#i basically wrote this just to be able to live it through them and spend the day researching wreaths

[plutolovesyou]

Where the Mulberry Tree Stands

before you read ▪︎ my masterlist

☆: my rewrite of the myth of pyramus and thisbe. ♡ but with ellie as pyramus, & reader as thisbe. i realize this is very niche, but i wanted to try something new! absolutely adore mythology of all kinds, so basically wrote this for myself. if you do read, hope you enjoy! well, as much as you're able to...photomode creds—astralnymphh on pinterest.

◇: reader discretion is advised!! please do not read if sensitive to heavy angst with a tragic end, descriptions of suicide & brief mentions of parental abuse. also contains flowery writing and references to figures/things in ancient greece (which i pray are accurate...) ++ 4k wc

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.” — Homer, The Iliad.

Tap tap tap, three raps on the plaster wall in double time signaled to her on the other side that your meeting time had arrived. Tap tap tap, and she returned it with a flourish at the end, a new arrangement every day, so you knew to escape into the night.

Ellie—who was named after and nothing short of the embodiment of light itself—your lover, your soulmate, your other half lived just there. But generations upon generations of family tension forbade you two from living your dreams. Decades of battles for who had better quality fruit, sweeter honey, more drachmae, which family was favored by the citizens in the area—it all felt trivial, and frankly silly, when you thought about how much she meant to you in comparison to all that.

You had memories of early childhood, kneeling on the scratchy straw of the floor, while your mother berated you for spending time with the girl. “What were you thinking? I will not have my child associating with dishonorable likes such as them, you have disappointed me greatly. If I catch you over there one more time, by gods I will feed you to the wolves with my own two hands. Try it, one more time and you'll see what will fall upon you.” The way her voice shook with emotion was harrowing, you've never seen your mother in such a rageful, infuriated state, you could have sworn she was emulating the anger of a gorgon, and you remember the slap across your face that quickly followed her outburst, how it burned.

Yet through all the lectures and beatings, you never understood where she was coming from. Shouldn't bonds—strong and robust as if they were forged on Hephaestus’ anvil—come above all material things? You thought so at least. And she agreed. When you matured, you pitied your family for missing out on such experiences. “They will never know how lucky we are.” You would whisper in your lover's ear, whenever she fell asleep on you during your beloved nightly outings.

Every time you laid eyes on her, it was like you fell in love all over again. Her olive eyes shining, grin lighting up her entire face, husky giggles filling the air as she bolted to tackle you in a tight embrace. You two spun in each other's arms, nearly tripping over the low wooden fence marking your shared property. It only earned a laugh—when you were with her, any negativity was completely erased, as if it never existed in the first place. All stresses, worries, cares in the world simply vaporized into the air, and the only emotion you knew was adoration.

You two skipped hand-in-hand to your favorite spot by the river, where the air cooled and the grass was dotted with baby blue flowers. You toppled over, falling to a heap on the ground. Moist smacks of her lips all over your face while she cradled your jaw tenderly, every reunion with her felt like it was multiple lifetimes apart. Your breathing synced as you sat together in silence, enjoying each other's company.

Soon after you sat down though, unexpectedly, Ellie began with a wobbly voice, tears welling up in her eyes, “I love you so much, can't stand to be apart from you. This is torture, sometimes I can’t bear to wait for the sun to set, I need to rip it out of the sky myself. What did we even do to deserve this?” You pulled her in and cuddled her close to your chest, letting her listen to the rhythm of your heart and wrap her arms around you to rub your back. You felt the way her hands trembled, you couldn't remember the last time you saw the tough Ellie break down like this, it was tearing you apart.

Kissing the top of her head, you interjected, “But observe it positively, at least we are able to see each other at all, and we live so close, only separated by one thin wall.” Her shoulders began to shake, sticky tears quickly soaking through the linens you were wearing. Feeling your own heart shatter into countless pieces, you just stroked her hair and let her cry as much as she needed.

She clutched you tighter and wailed, “I just wish to spend every hour by your side, every hour awake and every hour asleep, without any separation. I wish I could cook for you in our house, with vegetables grown from our soil, bring you flowers from our garden, and tend to the animals you and I named, instead of waiting until sunset after a day of listening to my father talk badly of you. When I hear him spout all that nonsense, it hurts me so deeply, because all he's saying are lies…this is so unfair.”

You tried your best to console her, “Shh, my love, don't cry. That is the most beautiful dream and I wish it all the same, but don't despair.” You moved her face so she looked up at you, sparkly tears streaming down her sun-kissed cheeks, her beauty was blinding—even when she was sad. “Don't lament, for I am right here, look!” You tried to cheer her up, “I'm holding you now while we rest, while we breathe in the crisp air and feel the soft blades of grass beneath us, all will be well. Don't dwell on those thoughts, let them go.”

Swaying gently from side to side and humming a calming melody, you succeeded in soothing her, feeling her relax in your arms and her shudders slow to a stop. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. You continued the sweet reassurances, kissing away her tears. “One day, whether it be soon, or when we're old and fragile, struggling to stand or wipe our own asses,” you pause to share a chuckle with her, “We won't have to meet like this. Just trust, there is a plan for us in the stars, trust in our gods.”

She nodded, turning to gaze off in the distance, and watch a white crane drink from the water. She snapped to look at you with surprise blazing in her eyes, more round than your mother's prized ceramic dishes. “I have a thought, what if we wed? In secret, with our families never knowing a thing. Or even better we go to the spot over there,” she stopped to point across the river, at the large mulberry tree standing tall in the middle of a yellow-green field. She continues, “And we run away together. We could hitch a ride on a ship and sail over to Lesbos, perhaps we can meet Sappho herself! I've always wanted to. But first we must profess our love for each other, properly, tomorrow night's time, under the tree, to ensure we're blessed. What do you think?”

She was holding your hands gingerly, ghosting the pads of her fingers over your knuckles. For the first time in so many years, you felt a strange warmth brew in your chest, what was it, you had forgotten. Could it be hope? You felt your mouth stretch into a smile so wide it ached, and you burst forward to throw your arms around her neck again, mumbling into the side of her neck, “Yes, yes, Ellie, a thousand times, yes. Oh, I can't wait, I will swipe one of my mother’s silk veils, cook us a celebratory meal, it will be so wonderful.”

Mellow belly laughs, delightful as those spilling from a leader being crowned, tore themselves from her chapped lips, and she squeezed you so tight against her, like she was never planning to let go. “And I will bring my spear, gifted by my grandfather, so I have it to protect my wife from anything that dares harm her.” Hearing her refer to you as her wife, it was a feeling like none other. The butterflies in your stomach swarmed like they became a flock of swallows, their excited tittering heard all the way across the ocean.

You squealed, “Ah I love you, I love you, I love you, my dearest, we will have such a wondrous life together.”

“Yes, that we will, but let's rest until then, I look forward to it. I will write a song just for you as well, bring my lyre and sing to you so we dance from evening until dawn arrives. As soon as night falls, I will be by the spot waiting, that is a promise. Now rest, we have big plans ahead of us, have the sweetest dreams, love.”

The next day spent waiting was as torturous as Ellie describes, only worse. Because all you could think about was her. Running away with her, never looking back at your old lives, getting joyously joined in matrimony—albeit informally—your mind was plagued. After your mother left for her daily errands in the town, you dug through her things, practically overturned her whole space to find the veil. You put it on, feeling so exquisite. It appeared as if it was weaved on an angel's loom, the fibers soft and vibrant.

When all that was over, you resorted solely to watching the sun move in the sky. You were feeling impatient and antsy, and briskly grew tired of waiting so you decided to get started on the trek. You have not been over to that spot in some time, but were interested to see how the tree had grown, and if it had reared fruit. You observed the clouds and the sky during your stroll—the sun had not set fully, the sky still as orange as freshly pressed juice.

Luckily the river was shallow, so you just hiked up your clothes to your waist and crossed without a hitch. You scurried through the tall grass and made it to the tree, sitting down underneath it. You took a deep breath in, smelling the clean air and observing the lively nature around you, still bored but glad to be away from your house—nothing good ever occurred there.

Looking up, you're pleasantly shocked to see the tree is full of fruits, clusters of pale baubles brightly contrasting the green leaves. You reached up and took one from the stem, biting into it, but you recoiled at the taste—tart and bitter, it was horrendous. Like you were eating something utterly inedible. You threw it on the ground, grinding it to a pulp with the bottom of your sandal, that's how offended you were at the assault it performed in your mouth. “Ugh, gross, these are meant to be ripe…do we really eat them like this? What a waste of a fruit.” You muttered to yourself, resuming a cross-legged sitting position by the tree's roots.

After some more time of uneventful waiting, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, at attention, primal alarm bells going off inside you—something wasn't right.

You scan your surroundings with haste, noticing movement in the tall grass in front of you, you're transfixed and stay staring at it, ripping a branch off of the tree to use as a weapon, because your warrior wasn't here yet to protect you from harm.

You heard her before you saw her, a low guttural rumbling rang through the air that could only belong to one thing. Out of the grass emerged a golden lioness, slinking towards you with hushed aggression, her teeth bared and dripping with the remains of a kill.

Your instincts to run away kicked in with full force, and you screamed out for help, running as fast as your legs would carry you. Unfortunately, the speed at which you sat up caused the veil to fall from your head and to the ground—but you didn't care, you didn't think it was possible for your mother to hate you more than she already does. You ran as far as you could, briefly glancing behind you to see what the situation was, what the lioness was doing.

You were able to make out her tearing the fabric apart so voraciously, bloodstained jaws ripping it into shreds, bits of dyed fabric flying to all sides. You still ran as far away as you could, you did not want to be the next victim of those canines, that would be anything but pleasant.

Once the adrenaline wore off you collapsed, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath with difficulty. The tall plants hid you well from any threats, so you laid down, and closed your eyes to recuperate before it was time to meet with Ellie.

When night fell, Ellie made her way to the spot, spear and lyre in hand. She was so excited, and had spent the whole day practicing her act happily, making sure every note she played was perfect. She wanted to make this the best one-woman show you've ever seen.

She couldn't contain her glee, and resorted to sprinting to the designated meeting place, calling out to you, her voice light as a birdsong, “Lovely! I've arrived!” But she stopped short in her tracks when she didn't see you jogging over to greet her with a hug, or really anywhere at all.

“Where could you be?” She asked the world in bewilderment, casting glances all around her to see if you were playing a trick on her. She didn't think you were, but didn't wish to jump to worst case scenarios right away.

Her heartbeat sped up slightly, suffocating fear bubbling up in her throat at your absence. Scampering closer to where she thought you were going to be, she still saw you were nowhere to be found. That is, until something colorful caught her eye.

Hanging from a branch, a piece of torn fabric, stained with dark, still-wet blood. Her line of sight dropped, and she saw more pieces strewn across the dirt, next to glaring claw marks in the soil, and decorating the tree's bark.

She suddenly felt winded, as if somebody had thrown her from a height and she landed flat on her back, full panic setting in. “Oh gods, oh no, what-” She gasped, teetering backwards, overwhelmed by the realization that had taken hold of her. “No, no, no, no, she's right over there. This is from before…” she muttered under her breath, her inhales labored, head pounding as if she was struck by a hammer, and hands shaking so intensely the pieces of fabric she was still holding slipped from her fingers.

“Love! Come out!” She yelled again, her voice cracking, her vision tunneling and chest seizing—this couldn't be happening.

The blood roared in her ears, tears pouring out of her eyes while she pawed at her hair and fell to her knees, hyperventilating. Her spear and lyre clattered noisily as they fell, lyre shattering to bits. She yanked on her locks, unable to believe what was happening to her—where was her love?

She picked up the pieces of the veil, frantically trying to rejoin them, the blood coating her uncontrolled fingers and staining her skin, the hideous color making her stomach turn.

Then the sobs came, she had never cried harder in her life, her whole body heaving with each quake, the pain in her soul worsening as seconds flew by. She kneeled before the tree, pleading to the sky, “Someone…anyone…please. I need her with me.” She felt light-headed, consumed by otherworldly anguish as if it was bestowed by Hades’ hand. It began to morph into numb hopelessness the longer she stayed there, praying, weeping into the ground.

She had to do something, escape from her body, thoughts were swarming her mind, the idea that you were dead ridding her of balance, taking everything from her.

She pleaded until her throat hurt, until crows had perched at the top of the tree to watch her exhibition. They cawed mockery at her, as if they were saying, measly human!

She howled, “What is this life, just give her back to me! Give me back my love, give her back to me, I can't be without her. I can't, no I couldn't. It's too—no—uh. Gods, anyone? Why, why, why?”

Cacophonous, animalistic, cries fell from her lips until she couldn't produce a croak—voice dry and hoarse, waves of grief clawing their way out of her, eating her from the inside out. Her tone barely above a whisper, she was still mumbling, “Give her back, give her back to me. I haven't done any wrong in my life, we can't help where we come from! Just give her back.” In the furthest recesses of her mind there remained a glimpse of hope that she could bring you back, if she willed it hard enough.

She was flooded with memories, memories of your scent, your warmth in her arms, your sing-song voice and the love-filled looks and caresses she was so blessed to be the recipient of. All of that, was she never to experience it again?

She attempted to stand up, but her legs could not hold her, she fell on the hard ground with a grunt, even having cried out all her tears. Every passing moment made it more difficult to breathe, made her chest hurt worse—she needed to do something to ease it.

Her spear. The glint of the metal alloy caught her eye from where it was, any sense of judgment she had before was gone, replaced by pure darkness, the wish to leave the world.

She picked it up, and almost couldn't hold it, the handle feeling twenty times heavier than usual, the blade shaking in her unsteady hands. Was she doing this? She had to, there was nothing else left for her, she thought.

She found her voice, slowly angling the glimmering edge of the blade towards her heart, and said a word. “My love, we'll meet again. We'll meet in the flowering fields of Elysium, where I will get to hold your hand once more, and we'll have our own house, attached to a garden full of vegetables to cook delicious meals with. We'll play with the animals we named, and spend every hour together—awake and asleep. I must do this, for life isn't possible without you.”

She took a deep breath and stabilized her hands, bringing the spear tip to touch her sternum. Her voice steadying, she said three words for the very last time, “I love you.” Before plunging the blade in her heart with all the strength she had left.

The pain was indescribable, so painful she couldn't even scream, but it was thankfully short-lived—she lost consciousness almost immediately after coughing up some blood. It splattered all over the mulberry tree, dyeing the previously white fruits to a shade mimicking that of wine. What followed was never ending blackness, but finally peace, and she left the world with a smile on her face, her last thought was that of you.

Over in the grass, the breeze flying through the tall stalks lulled you to a sleep, and you awoke with a start, confused as to what had happened and where you were.

