV of the waiting room, the magazines on the table ahead stared back at you, the words 'VOGUE' written on the modernistic cover. The television was of bland taste, just going over the weather expected for today and the rest of the week and into the weekend. You cradle yourself slightly, your e/c eyes flickering down to your fingers and nails. About fifteen minutes or so later, the door to the back of the office opened, a nurse appearing in her scrub, "Y/N L/N?" Perking up at the mention of your name, you both make eye contact and she steps aside for you to walk in, giving a nod before directing you to a nearby room. Taking a seat, you wait until the doctor comes into view, greeting you with a friendly smile. "Ms. L/N, hi," She shook your hand, holding a clipboard under her left arm as she entered, "how are you? Is there a reason as to why you made an appointment for today?" Seconds after listing off your symptoms, she eyed you a bit suspiciously, writing down with her pen. "I'll send one of the nurses in for a blood test, I'm sure you'll be free to go then," The doctor pursed her lips in a tight smile, looking as though she had something on her mind as to what you could've had.

You sit there, for what feels like hours upon hours of silence, and you don't even notice the nurse coming in through the door at some point. "Alright, just relax for me." A pinching at your skin came from the needle, and the nurse draws some blood from your arm. Closing your eyes and glancing away from the view, the needle is drawn away from your arm after a while, patching the spot up with a band-aid. "You should get your answers shortly," 'Angela Bardot' (the nurse) states with a small, friendly smile as you give her a nod for a reply in return.

The receptionist sends you a wave goodbye as you approach the door on the way out, nodding your head and giving a wave back. Traveling home among the streets of New York, your mind is constantly filling up to the absolute brim of what the results would be. What if you were terrible sick? Had an illness that was incurable or deadly? How would you tell the ones you loved? Always tending to think of negative outcomes was a habit of yours, for as long as you can remember. You're so deep into your thoughts as you don't realize your boyfriend had called you a couple of times already. You unlock your phone after typing in the digits of your password, tapping onto his contact. "Hey," His voice rings from the other side, "I was trying to call you, is everything alright?" You can hear the worried tone through his end.

You run a hand through your hair as you neared the corner, coming closer to your New York apartment. "Yeah," you breathe out into the air of the apartment building, taking the provided elevator, "yeah, I'm okay." You could almost see the look of relief in those blue sapphire eyes of his, he responds, "Sorry, I almost panicked when you didn't pick up." You chuckle a little at that, knowing you almost always picked up on phone calls, holding onto your keys as you pushed your front entrance door open, "Nah, you know I can handle myself, Leo." You grin hearing his voice, chuckling at that. "I know, I know."

"I'll see you tonight?" He asks on his end, you immediately smile. "I give you my word." You can feel him smiling from 'ear to-ear' at your response, "Okay, I'll see you later then. Love you, princess." Your smile growing warm, heart fluttering at the words coming from your boyfriend, you speak back into the phone, "Love you too."

He was the first to hang up on the cell phone call, before you fall back onto your grey couch with a heavy sigh, soon leaning forward with your head in your hands, elbows firmly sitting on top of your knees. The TV is turned on from the remote in your hand, head leaning back into the couch, but only enough to still keep your eyes on the screen. Your phone rings again, and you assume it might be Leo again, calling to tell you something he might have forgotten or who knows what. Turning the phone over from it's front facing the cushions, and you recognize the contact number. "Hello?" You pick up, a recognizable voice rang through. "Hi, this is Dr. Rullston, I'm calling you to discuss your blood test results, yes?" Sitting straight up quickly, you feel yourself nod almost frantically, "Yes, it's not anything, right?" A long pause resonates between the two of you, and you can slightly hear the intake of a breath from her.

"Ms. L/N, you're pregnant."

Your heart completely drops as soon as you heard that, standing up from your seat within milliseconds. "What? I- I can't belie- !" She continues, "About almost two weeks pregnant is what I'm seeing. Congratulations miss." No, no, I didn't want a baby! I didn't know this would happen!

You look down at the floor as your breathing is nearly stressed, "Tha- Thank you, Dr. Rullston." Quick to hang up first, you almost drop your phone onto the apartment's hard wooden floor. How was this possible? Well, you knew how pregnancy and sex worked, but this was something completely shocking, at least to you! You think you at least had intercourse with a condom on! You and Leonar- Oh God, Leo! How would he react to this? He would be disappointed, he could leave you! Who would want to raise a child with you? Who would even want a knocked up lady if he did leave the relationship you had been building for practically a year?! You could get an abortion, that's it! No, no, no, you couldn't see yourself going through with that. Seeing others get abortions was something you were supportive of, but you had no absolute idea what in the hell to do! Do you want to keep it? That was something you didn't know the answer to.

Two hours roll by until you're dressed a little more properly now, on your path to the turtles' lair in the sewers. As of now, you're (somewhat) rocking some jeans, with an old t-shirt, your commonly-worn shoes, and your hair combed through. Sticking your head through the lair, Mikey spots you straightaway, quickly riding on his skateboard towards you, guarding your own stomach, afraid for impact. Luckily for you (and maybe your fetus), there is no impact. "Yo, Y/N!" He gave you his regular fist pump, "how's it hangin'?" He notices you guarding your stomach, emitting a laugh as he points at you, "What's with the stomach guarding?" You realize your arms protecting your stomach, pulling them away fairly quickly. "Just, uh- Just hungry is all!" Michelangelo eyed you for a second or two before shrugging, picking up his board with a swift kick at its tail, "M'kay! Leo's in his room by the way. Catch you later!" He rode off again, presumably to bother either Raph or Donnie with his "dazzling personality."

Nearing Leonardo's room, you were undecided on the option of telling him about the growing baby inside of you or not. You didn't know. You didn't know what he'd think, what he'd say, how he would react, or if his perspective of you would shift entirely. Every fiber of your being grew anxious, scared to share the news with him. Or not. Leaning against the doorway of his room, he looked up from his katana, a smile gracing his features. "Hey," He stood up from his spot on the bed as you approach him, "Hi." Leonardo glanced down at your shorter human self, grabbing your hands to hold into his abnormally larger ones. "Took you a while to get here." Yeah, it did because you couldn't stop vomiting into the toilet until you got the strength to eventually walk all the way down here. "Sorry, busy," You threw an excuse at him, the leader of the clan nods. "Uh-huh," He takes your hand and leads you to his bed, "you're not overwhelming yourself, are you?" Knowing how concerned he can tend to be, you shakily exhale a little, giving a closed-mouth smile. "No, not really."

"You know ho-" You bit your lower lip, feeling the need to interrupt, "Leo, there's-- there's something I need to tell you." He paused for a little, knowing there was something up, a feeling in his gut. "Well what is it?" You can feel that pit of anxiety start to blossom within you once again, your palms nearly growing sweaty as you try to gather your words. Carefully wanting to break it to him was something you wanted to do, and correctly too. "Y/N?" He sends you a fervent glance, "is something wro-?"

"I'm pregnant."

He's taken aback by the sentence you had just formed, staring at you, with almost little to no emotion being expressed. He's speechless. Out of words, completely. "You're what?! With- With my ba-?" Giving the leader a small, slow nod, it finally makes sense to him. "That's why you missed my call? Y/N, you sh-" You feel tears swell up in your e/c eyes, a hot droplet starting to slide down your left cheek, "I know it's all my fault. I should have asked for an abortion before I left that doctor's office. And you don't want a kid, I can see perfectly see that, and just know that I'm sor-" A warm green hand cups the side of your face, endearing blue eyes look at you and hold your stare as a thumb comes to wipe your new, built-up tears. Tender lips come to kiss your forehead. "I want this. Y/N, please listen to me when I say it'll be alright. I won't let you and the baby down, okay?" Leo's words are kind, softly spoken as he offers you a pursed smile while holding your face in his hand, "You'll be fine."

Your breathing is starting to calm down as you meet his eyes, your hand coming touch his on your cheek. "How far? How far are you, I mean?" Feeling at ease, your eyes are still watery with tears, a smile growing on your lips, "Two weeks." He grows soft at your reply, eyes flickering down towards your stomach. The stomach that held his kid inside of it. "How big are they?" You hold your hand up and leave a little gap between your index finger and your thumb, "Like a little seed." A smile of joy lights up his face before he carefully runs the bottom of your t-shirt up to expose your stomach to him. He pursed his lips together once more, fighting off tears as he gives a breathy laugh. "I love them already." You grin to your significant other, kissing his cheek.

"And we love you too."

#tmnt imagines #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt leo imagine #tmnt 2003 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles imagines #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanart

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scoopsgf · 4 years

Text

can i get a good night’s sleep? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep?!

or: five times peter parker doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

my contribution to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! this is for @snarky-drabbles - I hope you enjoy it!

The first time is actually just the first in a while. Peter’s had problems sleeping ever since he was a little kid; it was just one issue of many that stacked up on top of each other, resulting in his personal belief that he must be the most difficult kid to look after on the planet.

Asthma meant hundreds of dollars spent on inhalers, covering what their shitty insurance didn’t. His poor eyesight was the same story and the bullies that used to break his glasses had never helped. But it wasn’t just physical crap, of course: he’s had anxiety for as long as he can remember.

There are cute side-effects like panic attacks and nausea, not to mention the constant sense of impending doom he’s been nursing since… well, birth, probably. When he was younger he’d worry about whether or not the taxi driver had enough gas in his car to get them where they needed to go, or maybe Ben would get shot at work (ironically enough, he’d never worried that Ben would get shot off-duty, and there is a teeny superstitious sliver of him that believes maybe if he had considered the possibility it never would have happened, like some kind of a reverse jinx or something).

One of the other cute things that comes along with it is insomnia.

So here he is, pacing in his kitchen at three in the morning because May isn’t home yet.

Her shift ended at two. She’s usually back within a half hour considering the hospital isn’t far, hence his agitation.

He’s tried calling and texting to no avail, and he keeps telling himself that everything is fine, that she probably just got held up; meanwhile his subconscious provides a great slideshow of mental images that speak to the opposite—her getting kidnapped because somehow someone links her to Spider-Man, her getting hit with a car, mugged, shot, slipping on black ice—and that’s actually not far-fetched considering it’s January, there’s a lot of it, and so he pulls out his phone and types, You didn’t slip on black ice and die did you? to May.

No little dots appear to signify that she’s typing. The message doesn’t even change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’.

She has her read receipts on. She’s promised him. There’s no reason she’d change that, right? But maybe she accidentally switched them off when she was scrolling through her settings.

He calls her.

“Hi, this is May Parker, I’m unavailable at the moment but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as—”

Peter hangs up with a dissatisfied grunt.

It’s only then that he realises, to his great dismay, that he’s paced all the way onto the ceiling.