You blinked the bleariness away and sat up, remembering the lioness that tried to attack you. What a story you had to tell Ellie. She wouldn't believe you, in your mind's eye you could see the way she'd nod, the teasing tone to her voice, “Yes, that happened. No, no, of course I believe you, when have I not?”

At the thought of her, you remembered why you were out here in the first place—to meet with your future wife and profess your love, then run away to live the life you dreamed of. Oh how you couldn't wait.

You jumped up and dusted yourself off, then ran to the tree, eager to tell Ellie about the encounter you had.

But the sight that befell you was the worst thing you could've ever imagined to see. Something only written in the most famous tragedies, something no one ever wished on another person, even their worst enemies.

Ellie, your love, laying on the ground in a pool of maroon blood, with no color in her features, and her spear sticking out of her chest.

You gasped in horror and rushed to her side, madly shaking her body, patting her cheeks, pressing on her arms—but alas, she was completely limp.

“Ellie! No! Wake up!” Thunderous shrieks, begs and pleads for her to wake up shook the Earth, you stroked her face, the ugly feel of her cold skin only adding to the devastation.

When she wasn't moving, you held her body protectively, didn't ever wish to let go, tried to find any signs of life, tears of mourning streaming down your face in bucketfuls.

You stayed there by her as long as you could, silently praying to whatever was out there for her to move a muscle, to open her eyes and assure you everything was alright—she was just joking around, the blood was juice she nabbed, thickened with starch she got from the kitchen, the spear tip was broken and actually just resting against her skin, held in place by a base she crafted and secured under her robe, her lifeless complexion produced by powder—likely flour—to give the chalky effect.

But no, this was reality. Your love had left you. She left you the worst way, by taking her life herself. But why? After all you had planned together?

Thinking like that pained you, the wretched feeling of grief spreading throughout your whole being, thinking of anything at all felt impossible. Did she do it because of you? That thought sent a wave of nausea through you, there was no way that was true.

There was only one thing left to do, you thought. You made up your mind, pulled the spear from her chest, wincing at the sight of her wound, and held it in your hand. You leaned forward and pressed one more kiss to the middle of her forehead, forced a smile against her, and whispered, “It's okay, I'll be with you soon, my love. We'll meet again.”

You took a few breaths in and out, braced yourself for the piercing pain, lined up the sharp tip with your own heart, and thrust with all your might.

Sweet mulberries, succulent and luscious—ended up ripening to a deep mauve hue, similar to that of blood and wine, and became the most adored fruit of them all. A plentiful treat for the masses, deemed compensation for the sacrifice of two love-sick mortals. It was the least the gods could do after all they witnessed before them today. As they watched the spectacle, their understanding of the human species only increased in wonder, in curiosity about their motivations. “That was so strange, they did not know the other was alright—merely jumping to conclusions. Fascinating. Humans are so emotional, where's the rationale?” They debated amongst themselves until the sun rose once more, the only agreement they came to was increased sympathy for humanity, even going as far as to pity.

“Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight. For the greatest tragedy of them all is never to feel the burning light.” — Oscar Wilde.

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[cheoliehansolie]

Green Mangoes

Summary: When Chan catches you eating green mangoes, he can't help but spiral.

Word Count: ~ 2.3k

Pairing: Lee Chan x fem reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

an: This was something that I mainly wrote for myself because I found it funny in my head so if it's not funny or entertaining, that's why. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You had been up for a few hours enjoying the little alone time you get since you moved in with your boyfriend. You and Chan recently moved in together and while you love spending time with him, sometimes you miss living on your own which is why you find comfort in the silent mornings.

Chan got home pretty late last night from practice which is why he was in bed at 10:30 in the morning. It was a win-win situation, you got your morning alone and Chan got to make up for the sleep he missed out on.

You had spent your morning making breakfast and reading once you finished eating, and now you were sitting on your couch nursing a cup of tea and watching an Indian comedy show. Normally when you and Chan watch TV together, you steer clear of those types of shows since Chan won’t be able to understand them. 

But now with Chan sound asleep in your bedroom, you’re giggling quietly to yourself as you watch the different skits unfold on screen. To your surprise, less than five minutes later, you hear the door of your shared bedroom open and out walks your sleepy boyfriend, hair adorably messy.

“Good morning, babe.” you say from your seat on the couch.

“Morning.” he says tiredly as he makes his way to the couch to join you.

“I didn’t wake you, right?” you ask, concern lacing your voice as you card your fingers through his disheveled hair. 

Chan melts into your touch and responds, “No, I didn’t feel like staying in bed any longer. I also wanted to cuddle with you but you weren’t there any more.” he whines.

“Aww, well I’m here now so we can cuddle. Let me just get situated” you say.

You put your empty tea mug on the coffee table in front of you and lift the blanket on your lap gesturing for him to join you. Chan wastes no time getting comfy under the blanket and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Do you want me to change the channel?” you ask, drawing attention to the comedy show playing on the TV.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not really paying attention to it anyways.” he says and you feel him drawing small shapes on your body.

“Suit yourself.” you say as you bring your attention back to the show.

A few minutes later, you’re still snuggled into Chan’s arms and you find yourself letting out a soft scandalized gasp at the conversation unfolding on screen.

“What happened?” Chan asks, instantly curious as he peers up at your face through his lashes.

“Basically, those two people on stage are husband and wife and they’re talking about an argument they had. See that guy standing to the side?” you ask, pointing to the screen.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He said something along the lines of ‘stop giving her reasons to argue with you and instead give her a reason to eat green mangoes’ to the husband.”

“What does that mean?” Chan asks, enjoying listening to you explain things to him.

“Apparently women crave sour foods when they’re pregnant so the other guy is basically telling the husband to get his wife pregnant.”

Your boyfriend chuckles slightly and he doesn’t think much of the conversation as he continues snuggling into your side. But a few days later, he’s instantly reminded of that moment as he stands in the entryway of your shared living room.

Chan had spent the entire day in the studio working with Sonnyoung and the other Performance Team members to think of choreography for their upcoming comeback, but they had hit a wall. Soonyoung decided to let the guys go sooner than expected because everyone was getting frustrated.

Chan was excited that he’s able to leave earlier so he can spend more time with you. He didn’t tell you he was coming home sooner so he could surprise you but when he comes in, he sees you scrolling on your phone, mid snack.

Normally he would be happy that you were remembering to take breaks to rest and eat, but standing there in the door frame of your living room, he feels like he can’t breathe. There you are sitting peacefully on the couch with a small glass bowl next to you, phone in one hand, fork in the other. Skewered on the fork is none other than a piece of green mango.

As you bring the fork to your mouth, you realize that your boyfriend is silently standing a few feet away from you.

“Oh my god, babe! Why are you just standing there? You scared me!” you complain.

Shocked by your sudden outburst, Chan’s broken out of his spiraling thoughts and brought back to the present moment.

“Sorry, I was zoning out.” Chan feebly explains as he makes his way to the couch.

“Why’re you home so early? I thought practice wasn’t supposed to end until later?”

“It was supposed to end later, but we hit a wall and nothing was getting done so Hoshi hyung let us leave early.” 

“Ahh, I see. I still have a little work left to do, so I’m gonna go finish that. I should be done soon and we can spend time together after.”

“Okay, I’ll be here. Don’t overwork yourself, it’s not good for you.” Chan says with a small smile on his face as you get up and make your way to your desk.

Once you leave, Chan can’t help but wonder why you didn’t say anything about being pregnant. Were you not planning on telling him yet? He did come home earlier than anticipated today. Maybe you were eating the mango because you thought he wouldn’t be here to see you.

Chan spends the next two hours obsessively googling about how to support your partner through pregnancy. After reading a bunch of different articles, Chan decides that he won’t bring up the pregnancy unless you do. You have the right to tell him whenever you feel comfortable, and he figures that maybe you’re still trying to come to terms with it yourself and he doesn’t want to add more pressure to that. 

A few minutes later, you return to the living room ready to spend time with your boyfriend after a long day.

“Hey babe.” Chan says when he sees you. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine. I just finished work so now we can make dinner together.”

“You want to make dinner? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Chan asks, immediately worried that you could be overworking yourself.

“Okay I know I’m not as good at cooking as Mingyu, but my food isn’t that bad!” you whine, softly hitting Chan’s shoulder.

“Babe, that’s not what I meant.” Chan whines. “I just thought you’ve been working a lot lately and you should take a break. I’ll make dinner for us tonight, you should rest.”

“Ooookay.” you say, feeling suspicious as to what Chan’s doing.

“What do you want for dinner? Are you craving anything?” Chan asks.

“Hmm, not really. Why don’t you surprise me?”

“Okay, one surprise coming right up!” Chan exclaims dramatically as he saunters off into the kitchen, enticing a few giggles from you.

You couldn’t help but feel a little weird that Chan was being a bit too nice, but you decide to overlook it and enjoy your time alone on the couch. A little less than an hour later, your boyfriend returns to the living room announcing that dinner is ready.

Before you can get up to go to the kitchen to grab your plate, Chan places a plate of hot food in front of you.

“You made my favorite!” you exclaim as you toss your phone to the side to take the plate from Chan’s hands.

“I tried my best, but I don’t know if it tastes as good as when you make it.” he says sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, it smells great and even if it does taste bad – which I doubt it does – I’ll still eat it since you made it for me.” you say with a reassuring smile on your face.

Taking a bite of the food in front of you, you can’t help it when your eyes widen at the taste.

“What? Does it not taste good?” Chan asks.

“Babe, it tastes really good. I love it.” you say with a bright smile as you continue eating.

“I’m glad.” Chan says softly. He couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

The rest of the meal is filled with the two of you laughing at each other’s jokes and talking about your respective days. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty.

When you’re about to get up to do the dishes and clean the kitchen, Chan stops you.

“What’re you doing?” Chan asks you.

“I’m going to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen?” you say, confused as to why he finds this strange.

Normally when one of you cooks, the other person cleans. Since Chan cooked for the both of you today, it seemed obvious to you that you would be on clean up duty today.

“Let me clean, you sit and rest.” Chan says as he tries to take the plate from your hand.

“Rest from what, Chan? I’ve been sitting on this couch for the past 2 hours doing nothing but resting. What’s gotten into you today?” you ask as you firmly hold the plate in your hand, refusing to let him take it from you.

“I just thought you could use the extra rest, given your condition and all.” Chan says.

“‘Given my condition’? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m totally fine.” you say, slightly agitated.

Chan mentally facepalms himself. He told himself that he wouldn’t bring up the pregnancy unless you did and now here he was, bringing up the pregnancy.

“You know what, never mind.” Chan says, trying to brush it off.

You weren’t gonna let him off that easily.

“What do you mean never mind? You just insinuated that there’s something wrong with me and I need to rest, but now when I ask you about it you won’t say anything? What’s up with that?” you ask him.

“Well, I just didn’t want to pressure you into talking about it if you weren’t ready. I didn’t know if you wanted to share it with me or not.” Chan says.

“Pressure me into talking about what? Chan, you’re going to have to explain yourself a little more clearly because I’m completely lost.” you say, becoming less angry and more confused.

“The pregnancy!” Chan exclaims. “I know that you’re pregnant but I didn’t want to bring it up in case you didn’t want to talk about it yet. A bunch of articles online said not to bring it up unless you brought up the topic yourself and I didn’t want to pressure you into telling me you’re pregnant.”

There’s a few beats of silence as you try to process the words that just came out of your boyfriend’s mouth.

“Pregnant? Babe, I’m not pregnant. Who told you I’m pregnant?”

“Wait, you’re not pregnant?” Chan asks. Now it was his turn to be confused.

“No, and if I was pregnant, you would be the first person I would tell. I wouldn’t keep that from you. But why’d you think I’m pregnant?”

“I don’t wanna tell you, you’re gonna laugh at me.” Chan whines, hiding his face in his hands.

“Babe, I promise I won’t laugh at you. Can you please, please, please tell me why you thought I was pregnant? If you don't, I'm just gonna assume that you think I’ve gained weight.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just,” Chan pauses and takes a deep breath, “you were eating a green mango when I got home earlier and I remember you telling me a few days ago that women crave sour foods when they’re pregnant so I just kinda assumed. Ugh, it sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your chest. You were trying so hard not to laugh at your boyfriend, but you couldn’t help it. You just found it so funny that he would jump to conclusions like that.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh at me.” Chan whines as he lifts his face from his hands.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. It’s a little funny, you have to admit.” you say as you lean closer to give him a comforting hug.

“Okay, maybe it is a little funny.” Chan says as he lets out a small giggle.

“See! You can’t blame me!” you say as you burst into another fit of giggles.

Once the two of you have finally calmed down, you’re both reminded of the small mess in front of you and the bigger mess in the kitchen.

“So, since I know you’re not pregnant, do you wanna clean the kitchen for me?” Chan asks.

“What happened to ‘I’ll clean, you should rest on the couch’?” you ask, teasing him.

“Fine, I guess since I offered, I’ll follow through. I am a man of my word.” Chan says, determination heavy in his voice.

“I’m just kidding, of course I’ll clean up.” you say.

“Fine, but at least let me help.” Chan says.

“If you want to help, I’m not gonna stop you.” you say as the two of you make your way into the kitchen.

When you get to the entryway of the kitchen, you can’t help but just stand there with your eyes wide.

“Lee Jung Chan! Look at the mess you made! I can’t believe you! You dirtied every dish in this house!” you exclaim as you scold him.

Chan silently wishes that he didn’t take up the offer to help you clean. The entire time the two of you spent cleaning the kitchen was filled with you nagging him about the mess he made. But he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[mystic-writings]

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY –  you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs. 

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain. 

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place. 

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history. 

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-” 

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.” 

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.” 

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began. 

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so. 

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends. 

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing. 

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you. 

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday. 

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself. 

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music. 

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too. 

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work. 

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers. 

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern. 

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.” 

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.” 

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.” 

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.” 

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.” 

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands. 

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.” 

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?”  You nearly gagged on the words. 

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.” 

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before. 

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you. 

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it. 

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her. 

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day. 

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did. 

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house. 

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.” 

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it. 

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?” 

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-” 

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.” 

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.” 

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you. 

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later. 

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you. 

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

[rachelfloof]

Fanchild Redesign!!!!!!!!

I love him

MY SON

below the cut is an explanation of their lore and my design choices :)

I'm too tired to properly spell check and grammar check everything I just wrote so sorry if it's a little hard to read

Alright, so after Dark Choco leaves the sword in episode 14, Caramel Arrow makes contact with him again and they begin their relationship (I'm not going to get too into detail about how that happens because this ain't about them).

However, Dark Choco is still an exile, he still isn't allowed into the kingdom so Caramel Arrow is only able to see him during her time off work. Despite their difficult situation, they bake their son, Caramel Shortbread Cookie.

They aren't really ready to tell Dark Cacao about their relationship, so they continue keeping it hidden. This means Caramel Arrow doesn't bring Caramel Shortbread to the Kingdom with her ever. Especially since their child so undeniably looks like them, I'd be impossible for Dark Cacao to not wonder where the child came from and guess who the other parent is.

Post-episode 14, Dark Choco spends a lot of his time alone in the wilderness, and with their situation, it leaves Dark Choco being the main caretaker of their son. Caramel Arrow still needs to keep up her duties in the Dark Cacao kingdom, but she tries her best to get as much time off as she can, so she can be there for their son as much as possible.

To help keep Caramel Arrow's visits as frequent as possible, Dark Choco lingers around the outer boarders of the kingdom, below the cliffs of the Great Icing Ridge. Being below the ridge helps too since the blizzards aren't as harsh as it is further up where the kingdom is.

Dark Choco is basically raising his kid largely in the wilderness where it's cold and dangerous. Caramel Shortbread's fur collar helps with dealing with the cold. His hair is a little overgrown and messy due to being outside so much, and also Dark Choco just never thought to ever cut his hair lol.

Of course he has the signature white streak through his hair that every Dark Cacao family member has. However, combine that with the explosion of colored hair streaks that is Caramel Arrow's hair, his hair is also an explosion of hair streaks, now with white included. lol

The cold ridden wilderness isn't exactly the safest place to raise a kid and Dark Choco learns that the hard way. Dark Choco is a very skilled fighter, allowing him to fend off against any beasts that come their way. However, even the most skilled can fail with the smallest error. While fighting off a snow lion, the lion pulls an unexpected move, causing the beast to get the upper hand and attack Dark Choco's son. Luckily, Dark Choco was able to stop it before too much damage was done, but the beast still got too close, causing the scar across Caramel Shortbread's face that he now has to live with.

Caramel Arrow of course wasn't too happy with Dark Choco for letting this happen. She does soon forgive him as she acknowledges how unsafe his living conditions are, but it's the price they need to pay to keep their family together.

now here's more art of him

[ponderingmoonlight]

Heyyy! I wanted to say i rlly luv your fanfic and it would be great if you wrote a nanami kento one with prompt 6 🩵✨

There you go! Sorry this took me quite some, guess I'm too much of a hurt writer. But since 3 people requested prompt 6 with Nanami, I just couldn't let this one slide. Hope you like it though <3 I also added Promp 64 to this! 6. "I'm not crying. It's not worth crying." 64. "Don't be stupid, I'm not leaving you."

Beautiful mistake

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: You are in a secret but healthy relationship with none other than Nanami Kento despite being the sunshine to his rain. Until one day, you accidentaly spoil your secret to Gojo Satoru.

Warning: None, slight language like always

Your heart is pounding against your ribcage. The sun has just set, which means he’ll be here any second. You nervously fumble on the hem of your sundress. Do you look good? Hopefully he likes your new dress.

It’s always weird to meet outside of Jujutsu High in everyday clothes. Of course you should be used to it by now, considering that it’s been like this for two years now. Nanami and you decided it is best to keep your relationship private, far away from work. Therefore no one knows about your meetings late at night or the fact that you basically live at Nanami’s place. And this is just fine, perfect the way it is.

“There you are, sweetheart. Is this dress new? It suits you very well.”

The sound of his voice alone sends shivers down your spine, you greet your boyfriend with a wide grin and a tight hug. As usual, he smells absolutely breathtaking good. You need to finally ask him about his perfume.

“Glad you came”, you reply, face buried in his suit.

You love the fact that he’s always wearing suits, it definitely does something to you.

“You know I would never miss spending an evening with you. Here, I just couldn’t show up empty-handed.”

He hands you a gorgeous bouquet of purple, white and rose flowers, perfectly arranged and coordinated. You smile to yourself, taking in the delicious scent of lavender that now hangs in the air. Words can’t express how much you love the man standing in front of you. Even if he acts aloof and uninterested, he has a heart of gold. Suddenly you feel overwhelmed by your feelings, tears water your eyes. Unlike Nanami, you are terrible at hiding your feelings.

“I’m not going to cry”, you whisper to yourself, fanning air into your face to stop the tears from running.

“It’s not worth crying, I bring you flowers almost every time. But I’m glad you like them.”

Strange how your frequent bursts of emotion don’t bother him at all while everyone else is getting on is nerves. You truly are something special for him, the sunshine that scared away his rain, the joy that helps him to overcome his numbness. You are a gift, a true sweetheart, loved by everyone who knows you. Maybe this is the reasons why no one seems to even notice the chemistry between you two when working together as jujutsu-sorcerers. You are an absolutely poor liar, bad at hiding your feelings and the blush that creeps up your cheeks whenever you look at him. Even an untrained eye would be able to see your affection towards him – everyone expect members of Jujutsu High, as it seems.

“How was your day? Did your mission go well?”

“Oh, not at all. I’m glad you weren’t assigned to accompany me”, he signs and takes off his glasses.

Your hand gently brushes through his thick blonde hair. You can tell by one look at his tired gaze that this day was rough.

“Maybe I would have been able to help you.”

He gifts you a small but gentle smile, hands wrapped around your waist.

“Sure, but I just can’t risk you getting hurt because of helping me.”

“You know that’s also my job, right?”, you tease him.

“And you know that your job sucks, right?”

You can’t help but giggle at his response, the warm feeling in your chest keeps growing and growing. How is it that one man can make your life feel so much better just by his sheer existence? You simply cannot imagine carrying on without Nanami anymore.

“And you know that I love you, right?”

Your hands gently cup his face while your body aches to close the minimal distance between your bodies. Oh, how much you’d love to stay in this position forever, for the sun to never go down this evening. But you know all too well that tomorrow will be an exhausting day with a meeting of all higher up jujutsu-sorcerers that you and Nanami have to attend. It would be foolish to stay here any longer. But still you want to let these delicious seconds of togetherness melt on your tongue.

“Well, considering you already told me 13 times today alone, I sure hope so”, he replies before pressing his soft lips against yours.

You simply can’t believe it. The man that is holding you is the love of your life, the one you want to marry someday, the only one who has the key to your heart. Even though you are the complete opposite of him, even though no one seems to even be aware of the fact that you are in a relationship, you are absolutely mesmerized and obsessed with him.

“I hate to say it, but I think it’s better to get home. After all, we have to be up early in the morning for that stupid meeting”, he growls against your lips, face twisted in annoyance.

“How much I hate it when you’re right”, you sign while taking in his delicious scent.

“But that happens quite often. Come on, I’ll cook us dinner tonight.”

-Next day-

“There you are, golden girl!”, Gojo cries out in excitement as soon as you enter the room.

You gift him a breathtaking smile. In some way, you and Satoru are pretty similar to each other. Almost always in a good mood while wearing a bright smile on your faces along with loving a good joke and the company of other people. But unlike him, you tend to be quiet in your own way, only opening up around people you know and love.

“Nice to see you again. How have you been Gojo?”

The sincerity that glitters in your striking eyes is always a blessing for everyone around. You are so real, tender and kind in this cruel world that it’s sometimes hard to believe that you are able to survive in it.

“I’m doing better since you came here, (y/n).”

You giggle at his light-hearted comment, very aware of the fact that he’s just trying to tease you. Although you know that Gojo is very easy on women, you never felt more than sympathy for him. After all, you laid your eyes on someone else this whole time…

Oh, where’s Kento?

He told you this morning that there’s something he has to take care of, but it’s very untypically for him to show up late. Worry lines appear on your effortless features. Did you miss something? Did he maybe tell you about a meeting?

“Why do you look so worried, (y/n)?”, Gojo questions.

“I’m just wondering about Nanami-san…Normally, he’s never late”, you mumble while racking your brain.

To be honest, you’re pretty forgetful, without your boyfriend you wouldn’t even be here right now. But something important like a reason for being late wouldn’t escape you, right?

“Who knows? He never tells anyone about his private life anyway.”

Lost in thoughts, you slowly but surely fall into panic mode. Something has to be wrong. This behavior doesn’t suit him at all.

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine, (y/n). Nanami is a tough guy”, Gojo tries to calm your tingling nerves down.

But it doesn’t work. Frantically, you swipe over your phone, desperately trying to find an excuse in one of his text messages – nothing. You try to call him multiple times only to be greeted by his mailbox.

Oh no, this is bad. This is very very bad. Something must have happened, you just know it.

“I should now if he has something to do, I mean, I’m his girlfriend after all. It’s kinda my job to know these things-“

Gojo stares at you wide eyed, mind trying to process the information that just came out of your mouth. Did you really just call Nanami your boyfriend? This can’t be true…right?

“(y/n)”, he interrupts your babbling, your innocent eyes darting at him immediately.

“Did you just call Nanami your boyfriend?”

Your heart sinks to the floor, mind going completely blank. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so lost in thoughts that you accidentally spoiled your secret relationship of two years to none other than Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, please don’t freak out”, you beg.

“So it’s true? Oh god, I can’t believe it. That are some pretty fucked up new. How long?”

“How long what?”

Kento is going to hate you for this. From all the people you could have told about your secret, why on earth did it have to be Gojo Satoru? Your face goes pale just thinking about your boyfriend’s reaction.

What if…What if he doesn’t want to be with you anymore? Your thoughts are raising, eyes getting wetter and wetter the more you think about what you just did. This was your little secret, the only thing you had to do was keeping it to yourself. And you? You ruined everything by mindlessly telling Gojo about it.

“Sorry I’m late, the traffic-“

“Nanami, when did you plan on telling me about your relationship with (y/n)? You have to be kidding, right? How the hell did you pull her?”, Gojo blurts out immediately.

You are on the brink of tears, Kento's eyes darting towards you without emotion.

“None of this is of your business. Let me talk to (y/n) alone for a second, we’ll be with you soon”, he instructs the white-haired man with firm voice.

“Only if you promise that you’ll tell me every little dirty detail about this.”

“Leave. Now.”

“Urgh, what a bummer…”

You swallow hardly, your gaze glued to the floor while you try to blink away your hot tears.

“How did this happen?”, he questions, his well-polished shoes standing right in front of you.

“I-I…I was so w-worried about y-you that I panicked and…and then it j-just slipped out…”, you stutter.

“Huh, I understand.”

Your eyes dart up at him.

“Are you going to leave me now?”, you cry out, tears now running down your cheeks uncontrollably.

Kento tilts his head and steps forward, hand gently cupping your face.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not leaving you. Sooner or later, he would have found out anyway”, he responses.

You wrap your still trembling arms around him tightly, tears soaking into his fine suit.

“I’m really sorry”, you mutter into his chest.

It’s like a massive weight falls from your heart. For the split of a second, you really thought he’ll end things with you right here and now. You simply can’t afford to lose him, Kento is your ray of sunshine on rainy days, you love him with all of your heart and more.

“Please, don’t be. I should be sorry for you worrying about me. Be prepared for Gojo’s constant teasing though. These will be hard times.”

He brushes a soft kiss against your lips, a tender smile on his face. God, how much you feel for this man. More than any words could ever express.

“We’ll get through this together”, you reply.

“Yes. Like always.”

[another-lost-mc]

Thinking about it, in a world with an otaku!MC the brothers are kind of obligated to be nicer to Levi bc any insults towards him would be dragging MC down with him..

A/N: Oooooh. I wrote Player Two which is the brothers basically treating Levi and MC the same (as geeky weirdos) but MC doesn't really care because Levi's the best friend they've always wanted. Thinking about the reverse of that situation is interesting in its own way too.

LEVIATHAN x gn!Reader, 0.6k words, SFW.

Content warnings: some cursing and jealousy.

It started with a pack of candy. Beel picked it up at one of the Devildom shops known for importing human world sweets. You've talked about the brand and he thought he'd surprise you. He would've given it to you in private, but Levi was glued to your hip more often than not these days. He found both of you in your bedroom playing Super Smash Devils.

"Oh...you meant this was for both of us, right?" you asked, glancing between the pack of candy and Levi guiltily.

Beel fumbled through a lie to cover up his mistake and rushed from the room. He makes a note for next time so he remembers to buy three boxes instead of two (one for you, one for Levi, and one for himself).

After he left, you took a piece for yourself and handed Levi the box. You hummed happily around the coated end of your stick candy while you turned back to the screen to select your character for the new match.

Maybe you bought Beel's flimsy excuse earlier, but Levi didn't. Things have been strange with his family lately, but you seem ignorant about the changing family dynamics going on around you.

The other siblings don't tease Levi anymore when he talks about a game he bought or some random gacha toy he managed to get, because you're excited about it too. They don't want to hurt your feelings, so they try to keep their opinions to themselves.

Some of them, like Beel or Mammon, make an effort to surprise you with little gifts: capsules from a gacha machine in downtown Devildom, overpriced knock-off plushies of anime characters at the ghost carnival passing through. Satan surprises you with manga off your Akuzon wish list, and Asmo paints your nails while you watch anime together in your room.

From Levi's perspective, their sudden change of heart about his dorky hobbies is a double-edged sword.

He's happy that they're accepting of you now. When you first arrived, they initially treated you like a weird outcast—the way they used to treat him. You're not as introverted as he is, and they're making an effort to include you both in activities you might actually enjoy.

But on the other hand, part of him wishes they would just fuck off. You're perfect. He knows you've charmed them as much as you've charmed him, but he was your friend first. He thought he was going to be able to keep you all to himself. He knew from the first time you stepped into his room that you were the real-life Henry he's always wanted. He's the one that should be buying you gifts so he can hoard your praise for himself. You should be spending time in his room, or inviting him to yours, if you want to watch anime.

Why are you even giving them a chance? They don't deserve it. They were too stupid to realize how special you were. Don't you realize they're only tolerating the things you love so they can be close to you?

He tries to hide his growing jealousy, but it gets harder as time passes and his brothers keep finding new ways to insert themselves into your hobbies.

You notice Levi's foul mood sometimes when he can't contain the bitterness that laces his voice or the irritation in his glances. He gives you an excuse so you don't worry about him; he doesn't want to taint you with the bitter venom coursing through his veins.

You're finally happy living in the Devildom now that his family seems more accepting of you—of both of you.

He's furious that their acceptance means having to share you with anyone else.

[moonyasnow]

Moony's TWST Vampire AU

Part 7: Diasomnia

Heartslabyul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia (you are here) Extras

(listen I know what a massive contrast this is— it's just the only official art which shows the entire Dorm together)

Special warning for this part! It WILL contain Book 7 spoilers! Such as: Lilia's past, Malleus' parents, Sebek's grandfather, and some Silver stuff

This is NOT ORGANIZED lmao Literally just unfiltered thoughts and ideas, with some short writing snippets only sneaking in by accident. Literal brainrot stuff

Also some thoughts will absolutely be longer than others I wrote most of this in like 5 hours in one sitting

It will be in 8 parts. First the dorms, and then a final one for my thoughts on some side-characters' places in this AU

Basic Rules of the Vampire AU:

A vampire is unkillable until they turn someone. As such, vampires are rare, and usually created on accident.