In his shock he loses concentration and falls. “Ow, fuck.” He pulls his aching knee to his chest. It’ll no doubt be bruised soon. “God has forsaken me.”

He picks up his now cracked phone and texts Ned:

I just fell off the ceiling at 3 AM in the morning

Don’t ask me what I was doing on it

Every bone in my body is broken :(

No reply comes which is pretty typical; Ned probably passed out in front of his PC like, hours ago. Peter can picture it: the light of his computer screen casting a blue glow over everything in the room, his head probably tucked into his arms to muffle his snores (and there’s also probably a bowl of stale popcorn spilled across his floor at this point), his creepy mother lurking in the doorway—or worse, trying to find out how to snoop through his laptop while he’s out of it.

Peter could totally go swing down there and help the guy out. It would be something to do anyway.

But no. The door is too far. His suit… too much work. It’s definitely better to just stay here curled up under the table like a little turtle.

But wait—a blanket.

Is it worth the effort? Probably. Peter scans his immediate surroundings and, oh boy, Lady Fate is actually on his side tonight because there’s a gigantic purple fluffy one hanging off the couch and it only takes a little bit of physical exertion to yank it down and wrap it around his body.

He burrows deeper into it and scrolls through Instagram. MJ posted a picture of a banana today. Literally like, just a banana. No caption, no explanation on her story, nothing.

Peter double taps it and comments: i hope u asked before u took his jacket

No like. No reply. That makes sense. It is three in the fucking morning, after all.

No. Three thirty. It’s been an hour and a half.

What had May said once? That it was okay to call someone if she was two hours late?

Peter tries texting and calling one more time and then just sits there, staring at his home screen and watching the minutes pass. At exactly four AM after much deliberation and stomach churning, he calls someone else.

Three rings later: “I’m in Vienna right now so this better be good.”

Peter feels even more nauseous than before. “Oh,” he says. “I guess—never mind, then. Sorry.”

“Wait, wait, that was just for show and I’m greatly intrigued as to why you’re calling me so… early? Late? Anyway I’m out of the conference room now so lay it on me.”

Against his will, Peter’s lip quirks up. “Um, it’s kind of stupid—”

“Nothing is ever stupid,” Tony says. “Especially when it’s coming from the brain of a kid with an intelligence quotient of 260.”

He feels his cheeks heat up and then it all just comes tumbling out, “It’s really late and May was supposed to be off at two and home by two-thirty, but she’s not and I don’t know what to do. I tried calling and texting but she’s not replying and I know that I’m probably just building it up in my head but I can’t help freaking out because like, what if she got stabbed or slipped on black ice or—”

“Hey Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Tony’s voice has softened immeasurably. Something uncoils in Peter’s stomach. He flops onto his side and closes his eyes. “I’m breathing.”

“That’s good, kiddo. Now just hang on a sec, I’m gonna call the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“Well she works there, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“And you haven’t tried calling them yet, correct?”

“...Correct.”

“Ergo,” Tony says.

“But I—”

“Yeah?”

Peter bites his lip and then he just blurts it: “I don’t want you to hang up.”

He feels like such a child but the thought of losing connection with Tony is literally making his heart palpitate and his palms sweat. He needs someone. He needs an adult.

“Well lucky for us both I have two phones.”

Peter cracks an eye. “You what?”

“I’m Tony Stark, don’t question it. Hang on, let me just—hello, hi, um, I need this room. No, it can’t wait. Yes the whole room. Yes locked. I don’t know, five minutes? Ten? An hour? No, I’m not joking. Thank you. Thanks. Yeah. Okay. Bye now.” Something slams shut—the door to the office Tony just stole, probably. “Okay, just a sec, I have the number for the reception desk she works at in my phone.”

Peter, for some reason, feels immeasurably comforted by that. He sits in silence gnawing on his lip while Tony has a somewhat muffled conversation he can’t hear the other side of. Then, “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay, well, they said she’s covering for someone and can’t get to the phone because a baby had to have emergency surgery so she’s literally in the OR as we speak. Pretty badass and not bad as far as excuses go. Now that you know she’s fine and not dead by ice, how about you get some shut-eye, okay kid?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tony.”

“No Mr. Stark this time, huh?”

“It’s too late for formalities.”

“I see,” Tony replies. “Sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The line goes dead. Peter, slightly relieved but not fully consoled, rolls over to face the door. He doesn’t sleep at all that night and is still there when May comes home at six in the morning with bagels and apologies.

—

The anniversary of Ben’s death is always super weird.

This time it takes him a few minutes to remember what day it is: he’s in the middle of brushing his teeth and then it hits him like a train: oh, it’s been three years.

Then comes May. She usually tries to cook something for breakfast but like always it burns. He leaves the bathroom to the sound of the smoke alarm and fans a cookie sheet at the screeching little device while she swears up and down in Italian.

“It’s okay, May, really—”

“No, it’s not!” She snaps, tossing a batch of blackened cinnamon rolls into the trash. “I just want this day to be easy for you!”

Peter goes over to her and, after kicking the oven door shut with his foot, pulls her into his arms. May starts to cry even though she tries not to; sniffles turn into barely stifled sobs. He knows that it’s harder for her than it is for him. Ben was her husband and they’d been married for thirteen years when he died. Sometimes he still catches her looking to see if he’s laughing too when they watch TV, only to find an empty recliner.

“It’s okay for it to be a bad day,” he whispers. “You know that, right? I mean, I love you to pieces, May, but I don’t wanna see you bending over backwards for me.”

“But that’s my job, doofus.”

Peter pulls back. He’s an inch taller than her now. “No it’s not. We take care of each other, okay?”

Then comes school. Ned usually hovers nervously like an agitated gnat, too afraid to say anything, not sure if he should act normal or be sad in solidarity, which means it’s kind of Peter’s job to set the tone. As he’s putting his combination in for his locker he asks, “So did you beat that level of Obra Dinn last night?”

Ned, shoulders slumping with relief, starts to ramble on about how hard it was to do and how it took him like, thirty whole tries.

They go to class. Peter zones out. He doesn’t bother making more web fluid or ditching and he gets so inside his own head that Coach Wilson compliments him again during gym class. Peter deliberately slows down after that, even if it’s kind of irritating; being physically active actually helps work off his anger.

Because that’s what he is more than anything else: angry. At the mugger, yeah, but at himself more than anything else. It was his fault that they were out that night, anyway. It’s a wonder that May doesn’t hate his fucking guts.

When school is up Peter comes home to an empty house. He thinks about going on patrol but doesn’t really feel up to it, and then he feels bad for not wanting to do it because like, what if someone is dying?

So he puts on the suit and swings from rooftop to rooftop, but there’s no action today. Peter eventually settles on a fire escape with a burrito. A stray cat hops up after a while and, despite his matted fur and crazy eyes, Peter decides he has a kind of quiet dignity about him and names him Charles.

“Do you like beef?” He asks, holding some out for Charles to sniff. The cat yowls and, without any warning other than that, nearly chomps Peter’s fingers off to get the meat.

“Ow, jeez!” Peter shakes his wrist. “I was literally giving it to you for free, but go off I guess.”

Charles blinks his big brown marble eyes and then literally jumps off the fucking ledge. Peter leans over and watches him scamper across the street, somehow not getting hit by any traffic. Sometimes he thinks his spidey sense is more like feline sense in that way: he could probably manage the same thing with his eyes closed.

After a while the sun sets and all of the streetlights turn on. Peter does another patrol around the immediate vicinity but again, nothing. He stays out anyway though because he’d rather do his Chemistry homework behind a dumpster than sit alone in the apartment with nothing but the quiet for company. At least out and about there are sewer rats and mangy dogs and shady characters who actually just turn out to be skateboarders.

Peter is almost done with his assignment when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He looks up and finds Iron Man himself coming in for a landing. The suit drops with a barely audible clunk; it’s Mark 54, the sleekest and most lightweight model yet.

“Oh thank God,” says Tony’s voice, “you’re not dead.”

Peter frowns even though Tony can’t see it. “No,” he agrees slowly. “Why would I be dead? What are you doing here?”

“Well, your aunt called me in a panic at around four when she got home and you weren’t there, and then I checked the scanners and saw that you’d been here, completely stationary, for like five whole hours—needless to say I had a little bit of a heart attack and here I am, relieved and also mildly infuriated. Care to explain, young padawan?”

Peter opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Opens it again and, “It’s four AM?”

“Four fifteen,” Tony corrects.

“I didn’t even—I didn’t know! Shit, May’s totally gonna kill me, I might as well be dead—”

“Woah woah woah,” the faceplate lifts, “calm down, okay? No one is mad. Just, uh, concerned, I promise.”

Peter is still frantically packing up his school supplies and not really listening. He only stops when Tony gently touches him by lightly gripping his elbow. “Kid?”

Peter stares down at the older man’s hand. Behind the mask his eyes start to burn. “Ben died.”

“Pardon?”

“Ben died,” he repeats louder. “In this alley. Two years ago.”

All at once Tony’s face falls. He moves to sit by Peter on the grimy floor of the alley while the suit hovers nearby, a hollow shell, just the way Peter feels now.

“Kid,” Tony says, “take off the mask.”

“What? No, I’m in public—”

“No one’s around,” Tony says. “Just take it off, okay?”

Peter does, reluctantly peeling it back to reveal his tear-stained cheeks. Tony stares for a second and then, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Peter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I—” he chokes. “I’m just so tired. I’m tired of having to watch May be strong for me when I can’t be strong back, and I’m tired of Ben not being around. I miss him and it—it’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not. It’s never fair. That’s why it hurts, kiddo. You’ve got all this love and no place to put it.”

Peter bites his lip to stop it from quivering and looks away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I just feel pathetic.”

“Don’t,” Tony says firmly. “I felt the same way after my mom died and it… In some ways I don’t think the feeling ever actually went away, but uh, take it from someone who’s had a lot more time to process: no one is expecting anything from you, okay? And I can guarantee there’s not a single human that thinks two years is long enough to be perfectly fine again. You’re allowed to still be upset about this.”

And Peter is. He’s really, really fucking upset about it and so tired of holding it in. Tony pulls him against his chest when Peter starts to cry and it sort of seems like he’ll never be able to stop. There’s just so much, so much guilt and pain and all kinds of other bullshit that he refuses to lay on May.

So he lays it on Tony. And it’s surprisingly not horrible or awkward or even the end of the world.

“You good?” the older man asks, when Peter finally sobers up enough to wipe his cheeks dry and take a few steadying breaths.

“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged and awful-sounding. “Um, sorry. For freaking you and May out and ruining your shirt, I mean.”

“You know there’s this really snazzy invention called a washing machine—”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Tony laughs and it makes Peter laugh too, and the tension between them just sort of dissipates. “Speaking of clothes,” Tony claps his hands together, “you got any to wear in that backpack?”

“Uh, jeans and a hoodie?”

“Fantastic, incredible. Throw them on, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“But what if someone sees?!”

“Let ’em. I’ll have Pep release a statement claiming you as my personal assistant or head intern or something.”

“That’s totally unrealistic.”

“Do I care? No. Just—okay? Up and at ’em, make haste, come on. What do you feel like, pancakes or waffles?”

They bicker about which is better the entire way to the little diner Tony choses, and Peter comes home full an hour later. May is fast asleep at the kitchen table. He kisses her forehead and starts on breakfast for her.

—

He’s thirty minutes into helping MJ study for her AP French test when she finally gets a question wrong. “‘Il n'est pas clair que’?” Peter queries, holding up the flash card.

“‘It’s not certain that’?”

He makes a pitying noise. “Close. ‘It’s not clear that’.”

“What’s not clear, exactly? That if I see one more word in French I’m gonna blow my brains out?”

Peter snorts. “No, actually it says more clarification is required on how much you like your boyfriend. Suggestions to improve that include: a hug, a kiss, both—”

“Neither?”

He pouts. “Mean.”

MJ rolls her eyes, but she kisses him first. She tastes like the Twizzlers they’ve been eating and her hands are in his hair and she laughs when he presses his lips to her cheeks and nose and forehead.

They somehow end up in an incredibly compromising position. “You know,” MJ muses, “I don’t think I’ve been studying the right kind of French.”

Peter, hovering over her (oops), nods in agreement. “This kind is definitely way better.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and he’s so consumed with this: her and him and the smell of her jasmine shampoo—that he almost doesn’t hear it.

Almost.

Peter rips away abruptly. “What was that?”

She groans. “God, you’re such a dog sometimes.”

He ignores her, sitting alert with his eyes narrowed at the window and, sure enough, there it is again: a faint, blood-curdling scream. “Someone’s being attacked or something. Maybe four blocks away tops.”

MJ squints. “Don’t tell me you can echolocate.”

“I—” Peter’s mouth snaps shut and then opens again. “I actually don’t know. Anyway, I gotta go.”

He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, throws on his jacket, and quickly ducks out her fire escape (which happens to be the same way that he came in). He slips the mask on and tosses his hood up; it’s raining in heavy, icy sheets and Peter is drenched within seconds of swinging. He remembers the first time he’d gone out during a storm; the webbing he’d made hadn’t held up because the chemical formula hadn’t accounted for the massive amounts of water-based reaction, so the biocables had evaporated as they left his shooters. Thankfully he hadn’t jumped first that day, otherwise he would be a Peter Pancake.

Another scream sounds. Peter follows it and winds up latched onto the side of a two-story brick building. There’s an incredibly dark alley below, but a quick flash of lightning tells him everything he needs to know: one man is trying to wrestle a woman down, while another is rifling through her purse. He’s also holding a gun.

“Oh, cute,” he mutters sarcastically.

Peter tries to time it right: he takes aim and shoots a web right at the weapon with the next bout of lightning, but to his immense misfortune, the armed mugger had already seen him and was aiming right back. The bullet hits Peter in the side.

“Ow,” he says, “that was uncalled for.”

He drops. His side is throbbing and hot but he ignores it in favour of disarming the guy who shot him. It’s a brief struggle but Peter ends up whacking the gun out of his hand and webbing it to the wall opposite. Then he knocks the guy out with a solid upper cross to the temple.

Peter rounds. The assailant has already fled, leaving the woman shivering but relatively unharmed.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asks.

“Me? That guy shot you!”

Peter looks down at his side which is now stained with blood. “Oh, yeah.”

He’d actually forgotten for half a second. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s starting to really feel it: a burning sensation in his abdomen, an aching that pulses from his stomach to his chest. Ah. Wonderful.

A little dazed, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Super healing. Are you good? You need me to call you a cab?”

“What? No, um—the police station is like, down the block, I can go get them.”

“Are you sure? Because I can totally do that—”

“I can handle myself,” she says sharply, bending down to pick up her purse and the discarded items within. “It’s just… there were two of them and there was a gun and—”

“I get it,” Peter says, his hand pressing harder into his side as the world grows blurrier around the edges. “You really don’t want me to at least walk you down?”

“I’ll take a taxi,” she says. “You just, um, get yourself fixed up, okay? And thanks.”

“Yeah, sure, anytime! But, y’know, preferably never again,” Peter says, and proceeds to swing away.

—

Tony doesn’t expect to get woken up at two AM after only just falling asleep five minutes before, but such is life; FRIDAY’s voice bleeds through the speakers above to inform him that Spider-Man is currently rifling through the Med-Bay and bleeding from a wound on his side.

Pepper looks at him. “You heard that too, right? That was real?”

“It was real.”

They both scramble out of bed. Tony takes the lead, throwing on his jacket as he runs toward the elevator. It’s times like these when every second stretches out into an eternity; it takes maybe five of them to get from their floor to the Med-Bay, but it feels like forever.

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

“I know, right?” Peter glances up. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Peter,” she returns. “Do you mind if I wash my hands and take a look at that?”

“If you want. It’s kinda gross, though.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”

Through this exchange Tony was already washing up, and now he dons a pair of gloves and sits on the rolling stool. “Looks like it’s through and through,” he tells Pep over his shoulder. “Could you grab a couple suture kits and, uh, the stuff?”

Pepper makes a face. “The stuff?”

“You know,” Tony says, “The Good Stuff.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, that stuff.”

Tony feels around the area. “Do you know what kind of gun was used?”

“Looked like your standard nine mil,” Peter replies. His voice is growing a little slurred.

That’s good though, about the gun. Means there’s probably not any bullet fragments to worry about. Tony grabs a load of gauze and presses it against the wound. He checks Peter’s pulse while he’s at it and finds that it’s slowed considerably. “We’re gonna have to get you some blood, too. A neg, right?”

“Yuppers.”

Tony excuses that because after all, the kid is bleeding out on a table. Said kid actually starts to swing his legs back and forth and, yeah, that’s not gonna fly. “Do me a favour and lay back? I’m gonna put this towel right under you for now.”

Peter doesn’t have any arguments, or if he does, he doesn’t vocalise them. Pepper comes back in with the kits and drugs and, because she’s just smarter than him like that, bags of blood.

Tony grabs the vials first and loads up a syringe. Peter is pretty numb to all of it until the needle goes in. Then he frowns. “Why are you injecting me with alien blood?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not alien blood, it’s a pain killer. A serious one at that, so you’re probably gonna feel a little out of it for a while, okay?”

Peter frowns. “Is it for Steve?”

Tony tenses, but it’s only for a second. “Yes,” he says, somewhat tightly.

“Ugh. What a turd, Mr. Stark. You’re giving me turd vitamins!” Tony scoffs while Pepper laughs. Peter notices. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re not helping me here,” Tony says to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, have some thread.”

Tony sighs. “Just stay still for me, okay?”

Peter does. Pepper passes him various supplies and they work together to sew up both ends of the gunshot wound. By the time they’re done, Peter hasn’t moved once, but his eyes are open and he’s frowning.

“How do you feel?”

“Wired,” he says.

“Seriously? Bruce never said anything about the side-effects, but I figured they’d be like normal pain-killers; make you drowsy and all that.”

“No,” Peter sits up quickly and doesn’t even flinch. “I feel like I just got steroids or something. Are you—are you actually telling me that Captain America’s drugs are infused with a stimulant? What, so he can keep fighting even when he’s in the middle of dying?”

Tony blinks. “Well that was smart of dear Banner.”

“Yeah, or insane.” Peter flexes his hands. “I feel like I need to go for a run, or like, break something.”

“Let’s avoid that,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “You need to heal, not mess yourself up even more, understood?”

Peter stares. “Is it normal to see sounds?”

Pepper bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” she says when Tony glares. “Really, I am, I promise. Peter, honey, how about we get you to a bedroom where you can rest up? We’ll call your aunt and explain everything.”

—

Everything is going fine until May asks, “How did you get to the Tower so quick, then?”

Peter blinks. “Hmm? Pardon?”

“If you were at Ned’s,” May says, “how’d you manage to swing all the way across town?”

Peter opens his mouth and closes it. “I, uh… well, funny story, um… I wasn’t actually at Ned’s?”

There’s a pause over the phone. Pepper, who’s holding it, raises an eyebrow. May says: “You told me you were going to Ned’s, Peter.”

His face feels hot. He hopes it isn’t red. Both Pepper and Tony—from the doorway with his hands stuffed in his sweatpant pockets—are staring. It’s almost as bad as if May were really here.

“Well I was going to Ned’s, but then I changed my mind and went somewhere else and oh—look at the time! I think we’re going through a tunnel—”

“Don’t even try to pull that crap! That’s it, I’m coming over there—”

“May,” Peter says, serious now, “you’re in the middle of a shift, there’s people dying. Just—I’m perfectly fine, I took my Captain America drugs and everything is gonna be okay.”

“But you lied to me.”

“No, I changed my mind.”

“And went where?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Peter.”

“May.”

She groans from the other end of the line and demands to speak to Pepper one on one. Tony’s fiancé grins and switches off speaker, before slipping out with a bright laugh to finish off the conversation. Tony stares expectantly. “So where were you?”

“Oh my god, not you too. You know, on second thought, I actually am completely exhausted and—”

“Uh, nope,” Tony flops down onto the bed. “Fess up.”

Peter sighs. He squirms down and covers his pillow with a head. “No.”

Tony joins him under it. “Tell me.”

Peter scowls. He rolls onto his side so they’re facing one another. “I was with my girlfriend.”

“Oooo—”

“Shush! It’s… it’s really not a big deal and I haven’t told May yet because MJ and I haven’t even really talked about it and it all happened super fast and—” he remembers to breathe, “I just… I always tell May everything, you know? But I kind of just felt like… this was something I had to figure out first on my own. Maybe it’s stupid, but I know she’s gonna be super hurt when she finds out it’s been a month and I haven’t said anything—”

“Kid,” Tony cuts in. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Peter promises, because he is. He’s also just incredibly hyper and stressed.

“It’s a normal instinct to want to figure things out and define them before you start announcing them to the world. I get that. But you’re still a kid, Pete, and even if you don’t want people prying into your love life, we still need to know where you are in case something goes wrong.”

Peter harrumphs as he turns away. “There’s a tracker on my phone and my suit. It would be easier to find me than anything else.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “You got a point there.”

“I just wanted time.”

“I know.”

“But I really like her, okay? Like she’s so smart and she’s got this really dark sense of humour and she’s actually kind of terrifying sometimes—”

“Oh, the scary ones are always fun.”