Vampires can't die of starvation. They can sure try, and by god will it hurt, but it can't kill them.

Vampires can drink liquids that aren't blood, though they get no nutrients from it, but they cannot ingest food. If they try to eat normal food, they just throw it up, their bodies rejecting it entirely.

They can drink any blood that is not from another vampire.

Malleus

Malleus was one of the rare few to be BORN a vampire. It is theorized that his family is the one which all current vampires can trace their affliction back to. Though older than all turned vampires in this AU, with the exception of Lilia, he is still considered quite young as far as pureblooded vampires go. Millenia before modern times, there were many born vampire families, though they have all since perished. It just so happens that the Draconia bloodline had some unique power which made them able to grant some small part of their powers to others— hence why the turned vampires stemming from the Draconia bloodline are some of the few traces left of the race of born vampires as a whole.

Him being a pureblooded vampire, and the last of his ancient kind— which humans, through witch-hunts and crusades and pogroms, hunted to near-extinction— means that he is assured to be the last. For even if, by some miracle, he produces an heir— which would have to be with a human, as all turned vampires are well and truly dead, yet a human and vampire having a child is still difficult— that child would still only ever be half.

It is…a crushing weight, to have to live with.

An unspeakable sorrow, so much bigger than one vampire's, never mind a human's, life. An entire history, come to an end. Lost forever to the hands of time.

And Malleus isn't ready to face it. So he studies. He travels across the globe to any ancient settings he can find with any hint of having been touched by his kind. All in order to gain more information to compile. To be closer to the faceless kin he has lost. Chasing the ghosts of ancestors whose names he will never know, or if he does, never be able to properly pronounce, for their names were from long-since dead languages whom no one could possibly pronounce accurately, the modern equivalents having changed far too much to still sound the same.

He cannot stop to ask himself 'why'.

Because if he does, if he questions if his work matters, he will question if anything matters.

He grew up with Lilia's tales of his mother, of his father, his grandmother, grandfather… Tales of them are all he has. While he doesn't need to fear Lilia reaching the end of his un-life naturally in this AU, he is still aware the day could come.

Ironically for the man with the longest life left to live, he is the one who spends the most time running from oblivion.

On a more neutral note, as a born vampire, his taste in blood is a lot pickier than that of a turned vampire. Unlike turned vampires, who can subsist on basically any kind of blood, Malleus has to drink the blood of mortals. And even amongst them, he has a preference for blood type.

Lilia

Lilia is one of the oldest vampire-spawn in the world. Perhaps the oldest. He is almost two millennia old at this point. And he watched the last Draconia fall seven centuries ago. He was turned by Malleus' mother, Maleanor.

Though in a way, because of it, Lilia blames himself for her death. Maleanor could be killed because she had turned Lilia. Pureblooded vampires can still be killed after they have turned someone. Because it is, in essence, giving away a part of their power to another. If that turned vampire dies, all that power returns to the born vampire. But the same is also true in reverse— at least to some extent.

So, while he isn't as powerful as a born vampire like Malleus, he is very close to it.

With Lillia being so close to many mortals' stereotyped view of vampires, he often 'jokes' about being a vampire with people he runs into at the concerts he goes to.

He's the one of the 'old vampire guard' to be the most open to potentially positive interaction with mortals. It took time, especially considering mortals in the past hunted his closest friends and their families to their deaths. It took raising Malleus, and later Silver, for him to realize— as he, through them, realized just how innocent children are, and their parents' actions have nothing to do with them— that the current generation of mortals shouldn't be blamed for what their ancestors did.

As the mass hysteric fear of vampires has long since died out, and the vampires known to be living in the Coral Sea aren't viewed with as much hostility as vampires were back in in his day, he has hope that things can change.

And speaking of the old days...

Back when he was a fledgling, it was considered a massive honor to be a turned vampire. That meant you were considered someone trusted by a born vampire— born vampires had naturally risen to the top of the hierarchy at the time due to their sheer power when compared to other species of fae. Because a born vampire turning you still meant that you now had the power to kill them. It was a mark of close frienship, that the born vampire trusted you enough to share their power and near immortality with you, and to be vulnerable because of you.

There was no such thing as 'accidentally created' turned vampires, as born vampires possessed much greater control of their venom.

Also! Vampires are just one species of fae, which in this AU I have decided are rolled together of the in-game races which Malleus and his mother and grandmother, Baul and Raverne were.

Other types of fae, like the fairies who take over the NRC Greenhouse in the Fairy Gala event, as well as the dwarves from RSA, are still fae, but not vampires.

Silver

Silver is the last in an old lineage of vampire hunters. Think, the Belmonts, from the Castlevania series.

The lineage was believed to have been wiped out when Malleus' mother died, taking all known members of the family with her before she succumbed.

He's around 5 years younger than Sebek, at least physically speaking. Because, just like the 'didn't drink the last drop of poison' metaphor I used in Idia's part, Silver was somehow grazed by a vampire as a baby.

But instead of doing what it did to either Idia or Ortho, it just put him in the same death-like sleep as Ortho, however for much, much longer; hundreds of years. Though as he was a baby, he never noticed any of that time passing. And as stated in Ortho's part, as turning children just isn't done, no one is sure why such strange things do happen in the rare cases it's attempted.

And miraculously enough, he somehow managed to fight off the sickness that would have turned him.

It's unclear if this means he's now immune to whatever pathogen turns one into a vampire or not. Silver hopes that isn't the case; he wants to become a vampire when he's fully grown, so that he can have more time to spend with his family, who are all vampires— not to mention more power to protect them.

Lilia wants to continue the tradition from his youth, of turned vampires being highly respected due to the close bond with a born vampire— Briar Valley's rulers— that it implies.

Sebek

Sebek is one of the few half-vampires to ever exist.

Or, well, his mother is a half-vampire. He is thus 1/3d vampire. In terms of power, it's about on-par with a turned vampire.

But he, Sebek, of the once proud Zigvolt vampire lineage, is nothing like those fledglings. He was born a vampire, after all.

The day Silver is turned is one he fears subconsciously. For what would it mean, for a mere human, to come to be considered on par with the great Lilia? Sebek obviously knows Lilia wasn't born a vampire— he was turned. But he is old…ancient, even. He was there with the Draconias during the fall of their society. Not to mention And in a way…him not being a born vampire, yet still having so much status in what remain of the vampire courts of old, gives him hope that he, too, might one day be considered great. Not a 'half-spawn', who, he once heard his mother recount from the words of his great-grandfather, 'doomed the race.'

Oh yeah Baul is Sebek's mother's grandfather in this AU. Baul's child had Sebek's mother with a human, and she, in turn, had Sebek with a human father. I had to make it fit with the timeline while also keeping Baul as fully vampire. I don't make the rules (I literally do—)

But at that point, if his mother HAD had a child with another born vampire— before all but Malleus remained— it would probably have ended with a lot of inbreeding to try to keep their vampire blood 'pure'.

"Perhaps," Lilia had once suggested to him, "the born vampires of old's unwillingness to have children with humans is part of the reason why they have been all but wiped out. You only exist because you mother, and your mother's parent, made an exception to that widely excepted rule."

Sebek wasn't— and still isn't— quite ready to accept that yet. He grew up glorifying the old days of vampire-kind, rather than Malleus who simply wished to collect and preserve any knowledge left behind to know something, anything, of his ancestors. Sebek idealized it as what he should be.

[secfics]

my favourite starker fics, part 1

hi. for my first reclist in this blog, i put together my personal favourite starker fanfics that i re-read again and again. in no particular order and with some cw/dark themes here and there, here they come:

• maybe different, but remember; by RoamingSignals (@spider-mancan), E, 18k, 2/2 chapters

Peter is working at Delmar’s, sorting out tabloids on the rack in the front, and he sees Tony’s face plastered everywhere and then Peter is reading words and then he can’t read anything because he’s crying and his shaking hands rip the magazine in half.

Tony Stark…alive.

He saved the world, saved Peter, and Peter never even got to thank him. Not that it matters now. If Peter was a factor in Tony's decision to snap his fingers, Peter will never know. No one will ever know, because Peter fucked up and now he doesn’t exist.

• touchpoint; by RoamingSignals (@spider-mancan), M, 57’6k, 2/2 chapters

Peter lost a lot of things in Boston. When he lists them out, they fit in the margins of his napkin; his career, his degree, his motivation, his boyfriend, and himself. Not in that order. Not all by mistake.

“You’re just a secretary.” Tony tuts.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a secretary,” Peter says. “Your old secretary is the CEO of SI, these days.”

“Pepper Potts is the smartest woman I’ve ever met,” Tony agrees. “And she never let anyone call her ‘just a secretary.’”

• scaling the walls; by Starker1975 (@starker1975), E, 42’6k, 13/13 chapters

Peter is tired of crushing hopelessly on Tony, so he decides to create an online dating profile to meet someone new. Neither Peter (Webster01) or his strange beau (Mark70) have pictures on their bio. They decide to keep it that way so they can focus on bonding over things besides appearance.

Meanwhile, Tony decides to start spending more time with Peter because people always become interested as soon as you try to move on...

• fucking if; by Graceful_Starker (@graceful-starker), M, 9’7k, 2/2 chapters - cw: implied non-con, not between starker

Peter and Tony in a beginning phases relationship. Then the snap. Peter coming back to Tony, Pepper and Morgan.

• revelations; by Anonymous (#author has already arranged a ride to church trust me), E, 126’8k, 19/19 chapters

“I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?”

An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

• closer to a prayer; by LearnedFoot (@learned-foot), E, 17’4k, oneshot

“I think I’m dying.”

Peter stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, blinking. It feels weird to say it out loud.

In which Peter's powers turn against him, Mr. Stark is back and suddenly acting kind of weird (and by weird he means flirtatious), and it’s all a lot to handle at once.

• stuck; by Heathertastic (@heathertastic), E, 5’4k, oneshot - cw: Accidental Penetration

Tony and Peter get stuck together in a closet the size of Peter himself- and yeah, it’s basically porn without plot.

• Give Me Your Wallet (And Your Watch); by airebellah (@airebellah), M, 30’5k, 10/10 chapters

It was pushing midnight when Peter sent a text to his friend Ned asking for help with a chemistry problem. I know I'm doing something wrong but I can't figure it out, he wrote. He received a text with a picture of the solution. The elegant script should have been the first clue; the fact that it was on the back of a napkin the second. But he was tired, and failed to notice such details.

You misplaced your decimal when converting degrees to Kelvin, came the reply. Rookie mistake.

Gee, thanks, Peter replied with a roll of his eyes. Anything you need help with?

Yeah, who the fuck am I talking to, exactly?

• covet; by Anonymous (#author has already arranged a ride to church trust me), E, 33’9k, 5/5 chapters

Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

• uranium heart; by spqr, M, 11´3k, oneshot

It’s probably better, Peter thinks, that he doesn’t know who his soulmate is. He wouldn’t want to lie to them about Spider-Man, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell them the truth, either. Not when he knows it would make them a target for every villain who wants a piece of him.

When he has enough free time to feel sorry for himself, he thinks about how lonely he is and how much he wants someone to talk to--just talk to. But he doesn’t really have that much free time. And anyways, there are thousands of lonely people in New York. Peter’s nothing special.

• another life; by InColor (@incolorwrites), E, 9’3k, oneshot

Tony comes back to a world where everyone's moved on without him.

Peter helps.

• secret santa, baby; by orphan_account, E, 17´3k, 5/5 chapters

Tony never intended to become Peter's Secret Santa. He just sort of stumbles into it. But now that he is, he's going to take advantage of it. Tony's got one week to spoil the kid, one week until Christmas. He just has to make sure that his secret stays secret.

• your thoughts are my desires; by Sparcina (@zsparz), E, 6’2k, 4/4 chapters

Peter doesn't know that Tony can read his thoughts.

Alternatively: Tony gets intimately acquainted with Peter's fantasies feelings.

• peter parker, sexter extraodinaire; by Sparcina (@zsparz), E, 7’5k, 4/4 chapters

Apparently, sexting Mr. Stark by accident is a thing Peter does now. While touching himself. And Tony... Well, he probably shouldn't fantasize about Peter, but the kid's just too damn attractive and brilliant for his own good.

• just for tonight; by keenwonderlandcollector, M, 31’1k, 10/10 - cw: incest/father-son incest

While out at an exhibit, Peter gets into an awkward situation and pretends that Tony, his father, is actually his boyfriend. Tony goes along with it, and Peter soon finds himself enjoying it a little too much…

• from the bounty; by feyrelay (@feyrelay) & natureboy, E, 31’8k, 3/3 chapters

Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

(20k words of food erotica foreplay and 13k words of porn)

• better than; by unsettled (@unsettledink), M, 40’6k, oneshot

Maybe there isn't really a fixed point where it starts, where any of it starts, nothing Tony can point to and say, there, there is where I made my mistake, there is where I could have stopped this, there is where I can stop it from happening again.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been something Tony tried to stop.

(or: the one where Tony is going to be responsible for once, okay? He is!)

• worth the word; by unsettled (@unsettledink), teen and up, 5’4k, oneshot

Valentine’s Day is not Peter’s favorite holiday by a long shot. And it’s not just because he’s a little jealous of everyone else showing off gifts from their partners.

But it’s still really nice that an unknown someone sent him a gift this year. Or two. Or— okay, this is getting out of hand.

• above and beyond; by unsettled (@unsettledink), E, 12’8k, oneshot - cw: incest/father-son incest

Trans Peter telling his dad that he’s never had an orgasm. And Tony eating Peter out until the boy’s oversensitive and crying out “dad” as he comes.

• still use work; by LearnedFoot (@learned-foot), E, 6’5k, oneshot

“In the spirit of scientific discovery,” Tony adds.

“Yeah, the spirit of scientific discovery, exactly.”

Or: Peter has a problem. Tony attempts to solve it. To be helpful, obviously. That’s the only reason.

• a familiar stranger; by Starker1975 (@starker1975), E, 132,1k, 21/21 chapters - cw: incest/father-son incest

Peter's tired of being single, but online dating scares him, so he creates a fake profile to scope out the playing field before fully committing. He isn't sure what to think when he sees his dad's profile on the app.

hope you like them as much as i did!

[klunkcat]

Forget-Me-Nots

rise of the tmnt tags: hurt/comfort, post movie word count: 18.8k characters: mikey & leo, minor leo & don

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information.

It also just keeps happening.

read on ao3 here

This is a fic I wrote basically entirely for @goodlucktai so thank you as always my sun and moon for your constant inspiration <3 Turtle brain rot lives within me permanently and will never die probably

____

At the center of it all, Mikey doesn’t regret it. He knows how angry his family would be, has actually watched from the outside how devastating it is to lose any one of them for a single second— the four minutes and seven seconds after the Krang ship exploded and before he cracked open himself to drag his own portal into existence were their own swan song. He felt the way the world coalesced into a singular black hole of grief that felt impossible to move underneath. He knows this changes all of his family in awful ways, that it'll rewrite them all fundamentally, and the thought makes him want to scream and apologize immediately after his choice solidifies in front of him, but he can’t possibly bring himself to pick anything else all the same. It's not that this is different, but it also is entirely. 

He thinks the problem is, at its core, the fact that he refuses to regret it at all. 

Getting Leo back is an impossibility— Mikey reached through and pulled the millionth of a million chance through and made it possible anyways, because it’s Leo. Because it’s his big, stupid, self sacrificing older brother who never even asked them how they’d feel before diving off on his own. Because a world without Leo and his whip crack jokes and larger than life energy is one he can’t stand to be in a second longer than he already has. Mikey makes it possible, because there’s no other option he will accept. 

He can see it later, all the words Donnie used to describe the choices and paths he burns right out of reality, bright and bold against his skin; there are branches, there are branches of branches. Each one of them splinters up his hands and arms until he can find the one where Leo makes it back. It hurts, and even with Donnie and Raph at his sides, it almost doesn’t happen at all— in fact, there’s many times it doesn’t. 

Mikey’s not supposed to be able to do this, not yet— he can see the years he spends honing this in Casey’s world, all the time and training and drain it puts right on that intangible ball of fire that makes up all of them. There are so many worlds where he can’t figure it out in time at all, but Mikey blazes through those anyways. If he can change things he will, and he will change them again and again until everyone he loves is safe and fine and home. It takes a lot of tries. Maybe that should have been the first warning sign. 

It starts with tingling in his fingertips. Fuzz, somewhere just at the end of himself that by day two, when Leo is conscious enough to hold a conversation in Donnie’s med bay, he almost misses when it gets worse. The shocky feeling is just the adrenaline, probably he thinks. It had been a really intense few days. By the next morning, attempting to text Cassandra and watching his phone fall from his hands for the second time, it hits him that he can’t feel anything in his hands at all.

By lunch, it’s at his elbows, dinner at his shoulders. He realizes that there are whole conversations skipping past; he’s awake and then he’s in bed, then he’s standing alone in the kitchen and he thinks he maybe hasn’t moved in entire days somehow without participating in any single moment of it. His family won’t look at him directly unless he speaks— he realizes what this is, what the burnt out remains of all those worlds had left him with. 

He still can’t pretend he regrets it, even then. 

He should tell Dee, or Leo, or Raph— Dad, Casey Jr., Barry, anyone at all— it’s been too late for a long time already, he thinks. A thousand other worlds where Mikey hits the redo all going 180 on the freeway and smashing into one at hyper speed. He has told everyone, he hasn’t told anyone, he’s redone it all twenty, forty, one hundred, two thousand times— there’s one world where Leo makes it back okay, there’s only one where nothing else goes wrong, and it’s the one where Mikey can’t. 

(There’s a part of him that’s scared, he can admit it. The idea of never getting morning breakfasts, excited team hi-fives, late night living room sleepovers; a million never's of an infinite number of days he’ll never know, it’s enough to cave in the whole of his heart. It’s worse to imagine all those mornings without his big brother, knowing he could have tried.

Besides, he’s Hamato Michelangelo. He’s got a whole house of brothers who taught him about being brave. He’s learned from the best.

When Mikey was younger, his favorite place in the entire world had been the hammock Leo strung up in their shared bedroom. It had been ratty in the way that made it feel extra soft, wide enough to fit all four of them if they curled up. Mikey would fall asleep half thrown across Raph’s shell, arm outstretched to wrap his hand around Leo’s wrist. Don breathing slow and soft on Leo’s other side to lull him to sleep. 

Whenever things were stressful he’d imagine that— the warm cocoon that held his favorite people. The way the light from the hallway as Dad said his goodnight's would bleed through the blue-gray cloth and turn it red and purple and orange, too. The way childhood took time and stretched it out long and infinite, it felt untouchable. 

It’s harder to remember now. The warmth feels like grains of sand he keeps letting slip through his hands, no matter how hard he fights to keep it. 

Another moment he’s supposed to have. Another, and another.

Maybe it’s easier now with the choice already made to feel scared but, he’s somewhere outside himself in a timeline that doesn’t exist anymore and he’s alone. He’s realizing, curled up on the asteroid, floating through expanses of nothing, flickering through a thousand branches of timelines that can’t happen anymore because he broke them, that he’s not sure he’s ever actually been alone.)

It’s fine, is the thing, really. There’s a difference between the slow slide of your family being ripped out right from the center, and this slow blink into something else. They don’t even notice it happen. 

____

“Come on, Raph! It’s just a quick little trip around the corner. What’s the big deal?” 

Raph levels him with a look, it’s the highly specific and patented ‘exasperated older brother stare’ he perfected and should have patented when they were five years old. Typically, the look spells a whole lecture on the importance of respect and believing in the team or something else equally as heartfelt and long winded. The Leonardo flavor to it lately means the chasm in Raph’s forehead is particularly darkened and wearied with concern, and the most he seems to be able to bring himself to do is sigh. 

Leo’s not a fan of the way this whole thing shook them all so deeply, if he’s honest. The tentative way his brothers all lurk nearby has him vaguely itchy with concern right back at them. Besides, he is feeling better, really. Don gave him the all clear this morning to get out of the pseudo hospital bed he’d set up, with stern orders to use a crutch to manage his busted knee as much as possible. He’s a pro with the crutches already, he’ll have them all know. Maybe his back flip up to the second floor had landed a little awry, but he hadn’t fallen over. On his face, anyways. 

No one had seen it happen.

“Leo, Donnie said you were allowed to hang out in the living room. The living room in our house.” 

Leo waves his hand in the air. “Eh. What’s the difference really?” 

“About fifteen point four miles, actually.” Don pipes in, peeking around the corner. “Fifteen point three of those you are not allowed to walk.” 

His family — you gotta love ‘em, but sheesh. Overprotective could be their new motto. So a guy gets teleported to a prison dimension and nearly doesn’t make it out, people have had crazier summer vacations. They’re all acting like if he moves around too much he’ll collapse into a pile of dust on the spot.

He flops backwards on the couch with an over dramatic groan. “It’s boring in here!” 

“So read a comic then,” Raph says, still frowning but in a more pleasantly annoyed kind of way. “Or… learn how to knit. I don’t know— you’re not moving, tough luck.”

“You want me dead,” he says, unthinkingly to the ceiling. To his credit, it doesn’t even take the awkward pause or the tell tale sign of his twin shuffling his lab door closed to make him realize he shouldn’t have said it at all. It’s the type of joke they always make, but Leo still catches the hollowed out look of pain in Raph’s eyes even as he glances away. 

“Sorry,” he tries, just to have at least said it.

Raph shakes his head, swallowing roughly. “It’s cool, just. You— you went through a lot, Leo. At least try to rest, okay?” 

Fine. He sighs, overly loud just to be a pain and re-shift the vibes back into some modicum of the correct orbit. “House arrest. Unjust, I want my lawyer.” 

Raph’s eyes brighten, something less haggard falling away as he turns towards the kitchen. Bingo. “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge.” 

“Where’s Dr. Delicate Touch when you need him, think he’s got a law degree under that PhD?” 

Leo leans back, casually stretching himself farther onto the couch with as much feigned grouchiness as he can muster. A flash of orange catches the corner of his eye— “Ah, Ang! Tell Raph I can totally hang out at April’s. He wants me to steal all of your comics, you know. He said I should go into your room and take all of them while you weren’t looking. I heard him!”

He’s half expecting Mikey to gasp dramatically, or play into it by breaking down into an over dramatic eulogy and demand an apology from their oldest brother. Their usual bit involves a lot of Leo siccing Mikey onto the others like a particularly emotionally lecture filled chihuahua, something that Mikey gleefully falls into. The silence surprises him, mostly he realizes because it doesn’t. 

He peeks one eye over the back of the couch.  

“Oh,” Mikey says, blinking at him like he just realized Leo was speaking. “Ha— good one.” 

His baby brother seems lost in thought, which is typically not a good sign for anyone involved in the Hamato household. Leo’s heart shifts sideways and funny, instinctive reactions buried deep. “Hey, you wanna ditch out and join me here on lockdown? We can watch your favorite cup stacking videos, if you want.” It’s a momentous offer, Leo hates those videos. 

Mikey sort of just… stands there for a moment. Shakes his head, and seems to process Leo’s words in real time. “Oh— no, that's okay. Sorry, I said I’d help April with her art project.” 

Leo humphs loudly, crossing his arms— or at least halfway crossing them, the bad one shrieks at his boldness and he leaves it alone after a moment. The intent is there, probably. “Fine, sure whatever. I’ll just rot here then.” 

Another long awkward pause follows, Mikey staying still, staring just left of Leo’s head. There’s a very quiet feeling in the back of Leo’s mind he can’t place. “Angelo?” He hedges. 

Mikey blinks up at him, expression shifting too quickly for Leo to catch before his million watt grin is back. “Sorry, what?”

Leo squints. “Okay, change of plans. You. Me. Sitting here all night. Re-runs. I’m putting you on baby brother jail duty, it's a very serious role. You have to pretend to keep me in line, and then when the moment strikes, bust me out and go on a wild goose chase halfway across town to restore our former glory.” 

It earns him a tiny giggle from his baby brother at least. “Maybe it’s better you take it easy, Leo,” Mikey adds in, patting his head only semi-patronizingly, to his credit. “Raphie’s just worried about you.” 

Ugh. “Ugh,” Leo says, for emphasis. He tosses an arm across his eyes. “Fine, I’ll just wither away here on this couch all alone while you’re out having fun, whatever.” 

“Naw,” Mikey says. “Never have too much fun without you, bro.” 

Leo frowns at Mikey’s back, as he ambles off towards the half pipe sort of aimlessly. The sudden burst of earnestness is not unwelcome, really, or all that surprising. Mikey and Raph have always been his most emotional brothers. The way Mikey says it is despondent in a way he doesn’t enjoy, though. Like he’s tired. No, more than that— there’s something to Mikey that seems absolutely exhausted from Leo’s vantage spot from the couch. 

His shoulders slump downwards, lacking all of the usual flip switch energy and crowing enthusiasm their baby brother carries with him like a cape. It makes Leo feel— bad, he thinks. Nervous.

Maybe it’s one of those things Raph said that he needs to consider. Charging off into a death portal on his own with a tearful goodbye? Might have been a step too far into traumatic for his babiest brother. Maybe all of his brothers need to work through it on their own a little. He knows Dee has been spending more of his time in his labs than usual lately, that he’s working on a thousand and five back up plans for any scenario remotely like this ever again— as if they stumble across multi-dimensional horror show a-holes every week. Raph has been training extra hard, channelling as much of his focus into some theoretical improvement as he has been with hovering around Leo in case he keels over and perishes or something. 

Mikey has been— actually, he’s not sure what the guy’s been up to. Hopefully art, or skateboarding, although seeing him now, Leo’s not sure he’s been doing much of either. 

“Hey, Mike?” He calls, and Mikey pauses halfway through the door. The sight makes him worry, somehow. 

Mikey turns instantly, “Yeah, Leo? Did you need something?” Like he’d come back in a heartbeat if Leo really needed him, cancel all of his plans and stay glued to his side like Leo kind of wants, embarrassingly. Like he's just waiting for Leo to ask. Maybe they all need to work through a little bit of something. 

He swallows, pauses. “Nah, I’m good. Tell Ape I say hi, okay?” 

Mikey smiles, “Sure thing, bro.” 

____

The days after the incident in New York had everyone tense — news outlets are afraid to talk about it directly, hesitantly breaking news of clean ups and building reports. Their web of distant contacts begins poking through day by day— Leo got a fairly heartwarming message from Hueso that tells him that his family is also at least partially included in whatever footage was retained from everything. It seemed like most of New York has grouped them in the aliens category, and summarily proclaimed them all ‘returned home’, so there’s no immediate danger at least. 

Their usual ragtag crowd of other local mutants seem to know exactly what happened, more or less, which has granted them some pause in their usual problem-dealing. Something something local heroes, supposedly. Hueso even gives him a coupon. 

Casey finds his way down to the lair, then up to an apartment that April helps him set up with her mom and Cassandra after that, and learns how to text painfully and awkwardly with emojis, much to Leo’s horror. Leo’s bruises fade from angry black whorls to yellow queasy splotches, Raph’s eye gets a full all clear from Donnie, and the world keeps turning. Albeit, with a very intense and serious lecture from Dad about Leo taking it easy, slash being grounded for the next month to launch it all into a particularly odd spin. 

He’s been grounded before, he knows that’s not what this is. 

The protectiveness makes sense, even though it chafes at him and makes him grouchy the longer it goes on. April cancels said regular movie night at her apartment and forcefully shoves everyone into their lair so Leo doesn’t have to move, and Dad’s grounding conveniently doesn’t extend to April either. Mikey bakes all his favorite foods constantly, making the kitchen glow with warm spices and sugars. Raph carefully leaves pamphlets on proper stretches out on the coffee table, and Leo’s favorite blanket is always freshly laundered. Don, in his brusque way, finds excuses to sit near him at night so Leo can fall asleep being surrounded by people he cares about. He can’t fault them for it, really. Maybe underneath the bravado and the sheer amount of ‘not thinking about it’ that he’s doing there is a part of him that craves the intense levels of attachment everyone is giving him.

It’s fine like this, he doesn’t want to leave them either. He almost did anyway. 

Before the Krang, before Casey Jr., before the Shredder, the most harrowing experience they’d dealt with was hibernation instincts, learning how to cook food properly. Heat and avoiding illness. The beauty of having a brainiac twin and a dad that had navigated the world of finances and income before everything else, meant that they hit the ground running early. Maybe they’d all been a little bit sheltered, in hindsight. 

Something about growing up with yourself and your family and your whole world in your pocket.  Maybe you start thinking that maybe the world can’t touch you either.

If they’d asked Leo, he’d have said it didn’t matter— turtle luck, true to form and all that. Sure, things had gotten real apocalyptic bad end for a second there, but nothing permanent happened. They’d saved the day, Leo was fine, Mikey had cracked some insane magical connection no one else in the world could do and Raph came back. 

Bruised, sure. Scared, absolutely. Fine all the same. Or at least, he figures it should be fine.

He can see it in their eyes no matter how relaxed he made sure he looked, no matter how loud he talked. The what if, hovering over everyone, waiting to drown the whole room if they let it. Maybe a few degrees off from fine, but whole.