They stay up talking through the night and, when the sun comes up, Pepper joins them with a tray of freshly made blueberry waffles. May arrives around the same time and, looking too tired to be mad, simply drops onto the bed with them and steals what’s left of his food.

—

Peter is on patrol when he hears it:

a soft, quiet yelping coming from somewhere down below the rooftop he’s perched on.

At first he figures he’s imagining things, but then his ears perk again. He leans over the building’s edge to find the source of the noise.

In the dark it’s hard to make anything out, so he climbs slowly down the side of the wall, squinting. There’s another yelp and a low whine, almost pained. Peter zeroes in on the sound and creeps toward a set of dumpsters; they’re so full of trash they’re overflowing, and it’s underneath a broken down cardboard box that he finds it...

A puppy.

Now, Peter is no liar. He’s wanted a dog since he was like, a fetus. The words ‘A dog’ have been on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as he can remember. It’s only recently, in the years since Ben’s death, that he’s pretty much given up—after all, May is so overworked and they can barely afford to feed themselves. How could they afford a pet?

But also…

This is the cutest dog he’s ever seen.

It’s tiny and fluffy and brown and has the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen.

Peter kind of just stands there staring like an idiot for a good few seconds and then slowly kneels down. “Um, hi,” he says, in the gentlest voice he can manage. The puppy, who can’t be older than a few weeks and looks completely starved and exhausted, whines in response.

Peter holds out his hand for the dog to sniff. It lifts its head lazily and leans forward, nose twitching and dry. “You need water, huh? Come on, I know a place.”

—

“Shelob,” Tony greets without looking up from whatever project he’s working on. “What can I do for you at… one in the fucking morning?”

“I need your help with something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad or make me get rid of him—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done now?”

“He was just so helpless and cold and small and…” Peter swallows and reveals the puppy, presently wrapped up in his hoodie. “Meet Nugget.”

Tony’s face is the epitome of Disappointed Dad. He stares, open-mouthed, and after a second his shoulders fall. “Well, fuck.”

Peter snuggles Nugget against his chest and steps closer, but then Tony holds up a hand to stop him. “Nah-ah! Not until that thing gets a flea bath!”

Hope sparks in Peter’s chest. “You mean we can keep him?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m getting near him until I know I won’t break out in hives.”

“That’s not how fleas work.”

“Do I care? No. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”

—

“Why do you have flea shampoo?”

Peter’s inquiry is made tentatively. They both have their hands in the sud-filled sink as they systematically wash Nugget’s fur.

“There was… an incident a while ago. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Peter stares. Blinks. “Okay. Well, I think he’s clean.”

Nugget barks as if in agreement, and so Peter and Tony lift him out of the basin and set him on a pile of no doubt expensive, fluffy white towels. Tony takes the lead after that. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with the yapping, impatient puppy—even when Nugget tries to claw at him and shake himself dry, Tony never loses his cool.

A few minutes later they’re sitting on their stomachs watching Nugget stomp around on a blanket. There’s water in a bowl for him at one corner and a plate of chopped up chicken at another.

“I can’t take him home,” Peter says morosely after a few minutes. “May won’t let me keep him.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Where does she even think you are right now?”

“...In my bed.”

“Wow,” Tony says, deadpan. “Okay, well, I most certainly can’t keep him either.”

“What?! Why not?!”

Tony sighs. “I’m Iron Man, if you hadn’t noticed, kiddo—”

“Oh, what, so you’re too tough to look after him?”

“No, I’m too busy. I spend like, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours in a day in my shop and the rest of the time I’m on my knees apologising to Pepper and begging for forgiveness. There’s no time in-between to feed the pup, walk the pup—”

“I could come by,” Peter blurts. “Like, once a day, and I could make sure he’s eaten and play with him and stuff. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger—”

“Except to press ‘purchase’ on my shopping cart full of dog food—”

“Tony,” Peter cuts in, pleading, “please? I can’t just drop him off at some kennel so they can—” he covers the dog’s ears, “so they can euthanize him in a week when no one buys him. He deserves so much better, you know?”

Tony frowns, considering it, and Peter waits with his breath caught in his throat until, “God, fine.”

“Yes!”

“But! But! A pet is a serious responsibility, okay? You might as well be adopting a child—”

“What would you know about raising kids?” Peter asks, only jokingly, but Tony just stares and then, for some reason, smiles.

“You have to make sure he’s happy,” Tony says. “You have to be there for him in whatever way he needs, alright? I’ll set up a pen in the penthouse and you can make sure he works off his energy there, and if I have time I’ll even take you both to the park. And if he ever happens to pee on my carpet, I’m counting on you to clean it up.”

“Don’t you have, like, housekeepers for that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but this is character building stuff.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean up the pee.”

They continue to iron out the details for a while and bicker over whether Nugget’s last name should be Parker or Stark, and it’s only when Pepper walks in—still in her pajamas, bleary eyed and complaining that they woke her up—that they both decide it should be ‘Potts’.

—

5. (+1)

It starts with a headache.

He’s bent over his desk studying for a Calc test when the throbbing begins. It’s not so bad at first, but after a half hour or so his vision is swimming and he keeps having to take breaks to massage his temples and close his eyes. The equations are all blending together and he can’t think straight anymore.

Peter decides to give up right around then. After all, if he’s not gonna retain any of the information, why bother?

May pokes and prods through dinner. Peter tries to fool her by acting like everything is normal and okay and even manages to make her laugh once or twice.

Inside, dread is coiling through his stomach like an irritated snake. He knows what’s coming next; after all, he doesn’t really get sick anymore, so what else could it be?

Peter tries to sleep but ends up tossing and turning for most of the night. He falls into some kind of half-conscious daze at around four in the morning and rouses about twenty minutes later, soaked with sweat and aching everywhere.

Feeling like he’s gonna vomit, Peter kicks off his blankets and strips the sheets off his bed. He takes his shirt off because the fabric is too abrasive against his skin and it’s like he can feel every fibre tickling against it, grating and chafing. He curls up into a tight ball and covers his ears with his hands to block out the now amplified sounds of the city: car alarms, dogs barking, music playing.

Normally Peter loves the way New York is never silent. Now, he just wishes everyone would shut the fuck up for once.

When he stumbles out of his room a little while later, May is already gone. She’d told him the night before that she had an early shift and for once he’s actually grateful. Haltingly, Peter gets ready for school. He’s already skipped three days this month and if he misses this Calc quiz he’s gonna fucking bomb the class.

May would kill him.

It’s better to suffer a little than die.

Brushing his teeth makes his head spin and the minute he wriggles into his clothes he feels like a caged animal about to claw his skin off. Everything takes so much longer than normal. He doesn’t eat because the mere thought of food makes the back of his throat sting with bile.

On the train, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass of the window, trying to tune out the constant screeching of the rails. One day, on God, he will make it a personal project to oil every fucking line in the subway.

At his fifth stop, an old lady boards and all the seats are taken.

Peter swallows thickly and stands. Black spots dance in his vision and he grabs onto the overhead bar—something he hasn’t actually needed to use since he was a little kid—and tries not to pass out.

He almost misses the stop to get to school, but slips out at the last second, millimetres away from getting his backpack caught in the doors. Peter is hot all over and lightheaded as he makes his way out of the station. It’s even hotter up above, what with summer coming now and all.

Peter is late and he doesn’t need his watch to tell; Flash’s car is already parked out front instead of zooming through the drop off to run him over (which, hey, silver lining), and the majority of the student body is already inside.

Peter has to stop multiple times on his way to Spanish just to breathe. By the time he gets there he’s at least ten minutes late for roll call.

“Mr. Parker,” his teacher greets, unimpressed. “So glad you could join us.”

Peter makes a noise and takes the proffered quiz. He wonders absently why some people choose to teach. What is it, like, some kind of power trip for them?

He has five minutes to finish the quiz but doesn’t make it past the first question. Ned volunteers to collect them and stops at Peter’s desk while Professor Scott outlines today’s lesson plan.

“Dude,” he whisper-hisses, “you look like complete shit. What on Earth are you doing here right now?”

“Test,” Peter mutters dully, resting his cheek on his hand and closing his eyes. “Here you go. Didn’t finish it.”

Ned takes it carefully, holding it with two fingers like it’s covered in disease. “Do you want me to get the nurse or something?”

Peter hums. “No. Just… headache.”

Slowly Ned backs away. “Um—”

“Mr. Leeds!” Professor Scott says, loudly. Ned jumps. “Is there a problem back there?”

Yes, Peter thinks. You’re the human version of nails on a fucking chalk board. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just start on the vocab.

Only he accidentally says all of that out loud.

The whole class is staring. Flash is slack-jawed. Betty Brant’s eyes are the size of small moons.

“Parker,” Scott grits out—and Peter has denominated him to just Scott now out of reciprocation and spite; “You just earned yourself a shiny new detention. I’d like you to take this slip to the principal’s office. Please.”

Oh, thank God. At least it’ll be quiet there.

Peter stands and brushes past Ned and it literally feels like flames of hell are licking against his skin. He almost vomits. This is decidedly not good.

He takes the paper. “Gladly, good sir.”

When he’s gone, there’s an outburst of muttering that his enhancements let him hear. It only makes the overload worse. Peter covers his ears with his hands again and, overcome with a sudden wave of vertigo, ducks into the bathroom.

He barely makes it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of last night’s food.

Peter sags against the wall, panting. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for the world to stop spinning. About ten minutes later, the smell of jasmine shampoo—normally welcome—causes him to lean over and retch again.

MJ pokes her head inside the unlocked stall. “Jesus,” she whispers. The second her hands touch his body he flinches and she immediately retracts them. “Fuck, sorry. Ned said you wigged out in Spanish. I looked for you in the Principal's office but you weren’t there and... What’s—what’s wrong? I thought you couldn’t even get sick.”

“Bad headache,” he mutters, spitting into the toilet. It’s easier than explaining about his freakish mutations and how they sometimes go completely haywire, leaving him on edge and nauseous and irritable.

MJ grabs him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth with. “Did you take anything?”

“Pain meds don’t work on me.”

“Does May know? You should have called in.”

“Couldn’t. Can’t miss my test.”

She sighs. “Your final is like fifty percent of your grade and you could pass it with your eyes closed. You can miss your test, you’re just afraid of getting anything lower than an A.”

Peter is silent. “You got me there.”

MJ’s hand twitches like she wants to touch him but knows she can’t. “You need to go home. Lie down, get some rest.”

“May is working,” Peter says, “and if I have to take the subway again right now I’ll die. I really will. It’s so—the smell and the noise and I can’t sit down and—”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Just give it.”