The photograph he carried everywhere now was starting to bend a little, just the hint of a crease where his thumb had pinched it too hard in the middle of the night. Leo figures he understands how they feel, even if he didn’t live through it. Somewhere out there was a Leo that had for a moment been entirely alone. They have time to fix it now though, he figures. The rest will fall into place.

“Whatcha got there?” April leans over the couch towards him. Raph is dozing to the quiet credits of whatever movie they’d been watching — the name of it escapes him, it hadn’t been very good.  They'd all jumped on it because it was something Casey said he’d seen a poster of once, which then started a whole conversation about how he’d never even seen a TV show, and how movies stopped existing because there'd been so little electricity to even play them on, and that had been so sad they’d all bundled him on the couch together to put it on immediately. 

Casey is tucked under Raph’s arm, chin tilted down and sleeping quietly himself; Leo itches for a camera. Don must have wandered off, his blankets still spread out by the foot of the couch— if he squints he can see the blue light of the lab filtering under the door. The light feeling in his chest sinks at the sight. 

Leo turns the photo towards April. “Just a bunch of weird looking mugs and some handsome bald guy, you know how it is.” 

April scrubs her hand across his head. “We should get that framed. It’s a good one.” 

It is, he thinks. It’s perfect. They have a lot of selfies from over the years, mostly silly ones. Blurry Leo’s diving away from angry Donnie’s or prank evidence, or the few Dad keeps in his special binder he thinks none of them know about from when they were younger. They have so many he usually doesn’t even think about any of them in particular. Sometimes the thought of that makes him want to lock this picture in a box somewhere, bolt the door shut and lie down very still. 

“You’re just saying that cause you’re in the middle,” Leo jokes. April winks back at him. 

Looking down at the photo again, there’s a well of warmth bubbling through him he can’t name. His family, all in one piece, grown one puzzle portion larger with Casey lately— he fits, too. Like a space they hadn’t realized was missing. Him and Sunita and Cassandra, and, begrudgingly if Leo has to play nice, Barry he supposes too and— 

Leo frowns. The photo looks… off. Too much space on one side. He doesn’t remember being in the middle, actually, he’s pretty sure he was on the side— Did he bend it too far? He squints, moving his thumb. No, it’s just, off somehow. Like one of those newspaper games, spot the difference, except there’s a pit in his gut like something important happened. April’s expression slow glides into confusion, but Leo can’t even say what it is that’s wrong, only that there’s a portion of him that is suddenly and abruptly convinced that the picture he carried to hell and back is wrong— 

“Did either of you want some popcorn?” Mikey’s voice cuts in, shoving a brimming bowl towards them. “Raphie fell asleep before he could eat his. Well. I kinda hid it from him.” 

“Oh, thanks, Mike,” April bends forward happily.

Leo blinks back— no, the picture is fine. It’s fine, there’s everyone’s faces smiling back at him, not a thing out of place. He is in the middle, oh. He’s maybe more tired than he thought, is all. Jeeze. It is late, he reasons, and the painkillers Don’s been aggressively-minus-the-passively implying he will be hunted down for ever missing make him drowsier than usual. It’s that residual nightmare problem he’s been having, too; night time makes him jumpier, like he’s on a time limit to prove things are really here. Maybe the sleep aid’s Dee mentioned would be a good idea, he’s just afraid of not being able to force himself awake when the dreams take a turn. 

“Want some, Leo?” Mikey’s eyes shine in the TV light, reflective and almost full white with it making him look almost the full alien New York is convinced they all are. “I put extra butter on it for you.” 

“Thanks, buddy.” 

____

The dreams always start out the same. He’s not in the other dimension, not yet — he’s on the ship with his brothers. He’s watching Donnie take a hit, and calculating in split seconds the likelihood that any of them will get out of this at all with dread so violent in his chest it feels like the world is cracking in half in front of him. He knows— he knows, he knows. There’s only ever one choice to make, and he makes it.

Then, sometimes, the earpiece crackles to life. It’s his voice, it’s the Krangs, it’s Draxum’s and Shredder’s and everyone’s tangled together. He’s saying goodbye, but they aren’t through the portal yet— he’s miscalculated the odds and there’s no one on the other side of the line. 

He’s alone even before he’s actually alone, there’s no one to even say goodbye to. 

Or, someone doesn’t leave. Raph stays behind and he’s so overwhelmed with relief and gratefulness he almost misses watching the Krang skewer him directly before his eyes again. Donnie can’t get a block up at all, and the hit launches him faster than Raph can catch up. April’s there and she takes the hit instead. Someone else takes his place, someone else figures it out first and makes him stay behind. 

Or, he never left. He goes through the wormhole and Casey closes it and no one ever finds him at all. Because he made it up, because he’s still there. 

One night he wakes up, and he doesn’t remember how they got him back in the first place. 

___

“Hey, Leo. You want to try running through some training today?” Raph leans across the hallway — Leo’s been itching to move, to do anything. His injuries have all but healed up, the concussion tucked nicely away; despite Donnie’s stern insistence otherwise, he’s got a clean bill of health. He practically leaps to his feet at the words and very aggressively ignores the immediate head rush that follows. He's been sitting around for far too long, honestly, he's determined not to lose an ounce of his usual pizzazz.

“So I can kick your butt, you mean?” 

Raph snorts. “That’s the kind of big talk I like to hear. Just easy ones today though, okay? Butt kicking is a next-month kind of goal.”

“Come on, Raph, I can wipe the floor with you any day.” 

“Uh-huh.” The silence that follows is biting, touché big brother. 

“I can! Few weeks off isn’t enough to unsizzle this sizzle.” 

“Another wholly scathing comment battle where we all remain interestingly unscathed, I see.” Don slinks from the kitchen to the living room, typing furiously at his wrist the whole time. 

Perfect, Leo thinks. Everyone together, the absolute ideal way to burn off the wildfire forming under his skin. Get two birds with one stone in making sure they’re all okay just the same way they’ll be nervously poking at him— turnabout is fair play and whatever, but he’s just as worried back. Everyone’s been… odd, since the Krang. He just wants it to feel right again for a few seconds.

“You too, Donnie. Get your gear, let's make this a full on Leo power hour special. My portalling is even better now; while I’ve been sitting around watching Jupiter Jim reruns I got some crazy ideas. I'll have you know it’s ripe with cosmic…. Idea making. Juice.” 

“Are we just making sounds? Is that what this is? These are just sounds you’re making.” 

“Oh come on, as if I can’t take both of you with one arm behind my back.” 

Don rolls his eyes, making a show of crossing his arms. It’s nice, actually. They’d all been too raw with nerves to be snarky or throw any barbs around. Sass from Donald is basically a gleaming thumbs up for ‘things are actually okay’, so maybe everyone will get the hint too. “Maybe I should check if you have a fever, you’re acting…. Oh that’s right, entirely delusional is a personality trait of yours.” 

“Hoo hoo! Fighting words, I see how it is, ‘Tello. Let’s make it a full bet then, three on one. Where is Micheal anyway—” 

He pauses— Mikey stares at him from the railing, kicking his feet happily from the ledge. Right, because he’d been there the whole time. Duh. No one else seems to blink either— maybe Mikey had done some practising while he was out of it. Really honing in on that mystic warrior side, kudos to him, really. 

“Hey, you wanna help me prove a point to these bozos?” 

He grins, the same way he always does. “Can I be on your team?”

Leo makes a show of rolling his eyes with a sigh. “Man, harshing my whole solo hero against all odds shtick there Michael, but yeah I guess.” As if he’d ever really been able to say no to those big green eyes. 

Leo shakes his head. Blue. Mikey’s eyes are blue. Of course they are— they’re gleaming and bright in the photograph he carries right over his heart, he’s looked at them nearly every day for his whole life. Silly. 

Maybe training today is not up there with one of his better ideas actually, but he’d rather volunteer to do Dad’s laundry than admit that now. 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Mikey asks, and Leo does not jump— he does not— but does feel his heart rocket directly into his teeth as his brother appears suddenly beside him. 

Leo clicks his tongue, playing his sudden jumpiness off and waving his hand dismissively. “Up for what? A nice easy warm up where we absolutely show these clowns up? Sure, afterwards we can get ice cream from that place you like, easy peasy.” 

“Ice cream?” Don cuts in with a snort. “You want to deal with that inevitable explosion, be my guest. More of a punishment than a reward, though, I’d say.” 

“Yeah, Leo,” Raph tilts his head, losing some of his easy playfulness. “Kind of cruel to throw that in his face.” 

“Huh?” He whirls towards them both. “Cruel? Me? What’s wrong with ice cream?” 

Mikey huffs. “You know I can’t have dairy.” 

What? No, Leo definitely wouldn’t have missed that big of a development, no matter how whacked out he’d been— Mike’s favorite place in the world outside of the pizza parlors was the ice cream shop by April’s that sold absolutely unhinged combinations of flavors. They went there all the time after practice, it was their together thing. Leo once chugged a whole twenty dollars worth of pickle flavored ice cream milkshake just to make Mikey laugh and— hadn’t he? Or….

Leo frowns to himself. “Right.” He shakes his head again, squinting at Mikey. “Doi, I was saying… Mikey’s shop, you know. The candy place you like. Jeeze. Can’t talk today.”

Mikey brightens up instantly, “Ooh, can we get the big jawbreaker this time?” 

“Course,” Leo nods, trying not to frown. “I’ll buy you the biggest one if you want.” 

He has the strangest feeling about this, like deja vu. Two of him walking in the same fun house mirror paths at once. Mikey skips ahead towards the training room and something— there’s something off— 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Raph interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder as he approaches. The Raph Chasm is back, great. “You look a little pale, bro.” 

Don leans in also, tapping even more intensely on his wrist tablet. “Seems fine. Temperature is normal, no signs of reopened injury. Heart rate is a little elevated—” 

“Dude,” Leo gapes at him. “Did you— did you chip me again?”

___

His dreams get weirder as the days go on. He figures it’s something to do with his brain trying to settle in, like it’s run out of plausible events and has to start throwing weirder and weirder potentials in the mix just to be sure.

He’s in the prison dimension now when it starts. He’s there, and he’s holding onto his photo, and the Krang Leader is approaching with shockwave levels of thunderous rage. It always goes the same: 

Leo is cornered, he’s alone. He’s waiting for the next hit, the next punch. He can’t remember if this is real, he can’t remember if he leaves. He knows he’s alone, he thinks it might be forever. Then, the Krang vanishes— he looks around, and he’s on a rock in the dark, an unthinkable distance from home. 

No Krang, no family. Miles and miles of scrapyard wasteland space, and nothing but himself. It’s somehow worse, this way. 

Then, sometimes it shifts. His brothers are all there, god— his brothers are all here. Sometimes it’s Dad, and he’s trying to take all the hits himself. Once, Casey. It’s terrifying to be alone but he always hates those ones, the ones where he somehow drags everyone else down here with him. 

The worst one is when it’s Mikey. He must have taken the hit from the Krang himself, he’s banged up and barely moving— smiling at him behind a swollen eye. 

“It’s okay,” He says in this one, it’s the only one where anyone talks. “It’s going to be okay, Leo.” 

___

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s hard to think of the shape of whatever it is, let alone admit directly; he’s forgetting things, is the sum of it. He forgot where Donny’s new second lab was the other day, unthinkingly walking directly in with a question he’d instantly forgotten and nearly set off the project Don was working on. He forgot that Raph has a new motorcycle, and that he drives it around most nights after dinner and that he doesn’t spend a lot of time at home. He forgot that really, he’s the only one that watches Jupiter Jim, and wrestling, and they haven’t gone topside together in ages.

It also just keeps happening. 

“Are you coming over?” He says, breathlessly into his cell propped up with his shoulder. The stack of pizza boxes he's carrying sway dangerously as he leaps down another sewer grate. 

“For what purpose?” Cassandra’s voice rings back. 

Leo shoves the latch for the lair with his foot. “You know, the big Re-re launch of the Luo Jitsu: Stars in Five Separate Dimensions, the game the movie the game the sequel. Duh.” 

“Do not ‘duh’ at me when you are speaking entire nonsense.” 

Leo laughs, rolling his eyes. Cassandra’s brand of humor has taken on a new thread with her division from the Foot. She’s apparently going to mechanic classes now, and sass lessons if these conversations have anything to say for it. “Nonsense, she says. Fifth biggest Lou Jistsu fan I know, and she’s pretending not to know about the largest night of the past two years. Sure.” 

The pause throws him off. He can hear her brain whirling across the line. “Are you referring to the biggest gaming night of the year when the new hockey immersive VR game becomes legal to play in four states? That’s next month.” 

“What— No,” he pulls his phone away from his face in disgust. Yes, it’s Cassandra’s icon, and her voice but honestly, this could be a bodysnatchers moment. He’s had weirder weekends.

“Then no, I do not know what you speak of. Should you like me to come over and resoundingly beat you into a pulp over video games, I accept.” 

“I—” Leo’s brain… skips. Resetting. Another thought lines up neatly in the space between. “Right. Yeah, I — man I don’t know what I’m talking about. Just come over and play Mario Kart or something fun. I have pizza.” 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but you usually have pizza,” She says, because snark lessons are working over time apparently, and hangs up. 

He’s positive for a long moment that he’s dreaming— that’s what gets him. The line between the skipping do-over dreams and these blips of forgetting are getting more and more unclear. He’s in space and he’s alone, and then he’s awake and Donnie’s new invention is in the living room, and he remembers that they don’t use it for a whole lot these days anyways. He’s with the Krang and he hurts and then he’s awake and his brothers aren’t around and it hurts anyways. He doesn't remember home being so cold, but it is and it's real and maybe Leo's just losing his mind.

It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information. He wants to tell Donnie, he should tell Don, it just— it seems like a much larger deal than he knows his genius twin could possibly actually deal with. He might be an honorary MENSA member, but he’s not a brain surgeon at the end of the day; it’s easier to go along with things when he can, until he can’t. 

It’s not even clear why he doesn’t remember, he didn’t get that bad of a concussion during the Krang events— most of the punching had been to his sides and chest actually. He’d been totally fine the first few weeks. It’s like a slow settling poison, whatever this is. He’s partially convinced himself it’s just a lack of sleep, or that he’s missing some sort of key vitamin; he really needs to start eating genuine meals instead of boxed things, honestly. He can’t tell Donnie, because if it is his brain he knows Donnie can’t fix it. He won’t do that to him until he has to. It’s his problem, anyways— it never seems to be about anything major at least. He’d caught himself nearly calling April over to the lair, as if she’d ever been over to their new place after the old one was destroyed. He remembers there wasn’t an old lair, April just hasn’t ever come over. He sets up too many chairs for game nights and no one shows up, because some part of him forgot that they hadn’t hosted a family night since he was six. 

Through it all, there’s a constant ever-lying thrum he can’t name.