She’s holding her hand out for it and giving him a no-nonsense expression that kind of reminds Peter of Pepper Potts on a rampage. He’s seen what happens to Tony when he crosses her, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.

“Hold on.”

She stands and leaves. Peter closes his eyes again. He tunes out her conversation because if he doesn’t, he’s absolutely gonna vomit again and nobody wants that.

MJ slips back inside the stall. “Okay, solved. Do you still feel like you’re gonna vomit?”

Peter thinks about it. “No.”

“Good. We’re gonna go to the nurse, okay?”

“Oh boy.”

—

Tony Stark walks into Peter’s school and finds the hallways empty. The classroom doors are shut and the muted sounds of teachers lecturing are the only signs that anyone is here at all.

He finds Peter in the infirmary, sitting on the examination table with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

He’s at his side in an instant. “Kid?”

It’s surprise that gets Peter’s eyes open, but the little spider baby immediately regrets it. He flinches and sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony,” he whispers, like the name is all he can manage and the questions will have to wait for later.

Tony looks him over. There are no obvious injuries. The girl on the phone had said it was just a headache, but Tony is way more experienced with Peter’s brand of bullshit and knows there’s usually something else going on beneath the surface.

“I’m gonna go talk to the nurse and then get you out of here, okay?”

A nod.

It’s always a bad thing when he doesn’t argue. Peter Parker would start a fight about what kind of pizza to order, even if you suggest the kind he really wants, just to be a stubborn little shit about things.

Tony slips out of the exam room. The nurse looks up when he enters her office. “Oh my—Mr. Stark?!”

“Yes, hello,” Tony takes a cautious step forward as she stands. He doesn’t bother to sit. “I’m here to pick up the little gremlin in there.”

Her face flushes. “I didn’t know you’d been called, I—I figured I would just let him wait it out, you know? He didn’t want to be touched, so it was hard to figure out what was up and—so it’s real? About the internship?”

“Of course. Why would he lie?”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. “Well… you know how kids can be.”

“Do I?”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

Tony sighs. “Look, Nurse—uh, Timms—Nurse Timms, can I please just sign the kid out and take him home? He’s clearly in pain here.”

She starts rifling through her desk for a form. “I mean, I can admit you to take him home, but I really suggest you talk with the principal first—Peter was given a detention before he was brought to my ward, see, and I was—” she shakes her head. “I thought he might be faking.”

Tony stares without blinking for a whole five seconds and then, “Detention? For what?”

“I heard he bad-mouthed a teacher or something. But to be fair, Professor Scott isn’t exactly what I’d call patient.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Tony takes the form she hands him to sign, “my kid doesn’t fake. He has a condition, see. Gets uh… overloaded. Sounds, smells, it can be too much for him. Probably why he snapped.”

“That… that makes sense.”

“Yes,” he says succinctly, and hands the paper back. “You’d know that if you bothered to ask. Anyway, I’ll be going. Thanks for the help, Nurse Times.”

“Uh, it’s—it’s Timms—”

The door shuts behind him.

—

MJ was forced to go back to class. She’d argued and protested but Nurse Timms was insistent. So, MJ had relented. She’d pressed the lightest of kisses on his forehead and it surprisingly hadn’t felt that bad, and then she’d gone.

Tony Stark had shown up about twenty minutes later and it’s just when Peter’s starting to think it was all just a vivid hallucination that the smell of coffee and motor oil fills his senses again. It’s overwhelming but not debilitating.

“Kiddo,” Tony whispers, “is it okay to touch you?”

Peter cracks an eye. Everything is bright but Tony’s suit is mercifully black, so he focuses on that. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna move.”

“Well I gotta get you outta here somehow.”

“But my detention—”

“I already got you out of it,” Tony says breezily. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Tony,” Peter says, cheeks flushing. “You can’t just bribe my principal into—”

“I didn’t bribe anyone. I just explained the situation and besides, Morita’s an old friend.”

Peter closes his eyes again as he frowns. “You’re friends with my principal?”

“I’m a benefactor for your school, too,” Tony says. “But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”

Something shifts in the air. Tony is sitting now. “Happy’s waiting outside,” he says, “but whenever you’re ready.”

Peter thinks about it for a few seconds and decides it’s gonna have to happen at some point, anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off now. Slowly he takes a deep breath and manages to sit up with Tony’s help. The older man tries to avoid touching him as much as possible, but surprisingly enough the weight of his hand against Peter’s spine isn’t crushing or aggravating. It doesn’t hurt.

“Baby steps,” Tony says softly. “We’ll take you out the side door, okay?”

Even getting to the door is slow going but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. Right before they open it, Tony stops and pulls his sunglasses off. “Here, try these.”

Peter puts them on. He feels ridiculous because like, they work on Tony who was literally born in the seventies, but Peter really doesn’t dig the groovy shades. Regardless they’re better than nothing and even help a little.

The halls are empty again. Most of the students will be in the gym right about now, or the cafeteria for lunch. They don’t run into anybody on the way out and as soon as they’re in the back of the car, Peter sags against Tony’s side. He feels like he’s just run ten miles.

“Drive, Hogan,” Tony says, and then the partition glides up.

For a few seconds it’s almost completely quiet. Noise suppression tech, Peter realises, and he feels like he could cry from relief. For the first time in hours there’s just… nothing. No traffic, no dozens of students talking at once. The air conditioning unit is filtered, so he’s not being attacked with the smell of body odour and clashing perfume scents and Axe cologne. There’s just Tony and beautiful, amazing, showstopping silence.

Tony shifts a little. “Better?”

Peter nods, figuring it’s still probably not safe to speak.

“We’ll be there soon,” Tony says softly.

—

Peter doesn’t remember much after the car ride. He can vaguely recall protesting getting out of the Audi, and he remembers Tony assuring him that everything would be okay, and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back in an utterly dark bedroom. The walls are insulated just like the car had been, so there’s just no sound, and the bed sheets probably have the highest thread count of all time.

Something shifts beside Peter and he realises Tony is there, feeling his forehead.

“What—?”

“Oh, hey,” Tony greets. “I think you might’ve blacked out there. All the noise hit you at once when we got out of the car and you just…”

“I fainted?”

Tony snorts softly. “Relax. It happens to the best of us. How do you feel, Webster?”

Peter hums. “Bad.”

“Let’s try a scale of one to ten.”

“Okay,” Peter says. “Ten.” Tony lets out a little grunt at that and so Peter elaborates, “It was at like, a twenty this morning, so.”

“Ah, I see.” Tony’s grip shifts to Peter’s wrist to measure his pulse. “This okay?”

“It’s fine.”

And it really is. He doesn’t feel like burning his skin off or anything. Tony’s hands are just warm.

“Any idea what brought this on?”

Peter shifts a little. “I uh… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.” He swallows. “Like, at all.”

“And how long��s that been going on for?”

“I don’t know. On and off for a few weeks, I guess.”

“Jesus,” Tony sighs and pulls his hand away. He rakes it through his hair. “Kiddo, what have we said about communication? Does May know?”

“....No?”

There’s a long pause where Tony just kind of sits there thinking, like he wants to say whatever comes next carefully. He massages his temples and then: “Alright, scooch over.”

“What?”

“Make room for me.”

Peter blinks and then, tentatively, scoots over a little to allow Tony room to lie down. The older man does, arching his back a little and grunting in pain because he’s like, ancient. They’re not touching, but very slowly Peter starts inching closer again. Eventually he works up the courage to try resting his head on Tony’s chest, which is terrifying not only because it’s Tony Stark, but also because he’d rather not have his brain implode.

Nothing happens. “Your fabric softener must be like, super expensive,” he whispers, because this is actually better than the sheets.

Tony snorts. “I’ll ask Pep about it.”

Peter makes a noncommittal noise and before he knows it, his eyes are closing. For once they actually feel heavy, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s heart beat is soothing, dependable.

Tony’s hands brush lightly over Peter’s hair and then thread through it. “Too much?”

“No,” Peter promises. “Good.”

And so Tony’s fingers run through his curls over and over, gently, lightly. His thumb sweeps over Peter’s cheek once, too, and then he starts muttering in Italian.

Peter cracks an eye. “Are you telling me your grocery shopping list?”

Tony laughs a little. “My mom used to do it for me,” he says. “Something about just hearing her speak the language made me feel… relaxed, I guess. Didn’t matter what she was saying.”

Peter smiles and wraps an arm around Tony’s torso. “Tell me something else.”

“You wanna hear about the time I almost blew up a Chem lab?”

“Uh, duh.”

So Tony launches into it, speaking in a low voice and absently twisting one of Peter’s curls around his finger. It feels nice and the headache is fading fast.

Peter sleeps.

#marvel #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #my writing #friendly neighborhood fic exchange #may parker #pepper potts #michelle jones #spideychelle #pepperony #nugget the dog #insomnia

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Curse of the Clan part 59! @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid

There Michelangelo stood before Krang, the giant blob of a being rearing up with help of the wires that supported his gelatinous flesh as it spilled over in thick folds. Michelangelo stepped as far away from the alien as he could, ruby eyes locked on the yokai and trying his best not to let fear shine in them. But Krang knew better; he knew Michelangelo was afraid. He could taste it. Immediately he started to poke and prod into Michelangelo’s mind, just as he had with Donatello during their lovely stay in the forest.

Michelangelo whined and clutched at his head when a sensation not unlike a needle pierced through it. His legs lost sensation, and his thoughts were scattered like leaves on the wind. His heartbeat was like the drums of war pounding inside of him but that wasn’t the only thing that drowned his senses because there was something else, something evil, something poking around in his head that shouldn’t have been! The feeling was anything but pleasant, but no matter how much Michelangelo squeezed his head to try and force it out, it wouldn’t go away.

The voice was inside the cavern of his skull, vibrating along his brain and making his entire body shake and his vision go dark.

“You’re more resistant than the purple one…” The voice inside Michelangelo’s head said, and there came a cold tingle up Michelangelo’s arm that settled around his throat like a noose. “I wonder if you’ll last as long as he did…”

“You… hurt… my… brother…” The words were hard to force out, as heavy on his tongue as a ten pound weight, but he refused to let them stay.

“And it was fun.” The voice was in his left ear, and then his right. “And it was easy. Because he was soft…”

“You take that BACK!” With Michelangelo’s defiant roar and a swipe of his flaming kusari, the cold force prodding him was knocked back.

Krang was slammed back into his body with a furious snarl, a scowl creeping over his features as he rubbed his head with a fore-tentacle. Michelangelo’s aura was strong, a truthful passion powerful enough to form a force field around the box turtle. Krang laughed.

“Donnie is just as strong as I am!” Michelangelo growled, his eyes glowing gems.