“Hey, uh, Dad?” Leo calls, stepping into the living room. He’s shuffled the pizzas off into the kitchen, and remembered that it’ll really just be him and Cassandra probably. Again, evidently. Don is doing something in the lab, his old one downstairs, and made it clear after Leo’s last interruption he had to be invited first— a rule they’d never had before. Leo had always been able to tromp through his twins space as easy as breathing. Raph is out, as he is most nights. The lair is quieter, the thrumming so loud he can hardly think. 

“Hm, Blue? What is it— oh, did you want the TV for something?” 

Leo shakes his head, hovering awkwardly beside the couch and tapping his foot with anxious energy he doesn’t even understand why he feels. This is a bad idea, he thinks. The thrumming is prickling at him like knives pressed outwards, though, and if he doesn’t tell someone he thinks he might snap entirely down the center of himself anyways. It’s still a bad idea, it’s the only idea he has. 

“Can I talk to you, about ah— something?” 

He winces at his own words, and watches Splinter shift, expression dropping serious and worried all at once. He turns the TV off and pats the space beside him on the couch. “What is it, my son.” 

Shell, he hates this. Either Dad will think he’s insane or immediately tell Don anyways and none of it will matter. He bites his lip. “I just— I’m worried about Raph,” he ends up saying. 

Dad blinks, his face twitches into something more thoughtful. “I do not know what he does being out so late every night, but I’m sure he is safe.” 

Leo nods, pulling at loose thread on the blanket throw. “Course, yeah. I mean, that guy is the biggest worrywart I know, it’s just— do you, uh. Do you remember if he always… went out so late?” Leo doesn’t. Leo has been told it’s what Raph does and stared at as though he was the one out of touch until he found himself nervously playing along, but he doesn’t remember knowing any version of Raph that would leave so often. Any Raph that acted like couldn’t stand one more second of being around his family. 

Understanding flickers across Splinter’s face, his ears drop. For a moment, Leo’s overeager heart soars. 

“Ah, I see,” Splinter says, patting his hand. “You miss your big brother, is that it?” 

“I— well, yeah, sure, but—” Splinter clicks his tongue at him affectionately. 

“It is okay to miss Red, I miss him too. And Purple, when he’s locked away in his room. And you, when you’re too focused on your training.” 

He knows, he knows, it’s just that it doesn’t change even when they’re here in front of him. It’s like they don’t fit now, and he doesn’t understand why. 

“Blue, families can change and grow with time, sometimes the changing leads them to… wild new things like motorcycles and teenage rebellion,” Splinter continues, and Leo hears it, the softness he uses when he’s imparting parenting wisdom, and the brakes can’t be stopped so— “Red still loves you, he’s still your family.” He catches something in Leo’s face despite his own attempts to school it, and his dark eyes flicker for a moment. “Is this…about the Krang?” 

Crud. Leo twists his face up to stop from doing something stupid like sniffling. “No. That was so long ago now, pshaw. Anyways, I know, obviously, I’m Raph’s favorite. Nice to hear anyways, though.” 

Splinter chuckles, patting his hand again. “You know that he loves all of you the same. And so do I, Blue.” 

“I don’t— yeah, I know—” There’s no point, he can’t do it. Leo sighs. “I just— can you talk to him? About not staying out so much? We used to, yanno, have movie nights and stuff is all.” 

Splinter hums, tapping his chin. “Schedule your movie nights at April’s so I get the big TV and you have a deal.” 

Leo forces a laugh. Do they even hang out with April like that anymore? Imagining a world where they don’t is awful, inherently cold and empty in a way he immediately doesn’t care to allow. “Sure.” 

There’s a pause, the thrumming is still there— the moment’s passed though, he’d only make Splinter worry more. 

“You know, this place used to be filled with a lot more… laughter,” Splinter says, after a moment. “I will talk to your brother.” 

“Okay,” Leo says in a breath. There’s something there, almost. If Raph can spend more time at home, maybe they can drag Don out, too. Maybe it’ll feel right, and he can let it go and stop checking the front door, and maybe his brain will start working so he doesn’t have to put all that weight on his twin brother anyways.

The almost’s never seem to make it anymore, though.

___

It starts to really hit him a few days later. 

“--earned it from you, big bro.” 

‘You can’t do this’ He threw himself forward but there was that flicker again, the sideways pull and he was alone on the rock where the Krang threw him except it was just him and— 

‘I have to, I’m sorry. You keep leaving,,’ and it sounded like a plea, like a cry for help disguised as a big brave step forward, and everything in him coalesced forwards like he’d only ever known how to do just that. Like he’d only always known how to bend and soften at that voice, like it broke every part of himself just to hear it wavering like this. 

He wakes up from a dream and he can’t remember it; there are tears pouring from his eyes and this big hiccuping sob lodged somewhere behind it, and he can feel it— the heart shaped puzzle piece that’s been scoured right out of his chest, an essential part, something he can’t be without, but he can’t even remember what it looked like. 

You don’t, he thinks. You don’t have to. Just let it be me, I chose it already anyways. You can’t take that away.

‘I can!’ it echoes off the nothing around them, off the something because they’re in the air again, and everyone else was pushed off but the two of them, and he’s holding the totem to lock the door and he’s listening to the broken comms on the other side. ‘Look at me, it’s okay. I’m the only one who can. And— and it’s okay. Because you’ll all just forget, so it’ll be okay. You won’t miss me—’

Of course I will. He’s angry, he’s furious and desperate, he’s not sure anything he says is reaching anything at all but he’s more certain of anything that it has to. I’ll miss you more than anything. 

‘I’ve already changed it, you can’t stop it. I just— I wanted to say—’ 

There should be alarms, he thinks distantly, panic and dread and grief white hot behind his teeth. Blaring red alert rolling alarms, because the world had ended and none of them were moving fast enough, and he was just going to forget again when he— 

“Oh god,” Leo gasps, throwing himself off his bed— catching his feet messily in the absolute tangle of sheets and crashing to the ground instead. His hands are trembling, there’s a pained animalistic noise tearing itself somewhere in his ribs because the thrumming has become a black hole in his gut. He’s nauseous in the same way he feels entirely gutted, devastated all the way through to his center and he needs to get to the bathroom, to Donnie, to anyone— 

He feels like the floor has just vacuumed itself through an airlock and there isn’t enough air anywhere at all in the world, and he can’t remember why. 

“--eo, what are you…? I swear to— Leo!” 

He has his hands pressed tight against his neck, he can feel his own heartbeat absolutely rabbitting underneath but it’s real. He can feel it and it’s real. He’s here, at least— if that matters. He can’t remember if it matters. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere even with Donnie in the room, like it usually does. Because there’s nowhere else for it to go, he thinks nonsensically. It’s gone, the place it goes is gone. 

“Dee,” he gasps out, pleading for…for nothing, really. For anything. 

“I got you, Nardo,” Donnie’s voice is closer, his hands are hovering nervously around the heaving galloping black hole that is all of Leo before settling on his shoulders. “Up we go, okay? Just, breathe. In and out, follow me.”  He pulls up a diagram, an unfolding square that refolds, breathing exaggeratedly along with it. Leo tries to wrangle himself into himself, feel around the pit of nothing in his chest, breathe long enough to chase away the gray in his vision at least. It feels pointless, breathing through a straw at the end of the world— he can’t possibly keep his heart beating one more second, but it does, and then it does again. 

“That’s it,” Donnie says, his hand rubbing circles against Leo’s neck. “Better, okay. Keep doing that.” He sounds anxious, tense in the ice cold–locked up way he gets. Leo’s chest aches. “You’re not running a fever, no proximity alarms were tripped so— bad dream?”

The cataclysm in his heart is stilling, like it’s being put to sleep more and more with every word. Every realignment of real and not real— part of him is terrified by this, like it wants to scramble it back. Leo shakes his head, still wheezing. Nods after a moment. Pauses, and embarrassingly bursts into tears again in spite of himself. 

“Woah! Woah, okay, okay. Got it, no questions. You’re fine, you don’t have to tell me.” 

He holds his hand out— it’s something they used to do, when they were little. Don had learned something about otters holding hands when they slept so they wouldn’t drift off, and Leo had gotten it in his head that since they were in a sewer, it was possible they’d float away at night too. He’d held Don’s hand every night until they all split off into their own separate rooms when they got older, palm to palm, holding onto Don’s wrist. Even after they had their own beds, Don would sneak in if he felt like Leo wasn’t sleeping good; they haven’t needed to in years. 

Leo latches himself onto his brother's hand like a lifeline. This is real too, he tells himself. It makes the horrified part of him wail with something like grief anyways.

“Okay, alright Leon. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Breathe.” 

Leo tries to hold each breath like water in his hands, imagine himself filling up that space inside him. The idea is so instantly horrendous, a murky swirling bog where something was— he doesn’t know why— it chokes him into another sobbing fit for a moment. “Sorry, jeez— jeeze. I’m sorry, ugh.” 

He can practically hear Don’s eye roll. “Can we get up off the floor now?” 

Leo nods, shakily. He grips Don’s wrist even harder, but lets himself be dragged back into bed. 

“Want some water?” Don asks; Leo stares down at their joined hands and feels a spike of panic in him. It must trip something on Don’s weird chip, he glances down at the screen. “Ohhkay. Nope, nixing that plan, sure. We can just dehydrate.” 

“Sorry,” Leo wheezes again. He knows Don is trying so hard right now, too, or he would have made some annoyed comment about hating unnecessary apologies. He stays silent, squeezing back just as hard. 

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” He asks, after a moment. 

Leo winces. 

“Or, I could invent some never before seen and heard of technology and just dive right into that awful little brain of yours and figure it out anyways, if you want.” 

Leo snorts. “You have that already. ‘S called being stuck with me.” 

“Hm. True. Doesn’t give me all the answers, though.” 

He wishes it would. Don’s brain could probably work out exactly what to do  in five seconds if he had the opportunity to mess around in Leo’s fuzzed out brain. Maybe that was the problem. Leo lets out a long breath, ducking his head to nudge against Don’s shoulder. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” he admits, to the space between them where their hands sit. 

“I will refrain from my default response of ‘beyond the usual’ or any other witty remark this one time, on the grounds that you’re kind of a mess right now. Know that I did think it for the record, though.” 

“Noted,” Leo smiles, waterlogged and wavering. 

Donnie shifts, pulling his free arm up around Leo’s shoulders. They fall silent for a second, just the wet and choked off sounds of Leo wrangling his own heart rate surrounding them. Don pulls him closer, a half hug. “You know. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, the ghost of that all consuming grief still wrapping itself around his throat. Donnie’s fixed everything since he was able to hold a screwdriver, his faith in his brother is as unshakeable as his understanding of cool action films, as his belief in his family. He knows his brother would try to fix it, and would get closer than anyone else possibly could. Maybe he’s not sure there is anything to fix.

“What if you can’t?” It comes out small. 

Donnie’s arm squeezes tighter, steel in his frame. “I will.” 

It’s nice, he thinks. To pretend like Don’s got all the answers. “I’m sorry I went through the wormhole,” He says instead. Sorry I almost left you, he says with the way he leans farther into Don’s side. 

Don lets out a sharp breath. “No, you’re not.”  He isn't wrong, Dee knows him best.

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry, anyways.”

He can feel Don’s heart beating against his fingertips, can feel the sharp and bending curve of him at his side. Palm to palm so they don’t float apart— maybe Don’s grip is also tighter than usual. He can manage to feel bad about that, maybe, in spite of himself. 

“I’m used to it,” Don says, after another long moment. Subdued. As long as you come back. As long as you let me bring you back, he says with the squeeze of his hand, the way he won’t look at Leo at all. 

___

“Purple told me about your dream last night,” Dad says, looking worn and serious in a way that makes him look far older than Leo is comfortable with noticing. “Do you want to explain, Leonardo?”

They’re sitting around the kitchen table, and his head is in his hands staring down at the whorls in the wood. There’s a carving, he knows, just to his elbow that he and Raph had put there when they were kids, it’s just that for a moment he could have sworn that it wasn’t from Raph at all. He’d been lost staring at the cupboard for a moment with a dark, inkblot feeling around his throat until Dad had startled him out of it, looking at their old favorite mugs. He doesn’t remember his being any of these. He’s certain, for a moment, that his had been a hand painted one, lopsided by the handle. He can’t find it anywhere, though. 

He’d asked Dad when they’d thrown it out, and gotten a blank stare in return. 

‘The… the splotchy one,’ he’d said, panic lacing in behind his eyeballs with its intensity. ‘You know. I always drink tea from it with you.’ 

Splinter shakes his head slowly. ‘I am… sorry my son.’ 

A hysterical laugh frayed at his throat, he’d lost the fight in shoving it back down. ‘There’s a smiley face on the side by my thumb, you know. Don said it was ugly and we got into a big fight when we were like ten. I drink out of that mug every day, because it—’ He couldn’t remember where that sentence was going suddenly, like the words scooped themselves directly from his lungs. Evaporated. ‘I… I know it is. Where did you put it? Did— if Raph broke it, that’s okay, I can fix it.’ 

‘You’ve only ever used this mug, Blue,’ Dad had said, holding an Eeyore mug. Leo feels his mind snap in three places, reconnect. It’s slower this time, more painful. Maybe that’s him, breaking. 

‘Right,’ Leo laughed, squeaky and high. ‘Sorry.’ 

“They’re just dreams.” He says, like it burns on the way out. “I’m just not sleeping well.” 

“He’s been waking up every few hours,” Don throws in, because of course he’s been tracking that, too.

“Hey—” he tries, and catches Raph’s serious, unhappy face as he lifts his head. The way he looks frailer around the edges, exhausted the same way Leo is. Oh.

Raph sighs. “He’s jumpy. Confused. I thought…” He makes eye contact with Leo and looks away. “I thought maybe the Krang incident rattled him, was all. But it’s been months,” 

“My son,” Dad adds, before Leo can process any of that. “Why did you not tell me?” 

Shell, he thinks. Shit, for emphasis. “It’s just bad dreams,” he shrugs. “What’s there to tell?” 

Don snorts, crossing his arms. “Just bad dreams he says, as though regular disruption to your REM cycle bears no long term effects like, say, spacing out. Forgetting where my lab is. Dialing the wrong number when trying to reach me, your twin brother who literally programmed your phone.” Oh, right, yeah. He had done that. 

Burying his face in his arms seems like the best approach to all of this. The gnawing thrum is back, wilder like a firestorm in the back of his mind— it seems to get louder when he’s aware of it, he’s not sure what that means. 

“Leo,” Raph’s voice is tired, too. Why is everyone so tired? “You can talk to us, you know that right? We just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Stop being so,” Leo struggles to find a word in between burying his forehead father into his arms. “Reasonable. Ugh.” 