The darkness closed in again, and this time Krang was braced for the power that the orange turtle radiated, and he was able to penetrate it. His grip on Michelangelo’s psyche tightened, and bit by bit he pulled out everything he needed and weaved it to fit his own desire.

Michelangelo and Leonardo were back in that supermarket, running from the Gumbus as it chased them down the aisles. They were seperated from April and they were alone, well alone together at least, and they needed to hide. They spotted a place, and they both dived for it, but… Michelangelo didn't make it.

No, that wasn’t right. Leonardo had grabbed him and pulled him into shelter! Michelangelo was sure he had! Why was he thinking of this anyway? It wasn’t unlike him to blank out, drawn into the spiraling colors of his own mind, but this time it seemed far more misplaced than usual, and the memory was wrong! Why was it wrong? No no no, Leonardo had helped him, not left him to the beast—

Michelangelo fell to his knees as another nightmare forced its way to the front of his mind. Him and Donatello, together behind the bushes watching Todd’s RV before they knew the friendly capybara. Whispering to each other. Todd sneaking up behind them and scaring them near out of their shells, and what Michelangelo should have remembered was both him and Donatello scattering, but what came forth through like a crudely patched pair of jeans was Donatello shoving his little brother to the ground and leaving him there for the apparent ‘Spine Breaking Bandit’ to seize.

“Your mind is strong…” Krang’s voice came with a rush of nausea, “I wonder: Is your body the same?”

Michelangelo throwing a boat, using all the power he could summon. His brothers should have praised him, but instead came their vicious scolds and hurtful words and the insults made Michelangelo drop the boat and—

“Is your love for your brothers…?”

Michelangelo wanted to go on his first solo mission. Instead of supporting him, all three of his brothers surrounded him like cruel silhouettes, laughing and pointing and mocking the bravery that tried to shine. Their words and faces twisted with hatred spiraled in Michelangelo’s mind and let nothing else through.

“...too little…”

“...too weak…”

“...too dumb…”

“...all heart…”

“...no brain…”

“You need to grow up.” The voices of all three brothers melted into one. Michelangelo was crying. His brothers wouldn’t say that, his brothers wouldn’t be mean, his brothers loved him

“Or your father?” Krang taunted further. “Would you still love him…?”

Now this was a memory Michelangelo couldn’t recall. It was a place he knew, Draxum’s lab, but it wasn’t the way it was when he had briefly saw it years ago. It was different, older yet newer at the same time. Shiny and alive and now dancing with fire that swallowed everything in his path. He was helpless, the smoke choking and burning his senses. And he saw someone there, his father Lou Jitsu, grabbing items from Draxum’s shelves and tossing them into the flames to ensure their destruction. Michelangelo started to cry; he was a baby, what else could he have done? He reached out for the man and for a moment Lou Jitsu had looked his way, the eyes soft and kind as Michelangelo knew them to be. Then came the veil of hatred pulled over as the flames swallowed Lou Jitsu and he disappeared, leaving Draxum’s experiments to burn up. All of Draxum’s experiments.

“No…” Michelangelo said; he was on his knees now and dreadfully cold. “No… that… that didn't happen!”

“Didn't it…?”

Did it…? All of Michelangelo’s memories were so twisted, so mixed up, that he couldn’t tell what was true and what was a lie and what had happened and what hadn’t happened. He knew his brothers wouldn’t do that but they did do that, he saw them, they were in his head! In his head… it was all in his head, it was all a game, all a lie, everything. Did his brothers really hate him? Did his father despise him? Did Draxum and April and CJ and everyone else think so lowly of him?! Did they...

Michelangelo was cold. He recognized it now. The stinging bite pierced through his skin, and that was something he knew was a lie. Though the sensations pricked and burned at his mind and body, he wasn’t shivering. He hadn’t been cold in Japan and he certainly wouldn’t be cold here. That was a lie. He remembered Knight’s words, that Krang could only tell lies. Maybe the truth could hurt him?

“You’re lying…” Michelangelo said lowly, and the truth cut worse than a knife through Krang.

“What…?” Krang’s face distorted in recoil.

“Your name isn’t Krang, it’s… Knave. And my brothers don’t hate me either…” Michelangelo stood a little straighter, bringing his burning eyes to meet Knave’s. “Or my friends. They’re taking down your ship right now…”

Michelangelo’s voice carried a storm, an auditory thunder like a lion’s roar! But both quickly realized that it wasn’t just Micelangelo’s voice that had done it as an aftershock hit the mech hard and caught both alien and mutant off guard.

~~~

It was harder to reach Raphael than Leonardo had been anticipating. He entered the mind meld state just as easily as he had in the forest to find Donatello, but finding someone was so much different than actually reaching them. Leonardo could send out as many thoughts as he wanted, but which ones could reach Raphael wasn’t something he could control, especially at such a distance. It was only getting farther and farther away as Raphael raced off to find his friend. The way Cassandra had been tossed, the sound made when Krang’s claws met her flesh. The blood, the scream. He didn't even think a mutant could survive that, let along a human, but he still had to find just in case she was—

Raph!

Raphael stopped, his feet skidding across the asphalt as he looked around. The city was evacuated hours ago, and even if it hadn’t been, he couldn’t think of anyone who would be this far away from the fight that would know him. Was his mind tricking him, or was that strange, turtle-shaped flicker of blue light staring at him?

Raph! The voice said again.

Leonardo! That was Leonardo’s voice! Raphael raced to the blue light he saw and stopped short, the projection transparent and glistening but most assuredly a visage of his brother.

“Wha— Leo? How are you doing that?!”

“There’s no time to explain, I don’t know how long I can hold this!” Leonardo’s image was flickering like a camera glitch, blipping in and out of existence at random, “You need to get to the back of the mech! We think we found a way to shut it down but we need you to—“

Leonardo’s voice and transparent body disappeared. Astral projection. So that was Leonardo’s new power!

“What? Need me to what?” Raphael searched the empty road for anything to complete Leonardo’s urgent request, but there was nothing. If he was going to Raphael for help, then that meant it could only be one thing. “Smash? You need me to smash you out!”

Raphael didn't have his smash jitsu anymore, but he could still try! Maybe being so close to Leonardo would help his little brother to be able to reach him again! Not a thought against his plan came to Raphael’s mind, and he was already on the way back to his brothers’ aid when he remembered why he had been all the way out here to begin with. Cassandra! She was still out there somewhere and he had to find her! He started to go back to his search, then winced and hesitated when he again remembered the desperation in Leonardo’s voice.

He had to choose between his brothers and his best friend and he had minutes, if that, to make the choice. Cassandra or his family, Cassandra or his brothers, his friends his families his—

Was that a truck?! It was! A semi-truck was barreling down toward him blaring a horn louder than any alarm Raphael had ever heard in the lair. Fear and shock froze him to the spot like a deer in headlights as the truck kept coming, and in the driver's seat was a young girl who couldn’t be more older her early twenties, hair pulled back by a bandana and an expression that told of pure, mischievous glee.

“Cass?!” Raphael gawked, and then screamed and raised his hands to cover his face when he realized the impact was imminent. Cassandra had the brakes on just in time, the back of the semi-truck practically lifting up off the road as the tip of its hood just barely brushed against Raphael’s plastron.

Cassandra leaned out of the window, “Get in, big guy! Haven’t got all day!”

“CJ!” Raphael scrambled to climb into the passenger seat, immediately grabbing Cassandra from the drivers seat and turning her around looking for the injuries that he knew he had seen! Cassandra’s clothes were in ruin, the cloth stained crimson, but no matter how Raphael searched he couldn’t find a single injury! “How…?”

“Don’t question a good thing Raphie!” Cassandra said, pushing against Raphael’s plastron to get him to let her go. “Buckle up. We’re going for a ride.”

Raphael strapped himself in. “I didn't know you had a truck driving license!”

“I DON’T!”

With that, Cassabdra sped away down the road.

#krang vs Mikey #return of CJ #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au

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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years

Text

A Work of Art

Michelangelo x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: I haven’t found a lot of fics with Mikey lately, so if you can, could you do one that when reader meets Mikey, instead of screaming they just go,”your eyes are friggen beautiful” of something like that?

Note: I haven’t written anything for Mikey in the longest time so if y’all wanna send in some more requests, feel free.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 0.6k

The chilly night air was refreshing when you stepped out onto the roof of your building. The stars were bright tonight, well, the ones you could see in the city, and the moon was nice and full. The perfect night to paint.

You set up your easel and got your paints ready, clipping a reading light to the easel so you could actually see what you were doing in the dark.

You’d been doing this for at least a few weeks now to get out and get some fresh air. Plus, the night sky was too gorgeous to not paint it. It was just nice to get away from your tiny little apartment, even if it was only for a little while.

Unbeknownst to you, you hadn’t been entirely alone while you’d been painting for the past few weeks. On a neighboring roof, someone had been watching you. This someone was a certain mutant turtle in an orange mask.

Mikey didn’t mean to stalk you, and he knew it was weird that he watched you paint, but once he’d noticed you doing it the first time, he couldn’t help but check in to make sure you were alright during patrols. You’d never spotted him, and he’d never approached or made any attempt to communicate with you. He was afraid that if he did, he’d only scare you off and ruin the magic.

Of course, he couldn’t just admire you from afar forever, and he knew that. So, after weeks of watching you create beautiful artwork night after night, he finally worked up the courage to introduce himself.

He used the fire escape on your building to get up to the roof, because he knew it would make some noise and give you some warning that he was coming up. Not that his presence alone wouldn’t already scare the crap out of you. Every step up the fire escape, he had flashbacks at April fainting at the mere sight of him, or the police officers convinced he was a monster.

Maybe this was a bad idea…

But it was too late. His head had already cleared the top and he was looking at you closer than you had ever been before. Gosh, you were so much prettier up close. Now all he had to do was say—

“Hello?” You called out in his direction.

Well that was unexpected. “Um, h-hi. I’m—”

“I was wondering when you’d come over and introduce yourself.” You giggled, setting your paint brush in the cup of them you had sitting on a stool. You wiped your hands off on your paint-splattered jeans and spun towards him to get a better look. And when you did, your eyes clearly taking him in as he slowly approached, you didn’t move, frozen.

Mikey braced himself for the scream that was so common whenever he was seen by humans, but surprisingly, it never came. Instead, your expression melted and you motioned him over, a soft, friendly smile on your face.

“Woah…” You murmured once he got closer, and his expression fell.

“I’m sorry, I—” He stopped when he felt your little human hands on his face, lifting his chin so you could see his eyes.

“Your eyes are beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes so blue.”

Mikey chuckled, his nervousness and shame finally melting away to expose his bubbly personality. “Really?”

“On God.” You nodded. “I, uh, noticed you watching me paint like a week ago. Are you an artist?”

“Actually, yeah, I am. I haven’t done much lately, but I like painting a lot.” Mikey said.

“You should bring your stuff up here one of these nights and paint with me.” You suggested, sitting back on your stool and picking your brush back up.

Mikey sat on the ground beside you, watching you work. He couldn’t help but notice his silhouette in your work, perched on the neighboring building. He smiled. “I think I will…”

#mikey #michelangelo #michelangelo x reader #michelangelo imagine #mikey x reader #mikey imagine #tmnt #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bayverse

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tmnt-mags · 4 years

Text

Raphael x Fem!Reader

Reader is April's little sister and meets the turtles through her. I changed the ages and timeline a bit just because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing the turtles as 15 year old kids. SO the turtles are 18 the reader is 17 nearing 18 and april is 27.

Warnings: some mention of parent death, but nothing else!

Part 1/ ??

Im still pretty new at writing fanfic and have only done a few and this is my very first tmnt one. Constructive criticism and nice things only please!

I didn't remember my dad. My mother gave birth to me a month before his death. I didn’t remember him but my big sister April did. She told me everything she could about him, all kinds of stories and old home videos. It's almost like I know him but I don’t. Sometimes it's sad and I wish for nothing more than to have some memories with him, but I’ve had a good life and have a great family. I’ve lived with my sister since our mom passed 2 years ago from cancer. I miss her a lot, but I like living with April and I love our apartment.

We both have a deep love for media. She is a reporter with Channel 6 and I started making youtube videos right around the time mom died. It was like a video diary back then and has since turned into something completely different, though there are the occasional personal diary type videos.

I was wearing my favorite oversized sweater. It was a deep forest green and nearly reached my knees. It was worn and a bit tattered in some places, but it was the coziest thing ever.. I was barefoot in the kitchen listening to April talking about the latest Foot Clan activity and thinking about the questions she was planning for some guy who worked on the docks. She had convinced her camera guy Vern to take her over there before they shot her morning segment.

“You’re gonna be late!” I called into the living room while putting some breakfastt in a container for her to take on the road.

“Thank you shorty,” She rushed in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her breakfast and rushed out of the kitchen again to grab her bag “I’ll either be back for dinner or late!”

“That's really specific April,” I mutter as a lean in the kitchen doorway and watch her check her purse. “Do you have your touchup bag and your toothbrush?”

April let out a small gasp and rushed back to the bathroom. She came back out with a bag, gathered her things and blew a kiss as she ran out the door. I let out a laugh and went to eat my own food.

I spent the day editing a new video. I just hit 700k last week so I was making a special video to celebrate. It had some songs that I had covered laid over a video of me painting a portrait of my mother and father. It was taken a year before he had died and they had gone on a weekend getaway in the Appalachian mountains.

I didn't look up until April burst through the door. It was already dark out and I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just witnessed a Foot Clan attack!” she called as she walked through the apartment.

“What? Oh my god! Are you okay?” I practically jumped up and followed her as she began pacing around the living room. “April? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! There I was at the docks trying to get some answers and then BAM! They were there!” She went on about the attack and then started about some kind of vigilante that fought them off.

“Vigilante? Are you serious?” She didn't answer, she just went into her room. I sat back down on the couch and tried to process what she had said. In the end I shook it off and went get some dinner ready.

Over the next few days April was hard to find. She seemed to be constantly on the move and didn't answer her phone. She came home talking about dad's old experiments and giant turtles, and over the next 2 days seemed to just be gone. The spire on the Sacks building fell and The Shredder, who was the leader of the Foot Clan, was arrested and Eric Sacks was revealed to have been working alongside him the whole time. It was a wild time for New York, and April was suddenly quiet about the vigilantes.

Time began to move on and April started talking about these 4 new friends she had that were brothers. They seemed like a fun nice group, and the stories she shared were great.

“So,” I started as we sat together on the couch, “when do I get to meet the brothers?”

April choked on her glass of white wine. “What? Meet them?”

“Yeah, You talk about them all the time! I would like to meet them. They’re all you’ve been talking about for like 3 weeks.” I said as I pushed her with my foot.

“Ummm,” April stopped to think and had a vague look of concern on her face, “I'm not sure actually. They’re pretty busy guys.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Uh-huh. If you don't want me to meet them just say so. I was just curious.” I turn my face away from her.

“No it's not that, It's just they’re kinda shy. They don’t really like meeting people.” April's face said that she was telling a lie.

“Okay.” I left it at that clearly something is bugging her about me meeting her friends.

April-

April went to spend some time with the boys, but couldn’t stop thinking about them meeting her little sister. How would she react? She thought to herself, ‘I fainted when I met them, and there are still times when it kinda freaks me out a bit. I don’t want my baby sister to get scared and I don’t want the boys to get hurt because of it.’ They had tried to act like April’s reaction didn’t hurt them, but she knew it did. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’ She was sitting in the lair watching the boys fight and Mikey brought up their Christmas pop album again. She smiled, (y/n) loved music and often performed covers on YouTube. She was really good at it. She had even written her own songs but at this point refused to release or talk about them on her channel.

“April, is something troubling you?” The brunette turned, surprised to see Master Splinter.

“Oh it’s nothing really.” She paused, “Actually could we talk? I am having some trouble.” Splinter nodded and gestured for her to follow. Not answering the questioning looks of the brothers, they went into Hashi.

“The boys avoid this room as much as possible,” Splinter said with a chuckle, “they will not listen in in here.”

“Makes sense,” April laughed and sat down on a mat with Splinter while looking at the odd structures in the room, “I’m having some trouble with my sister.”

“Oh yes, little (y/n) she had only just been born. I believe your father brought her down to the lab twice in those last weeks.” He thought back fondly on the small soft baby that looked so tiny in the arms of her father but so big compared to him then. “ what is it that is wrong?”

“She wants to meet the brothers. She doesn’t know that they are turtles, but she knows I have new friends.” April said looking down, “ we are very open. We’re the only family we have left so we always know each other's friends. It’s a safety thing I guess.”

Master Splinter hummed and looked at April, who continued.

“She wants to meet them and honestly I want her to too! I think they would all get along so well and I think the boys would adore her. It would also be nice to know that there are 4 ninjas who would look out for her.” April sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just don’t want the boys to get hurt. What if she is afraid of them? What if she screams and calls them monsters or freaks? What if she passes out or cries. It would hurt them so much, and I don’t want to see my sister frightened anyway.” April’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her face to look across at Splinter.

“You know your sister well? Do you think she will react this way?” The rat questioned.

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly a situation that has ever come up before or one I ever thought I would be in.” She played with her fingers in her lap and she watched him stroke his beard.

“I think you know your sister well and know what would be the best course of action.” He smiled, “I think the trouble now will be convincing the boys to risk meeting her. I have no doubt that it will be a split crowd.”

April nodded and gave a kind of exasperated smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mikey and Ralph would agree, Donnie was iffy, but Leo would say no.

“Thank you Splinter. That does actually help. Do you mind if I stay in here a bit longer?” She asked.

“Go ahead child. Take your time.” Splinter got up and left the Hashi.

April sat and thought about what he had said. She thought back to everything she knew about her sister and what she knew of the boys. If her sister could be accepting she knew that they could have a great friendship. The boys were half a year older than her and they didn't know anyone their age. It would be nice for them to have that she thought. She knew Mikey would be super friendly right away, maybe even too friendly. Donnie would be polite but wary at first and a bit excited. Raph would be happy just to meet another person, but Leo would be cold. She feared that he would be distant and unapproachable and she knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She took her time and eventually rejoined the brothers. She brushed off their questions with a simple: “I needed advice.” She sat down with them as they all talked and joked around. Finally Donnie brought up the perfect opportunity.

“April you're lucky you don't have brothers.” He said as Mikey bombarded him with insane ideas for gadgets.

“Well I don't have any brothers but I do have a baby sister.” The turtles all turned towards her clearly shocked by this news. “She's actually about 4 months from turning 18.”

“Woah Angelcakes, We didn't know you had a lil’ sis. Is she as beautiful as you?” Mikey said while batting his eyes at her.

“I think she is absolutely gorgeous, and she sings and does art. She’s about to be a senior in high school.” April said while leaning closer to mikey. “Shes shorter than me and has curves for days. She used to be on the dance team actually.” April laughed and Mikey threw himself back and fanned himself with his hand.

“Why haven't you mentioned her?” Leo asked.

“You never asked if I had any siblings. She was born a few weeks before my dad died.” April smiled sadly at that “She actually asked if she could meet you.”

The boys seemed to freeze at that, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

“You told about us?”. Raph asked.

“Kinda. I might have left out the part about being ninja turtles, but I told her about my new friends and she wants to meet you guys.” Raph scoffed at her answer.

“So you didn't actually tell her about us.” He almost snapped at her.

“Cool it Raph.” leo warned.

“I don't wanna be looked at like a freak. She won't want to meet us when she sees us.” he stood up and walked off. April looked at the others who all looked like they wanted to disagree and agree with Raph at the same time.

“Sorry angelcakes, I'm sure baby angelcakes is great though.” Mikey shrugged.

April sat in disbelief that they all basically said no. The lair was quiet after that and she left after they ate some dinner.

She got home only to remember her sister was spending the night at her friends house. So she had the place all to herself. She let out a sigh and poured herself a tall glass of wine and sat on the couch thinking about the events of the day. She came up with a plan as she finished her cup and decided that by the end of the week they boys will have met her baby sister. She grabbed her phone and invited the boys to come hang out at her place for once this upcoming weekend. They didn't even ask if her sister would be there.

(Y/N)-

April had gone out to pick up some pizza for a late night dinner. I had school, homework, and some video editing to do and forgot to cook. April came home late and said not to worry about it and would grab some pizza. Her new favorite place didn’t offer delivery so she went to go get it. I decided that a nice hot shower sounded good and went in. I got out as I heard the front door open and close. I made my way to my room about to throw on my favorite green sweater only to remember that It had been washed and was in the dryer. So, I wrapped my towel back around me and opened my door to head out into the living room. I walked out and looked up only to meet with 4 pairs of eyes.

“Oh my bad,” I said, turning to go back to my room only to stop and turn right back around. “Ummmm…” I trailed off not sure what to say as I stared at 4 very large, very green, oddly human like turtles, all while in a bath towel that left most of my left hip exposed.

“Oh hi (y/n). I forgot to mention I had friends coming over.” April said walking into the room. “You might wanna put some clothes on though.”

“Yeah…” I said not able to look away from the very large turtle creatures sitting in the living room.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2014

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aliaslua · 4 years

Note

Ok about those "living with bodyguard turtles" hc, how would the boys react if the human they're protecting (now their best friend, mind you) had feelings for them? Like the human doesnt tell them but it's kind of obvious, theyre pretty bad at hiding it?

omg this is my first request

I received this ask at the exact moment that I submitted my last assignment, so I'd just officially started my college break ... The perfect way to start my rest *chef's kiss*. Thank you so much for the suggestion! <3 I was craving some angst. I hope you enjoy! it’s also kinda long LOL I was trully excited

you can read the first part here

Leonardo

It happened one day while he was helping you in training. The whole family was already used to your presence, you and Leo trained together every day and he loved it. He thought it was really cool to keep up with your performance and he was so proud of your increasing dedication and persistence, even on the days when the training was hard.

On that specific day he had decided to give you a break, since the training the day before had been heavy. Everything seemed absolutely normal until the moment when he needed to help you with a yoga posture and although you barely started the exercises, he realized that your heart was beating fast, very fast. Strange, he thought, but when he looked at your face and realized that you blushed, he also became overly aware of his own hands on your waist and how close your faces were. Suddenly, you broke contact with his eyes and walked away abruptly. "I'm not feeling well" you said "Maybe tomorrow."

Leonardo stood in the training room with a huge question mark in his face. Were you… nervous? During training? Why? You had been training together for months and it wasn't the first time that you needed support for a posture and…

The next few days are like a nightmare. Suddenly you decide that you prefer to train alone. Then you make up an absurd excuse for not watching the movie on wednesday. You don't talk to him, you don't train together, it's almost like you disappeared from his life. It's too much. One day during breakfast he asks you a direct question, but you simply decline the invitation while still avoiding looking at him. A horrible silence is in the air when you leave the kitchen without even finishing your breakfast.

"What did I do?" Leo asks, clearly hurt. His brothers look at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" Donnie asks. "What?" That's all the oldest brother can answer. "She's into you, moron." Raph responds, clearly irritated.

The realization runs through him like an electric current. Is that why you are avoiding him? What it means "you are into him"? Like… Are you in love? You? No way. You were his pupil! The first student he had, more like a life partner, a housemate. He never thought that someone like you could ... Him? It's too much for him. He needed to sit down.

"It looks like your intuition isn't that good huh, your stallion!" Mikey jokes.

The next are sleepless nights. Suddenly everything makes sense. How you smiled when he brushed your hair off your face, how you asked him to stay by your side when you couldn't sleep, how you insisted that the training should be longer, he always had interpreted all that as a sign of friendship, but now he felt completely naive. And to think that you could feel like that for someone like him ... It changed everything. What did that mean? He missed you. Missed you a lot. Seeing you so distant made him suffer in a way that only seemed logical now that he realized that perhaps his own feelings were the same. His head is spinning. Perhaps…. Maybe you could...

No. Absolutely not. The mission was clear. He had a single duty, to protect you. And he was going to complete the mission even if you spent the rest of your time together without looking at him again, no matter how much it hurt. Nothing was going to stop him from keeping you safe, not even his own feelings.

Raphael

It happened that morning while he was working out. You had just read “Emma” and it was the last book by Jane Austen that was missing for you to complete the bibliography. You sighed at the romantic ending but he hit the punching bag with an overly aggressive stance.

"We have to stop reading that shit." He said, suddenly. "Why?" You asked, surprised "I thought you liked it." "I like it. It's just ... it's kind of depressing for me." "What do you mean?" He stopped punching. Still with his back to you, you could see him adjusting his hand-bands. "Ah, come on, Shorty ... You know that none of this will ever happen to me." He threw a punch that made you jump "It hurts ... to know what it could be." "What do you mean, it's never gonna happen to you?" You asked honestly. He could hear in your voice that you were incredulous. "Cut the crap, Y / N." He turned, annoyed. "Look at me!" "I AM looking." you said, standing up "All I see is a caring, kind, gentle man and the day you fall in love with someone I know that you will be the most loving and dedicated partner and that person will be the luckiest in the world." You closed your mouth as if you had just said cursed words. Across the room, Raphael was stiff and speechless. Suddenly, the Lair' alarm went off. He went to join the brothers in silence, an emergency demanded his attention.

That night, Raph didn't come back home. He spent the night sitting on the edge of a building looking out over the city, mesmerized by your words.

It may be hard to believe, but Raphael is always very aware of his own emotions. That's why he is always so angry, that's why he cannot contain the urge to fight. He feels everything deeply. You didn't have to say anything else. It was as clear as day for him. He knew that was an unplanned declaration of love, he knew you were trying to hide it and you couldn't, and he knew it was too late now. He also knew he felt the same way. And he knew you could never be what his heart desired.

In his deepest fantasies, Raph would return home, lift you up around the waist and swear eternal love, just like in the books. And he would be yours, from then on and forever and you would never be alone, afraid or sad again. He would spend the rest of his life doing everything to make you the happiest person in the world.

But he also knew that it would never be possible with a man like him. He, who couldn't give you a decent home, the wedding you deserved, couldn't give you a family... - Fuck - He couldn't even meet your family. You would be forever unhappy, stuck with a monstrous and impetuous man and for that reason, he needed to work out the kindest way to reject your affection, knowing that it would be the most difficult thing he would have to do in life.

Donatello

Donnie wasn't prone to false modesty. He knew without a doubt that he had a deductive ability beyond average and he knew that he had enough knowledge to always reach the most likely conclusions. Why, then, could he not get it out of his head that you felt something for him that wasn't limited to a mere friendship?

He was working in the lab and couldn't stop thinking about all the obvious signs. Once again he redid the list of symptoms in his head: You had stopped reading alone in your private room they had built for you and now whenever you could, read by his side while he worked on the computer. Okay, nothing suspicious, a friendly, normal, expected gesture. But then there was that day when he stopped typing for a second and when he looked at you, you were staring at him. Clearly! He even saw it when you turned your face back to your book, in a pathetic attempt to pretend you weren't completely absorbed in watching him. That was strange. Okay, okay. Just one more event, it didn't indicate anything. So there was that night when everyone was watching a horror movie and you hugged his arm after a jumpscare, you guys stared at each other for a few seconds and he thought he saw you... blushing? Not to mention that now during your weekly debate sessions you seemed very giggly, very self-conscious, maybe even shy ... You had started to avoid direct eye contact with him and he realized with disbelief when your body language indicated attraction. Yes, yes ... He had ignored it the first few times but the way you smiled, the way you tilted your neck, how you approached him... Was he going crazy ???

Two hypotheses floated in his mind. The firs: he was going crazy, hallucinating and that was why he was seeing things and all the obvious signs that you were… interested in him were just the crazy dream of an unbalanced man. Or ... Well, or you really had developed a real and palpable romantic desire and you were so caught up in that urge that you couldn't hide it.

He narrowed his eyes again. No, no. Certainly not. You? No way. It didn't make sense from an instinctive and evolutionary point of view (why would you have that urge? You weren't even of the same species) and from a subjective, spiritual point of view, well ... Why would you like someone like him? You were beautiful, intelligent, clearly had an exceptional capacity for conversation and aside from that brief moment in your life, when you would finally have your freedom back, surely you would have no difficulty in finding a partner being such a wonderful, kind person, loving and…

He was no longer paying any attention to the viral sample he had placed under the microscope. He felt his own heart sink. If you really liked him then ... So does that mean ... That he had a chance? That he no longer needed to hide his intentions, his desires? That he could finally confess and that you would say ...

Someone knocked on the door. It was you. Sleepy and in pajamas, you still looked wonderful. "Donnie, can I sleep here?" "Of course, dear."

You smiled slightly, your eyes still half closed with sleep. He saw you lying on the couch, you fell asleep right away. He continued to look at you, so peaceful and impassive... He came to the only possible conclusion: It could never happen. You deserve affection, security, stability. A peaceful life with someone who cared for you, not someone who constantly put you at risk ... Someone who wasn't like him. Donatello looked away from your face, thinking it might lessen the pain. He knew that, in that case, the most rational option was to pretend that he had never deducted anything.

Michelangelo

"So... What are you going to do?" Leonardo asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had been established between the brothers. On the other side of the lair, you were sleeping.

"I do not know!" Mikey almost screamed before he remembered that you couldn't wake up, no way "That's why I'm asking!"

“Well… she clearly likes you. We all agree." Donnie concluded. "Yes" Leonardo shook his head. "Yeah ..." Raphael was staring at the brothers. "... And if you break her heart we'll all beat you up."

They all laughed, except Mikey. That was precisely the problem.

"It's not funny ..." The youngest of the brothers said, sitting on the kitchen table chair. Everyone understood that this was a serious situation when Michelangelo rested his head in his hands and again plunged into meditative silence.

He would never forget the day you sat with him on the couch and asked him to ...Chill a little. Never. Not because he was hurt, no ... You had been kind and caring and he had been very happy to know that you felt comfortable opening up to him that way. And if there was one thing he didn't want to be, it was overwhelming. So he did what you asked, he stopped flirting, stopped talking nonstop, stopped with intrusive questions ... And everything seemed perfect!

You were the best friend he could have. You laughed at his jokes, went out with him to tag abandoned cars, you ate pizza on the roof, played pranks on your brothers. Everything was great! You were everything to him and he knew that he felt much more than brotherly love for you. He always knew. But he had made a promise, he had promised that he would no longer crush you with his feelings ...

But things started to escalate. You started sharing intimate secrets, sharing dreams. During movie nights you laid on his shoulder and every day you cooked something new and brought it to him while he was playing video games. One day - that damn day - Raphael teased you and said “My my, what a beautiful couple” and Michelangelo almost had a heart attack when instead of emphatically replying that you weren't a couple or anything like that you just… Smiled and looked away. WHAT? WHAT KIND OF REACTION IS THAT? Mikey still remembered the unbearable heat he felt on his face that day when you just SMILED when you heard someone suggest you were his.

Since then, he only thought about one thing: "How can I reject her?"

The sadness in everyone's eyes was clear.

"Maybe you guys deserve a chance, Mikey." Leo suggested.

"But how?? Tell me, Leonardo, for God's sake, how am I going to make that woman happy? Huh! I have NOTHING to give. Nothing to add, to offer! I… I am literally a sewer monster… It will be a matter of time before she regrets, and how would I move on afterwards? ... "

"Mikey… ” Raphael started to speak, but was interrupted by his brother:

“You know what… You are right. It's time to grow up. This is a stupid dream. And it will never come true… ”

A gentle reminder that English is not my first language so if you see any grotesque grammatical errors, please let me know! <3 Thank you for reading

#tmnt #tmnt imagine #bayverse tmnt #imagine #bodyguard #fluff #angst #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt Raphael #TMNT Donatello #requests are open #ask

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