Splinter pats at his arm, comfortingly. He debates the merits of coming clean, then of feigning a sudden illness, or playing up some hidden head injury that miraculously resolves itself before Don can pull out any of his scarier tech. A wave of exhaustion pulls at him. “I’ll fix it,” Donnie had said. Maybe it’s embarrassing to want to believe anyone can fix this at all, but it’s his family, and this is the most he’s seen them in months and despite what everyone tells him, he doesn’t remember a time things were like this at all. He doesn’t remember a version of himself that would have been content to let it happen. 

There’s something there. An invisible wall he’s walking into while everyone else skirts around it. If only he didn’t keep forgetting what he was dreaming about— he lets out a long, long breath, dropping his head even lower until his brow presses into the wood directly. 

“I’m. Forgetting things.” He mumbles to it, shoulders high around his head. The silence that follows is long enough he almost thinks they didn’t hear him at all. 

Don clears his throat first. “Forgetting… what.” He sounds ominous, tight laced. Exactly what Leo was afraid of. He scrunches up his beak in response. 

“Everything. You, Raph— I don’t remember why April hasn’t visited. Or, or where your lab is. Cassandra doesn’t care about Lou Jitsu games, no one watches Jupiter Jim. It’s all— I don’t know.” 

Dad takes in a breath, Leo can hear him consciously making sure to keep it measured and slow.  “Is this because of the Krang?” 

Leo shakes his head, digging further into the grooves of the tabletop. “No, I — I don’t know. Maybe? Everything was fine, and then. It wasn’t. It’s like I’m—” Missing something. It’s like there’s a big glaring neon sign directly in front of him that he can’t see, some obvious clue like a protagonist in a horror film that the audience is throwing popcorn at. 

“Do you…. Do you ever imagine there’s like. A memory that you had, but something happened, and then you lost it. And you don’t remember enough about it to know what it was, but it’s like part of you knows that it's gone anyways?” He feels insane, he can’t look up at his brothers, he can only close his eyes and wish himself somewhere else where the black hole in him is quiet. “Sorry, that’s— I mean, maybe I am just tired. Just feels… different, lately. I keep looking at the front door like someone’s gunna walk in any second, isn’t that weird?” 

No one speaks, Leo sinks lower. 

What if whatever is wrong with him is contagious? What if saying it out loud is the thing that breaks this wide open on all of them. What if nothing happens at all, and it’s just Leo and his brain and some unknowable horrid thing wrong with him that makes him feel like half of himself is missing somewhere else. 

What if he’s right?

“You remember the other day, Raph? You said something about me reading comics, staying home from April’s and reading comics.”

“...Yeah.”

Leo digs his fingers into the back of his head. “I walked into Donnie’s lab because I couldn’t remember where the comics were, and it’s like I just, went through the door. Then— I mean, none of us own comics. Why did you say that?”

Raph starts, stops. “I… don’t remember.”

Don breathes, long and shaky. “I put a chip on you and Raph and Dad because I thought—” His voice is flat, quiet, and breaks neatly down the middle. Leo freezes, tenses on the spot. “I had this feeling. Like there was a problem I’d missed, like I hadn’t perfected something important. I drew all these schematics and they didn’t make sense— and I knew, they were for something specific, but I had no idea why or what. I have inventions I don’t remember making, too— I thought someone else left their things in my room but they all have my logo on them.”

“I asked April for tea,” Dad adds in, slow and confused. “Orange pekoe. I have never drank orange pekoe.” 

Don continues. “You told me you hate pro skateboarding the other day and I nearly vaporized you on the spot because I thought you were a clone. And then it was like, my brain just. Caught up. Remembered all these things that didn’t fit anymore.” 

Leo stares at the table, lifts his head up so sharply his vision swims, and stares at his brother. “Yeah. Yeah. Like, like you’re reading a new script.” 

Holy shit, he thinks. They all nod, slowly. 

“I thought it was me,” Leo says. 

Don shakes his head. “I’ve been doing tests. Measurements and scans— I can’t get a read on it so I haven’t brought it up yet.” He shrugs. “It’s… it’s weird, Leon. I don’t make measurement errors.” 

“But you have been,” Leo says, slowly. 

Don breathes out, heavily. 

“Your math,” Raph says, simply. Leo’s gaze shoots towards him; his big brother looks haggard, dark circles around his eyes that Leo hadn’t noticed before. “Donnie, your math. Why’s it always wrong?” He’s gripping the table top awfully tightly, Leo notices. White knuckled bone pressing upwards into the harsh kitchen lighting, like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His big brother has always been unmovable, no matter what was thrown at them. He was okay, and would figure it out, and would help them brute force things back where they should be if they had to. He looks... small, suddenly. Just a kid.

“Woah, Raph, maybe you should take it easy for a second—” Leo starts. 

“Four,” Don cuts him off. He looks vaguely haunted as well now, eyes dark. “I keep dividing by four.” 

___

“I kept driving around at night to find someone, I was so sure they were in danger. Raph thought he was losing it,” Raph says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. 

“Me too,” Leo admits. “Thought Donnie was going to have to lobotomize me.” 

“Easy to do when you already are missing a brain,” Donnie mutters. They’ve moved down to the living room — invited Casey and Cassandra and April over, too. Draxum, despite Leo’s better judgment, is lurking somewhere in the kitchen area as well. Leo keeps holding Don’s hand, seemingly unable to stop now that the words are out there, and Don hasn’t asked him to let go yet either. 

Raph glances between them both, tense. “Stupid of me to not tell either of you. Should have known,” he offers with a weak smile. “We’re always in this together.” 

Leo shrugs, “Sounds like we all did the same thing. In my defense, I thought I was concussed.” 

“So,” April joins in, hesitantly. “You’ve all been… remembering things wrong, too? Because— I mean, you said that you were going to get Casey to guide me down here like I didn’t know the way, and then. I mean it was weird…” 

“Oh thank god,” Leo sags in relief. “You not having been here before was bothering me so much.” 

“And your dreams, Blue,” Dad cuts in, tucked up in his arm chair with a cup of steaming tea he hasn’t touched. He looks guilt ridden too, in a way Leo hates. “They’re not just about what happened?” 

“No, well. They are but. They… change? It’s like a hundred different versions of the same thing. Sometimes April’s there, or Casey, or no one is.” He shudders, a flash of some dream he had crossing his mind vaguely. “I can’t remember most of them anymore now, but it. I don’t know. I feel like. Something important happened, is that insane?” 

Casey looks at him searchingly, he always seems so heartbroken by all of their struggles in a way that makes Leo want to wrap him in bubble wrap until he’s 30. “Not more insane than anything else,” Casey says somberly. 

“Do we have, like, memory problems? In the future?”

Casey shakes his head. “Not that I know of. You all had stories about how things were that were pretty detailed. We had to memorize new map locations that came through pretty quickly, too.”

Everyone falls silent for a moment. April clears her throat. 

“And… and you think this is all happening, because…. Someone went missing.” 

Leo turns to look at Don— his brows are pulled so far down they’re basically a flat line, pinched in the middle as he works frantically on his laptop. It all looks like graphs and numbers to Leo. 

“I keep dividing by the wrong number.” He states, quietly. “There’s three of us, and yet I’m accounting for a fourth. It only happens when I’m not thinking about it, like—”

“Muscle memory,” Raph finishes. 

Leo looks out at everyone— there’s a reserved energy, like a thick fog of some kind of grief pulled down across them all. Maybe he’d expected someone to react like it was silly, make some kind of joke of things, maybe it would have helped make it feel less awful for it to be a big mass hallucination on their part. Leaky sewer pipe, or something. The severity is both aggravating and reassuring all in one. 

“I kept setting the table for five of us for dinner,” Leo says with a helpless shrug. 

Raph nods. “Our training sessions— we keep leaving our backs open, and I couldn’t figure out why. Like someone’s supposed to be there.” 

To imagine it is kind of devastating in pieces and wholes, Leo thinks. Someone so intrinsically a part of them, someone they worked around unthinkingly, just vanishing like that. Without even the courtesy of letting them mourn. Everyone stays silent for another long moment, that veil of grief is heavier— they don’t even know this person, someone that left a crater so large whatever bullshit vaporized their memory from all of their minds couldn’t even be lifted fully. Like the planet lost its axis without them, like they were constantly bumping into an outline of a person without even realizing. 

“How does that happen?” Leo’s own voice sneaks up on him, he hadn’t meant to speak. Or maybe he had. He’s angry, suddenly, like shakingly, virulently angry— big red neon light style. “No, seriously. How— they just get erased from our lives like that? Without anyone even seeing it?” How did we not notice, he thinks, desperately. “It was one of us, right?” Leo turns to Don, to Raph, to Dad. “Like, like a sibling? And we just… what, forgot them? How does that happen?” 

“Leo…” Raph tries, holding a hand out. There’s an anvil in Leo’s heart, it’s sinking so far down with every step further into this reality he’s forced to reconcile with. 

“No! I— Come on, we don’t even remember them. There’s nothing at all left behind, and yet, because whoever this was mattered so much we still felt it— and that just happens? How does that happen?” 

It shouldn’t, he thinks of forgetting any one of his family and feels like his atoms are misaligned. The idea that any one of them could just be stitched over, skipped like a video feed; his stomach churns dangerously.

A chair drags noisy across the tile, and everyone's attention snaps up. “There are legends,” Draxum starts. “Mystic connections to time and space itself.” He meets Leo’s eye levelly— there’s a catch in them, too, Leo realizes. He doesn’t know why Draxum is included in these events, he made them, sure but he’d also thrown Leo off a rooftop. He’d been antagonizing them for months, and he’d gotten defeated by the Shredder, and they’d all moved on. There’s a gap in his mind, between that Draxum and this one; no explanation for his place here today except for that he is. Because whoever this was that they lost, he mattered to Draxum too, didn’t he?

“If said person possessed enough power, they could feasibly stretch across both the folding dimensions, hypothetically.” 

Don gasps, an aborted noise. “Like… a hole in time.” 

Casey freezes, sitting up taller. 

Leo thinks about his dreams, about being trapped in the nothing and not believing he ever left. Not remembering what got him out at all. A voice telling him that everything would be okay.

“It would take a lot of power,” Draxum continues. “Possibly too much. To change one thread in the thousands like that, I imagine such a feat would be felt across the whole tapestry.” 

“Maybe it already has,” Leo says, detached. Thousands of possible realities, changing and pulling in a million different ways— Leo and the Krang standing on an asteroid, a hundred different outcomes flashing back and forth on a loop, over and over. Looking at his own front door and waiting for someone to come home, even with everyone he loves sitting directly in front of him.

The last dreams, the ones he doesn’t remember— waking up feeling like someone died in front of him. 

He stands up, sudden and sharp— wrenching his hand from Don’s without thinking. “How do we stop it. How do— how do we change it back.” 

Draxum meets his intensity with a cool stare, holding a teacup in his hands carefully. “There may not be. I’ve never heard of such a way.” 

Bullshit, Leo thinks— “If they brought Casey here, they did it again. To get me back. That’s two times, that shouldn’t be possible either, from what you’re saying. So— so just do it again.” He clenches his fist so hard it hurts. “No one remembers how I got out. I should have died in there, with the Krang, right? We closed the portal, so—  But I’m back, because whoever this is brought me back. That shouldn’t have been possible. So we punch a hole through time again.” No one moves, Cassandra keeps his stare levelly, gravely.  “If it takes more power, we have the strongest team the world’s ever seen right here, don’t we?”

Draxum arches a brow. “A lot of effort for someone you cannot recall, is it not? It might put you all at risk as well.” 

It doesn’t matter, Leo wants to say. They did it for me first. He doesn’t care if it’s painful or dangerous or anything else. All he knows is that there’s a gaping maw inside him that he can see now reflected in all of his family where this person is supposed to be. Someone who changed their three to four, someone that made them have half-memories about movie nights and laughter in the lair and someone he misses so badly without knowing that his entire soul feels like it’s hollowed out without them. 

“Maybe this person wanted to go,” Draxum, crosses his arms. “You’d give up so much for someone you don’t remember?”

‘I just— I wanted to say—’

“He’s my son,” Splinter speaks up fiercely, protectively. Everyone falls silent. Splinter falls backwards a step, having leapt to his full height out of seemingly instinctive rage. He looks surprised with himself, then— quietly grief stricken, the same time as Leo’s concaving chest collapses like a burnt out star. 

“Muscle memory,” Raph whispers, agonizingly. 

It echoes around the still room. The hallways seem more expansive in the face of it— a ghost exiting the stage with a rush of air, or one finally being noticed. 

He’s lived in these halls for his whole life, packed in with his three most favorite people in the world to get by the way only their family could. There’s a scuff on the stone just at knee height by the entrance from when he tried to land a backflip on skateboard and broke his arm, theres lines reaching up to just barely five feet around the corner from it. Three sets: red, purple, and blue. 

Maybe now, when he looks around, he’s starting to notice all the empty places. Leo feels like his heart is squeezing through his ribcage with how hard it aches.

Leo squares his shoulders, turns towards his family— there are tears in Casey’s eyes, Donnie has stopped typing frantically and seems to be staring at nothing on the floor. The realization is rocking through all of them in differing stages of devastation. 

“My brother,” He wavers, choking back a well of emotion. “My brother is out there. We’re getting him home.” 

___

“Your dreams are crucial for this to work,” Draxum says. “We’re going to use them as a door.” 

Leo takes the tea Dad makes for him and wills his hands not to shake. 

“Everyone else will focus on Leonardo, follow that thought to where he leads you.”

His last dream is only remnants in his mind, but he’s not sure he could go through it again anyways. Good thing they’re changing it this time then, he supposes. Raph sits cross legged in front of him, closing his eyes with a deep breath. Leo’s hit with the horrible thought of losing any of them the same way, waking up and forgetting they’d ever been here to begin with. His palms itch. 

“Hope we have enough juice in us to pull him back,” Leo jokes, weakly. 

Casey sits beside him, spine straight. He leans a little towards Leo, bumping their shoulders. “I… I don’t remember him, but he must have been there. There’s…. There’s holes if I think too hard. If he was anything like the rest of you, he’ll be fighting just as hard to get back.”

The idea of some vague outline of his brother, an amalgamation of the two beside him, running himself to pieces lost in the dark is hard to swallow also. Raph clears his throat. “Maybe he just needs a bit of a boost.” 

April nods, plopping beside Raph fixedly. “And that’s what we’re going to do.” 

Leo looks at Dad, who’s been quiet ever since the revelation hit them all. Dad shifts, placing a paw on Leo’s shoulder— he looks tired, pinched, like someone closed their eyes and drew him with wobbling outlines. Leo knows how he feels, it aches all the same. He puts his hand on top of Dad’s. 

“Yeah, we got this.” 

Leo drinks the tea and breathes out. It hits him fast — at first, he’s floating in the dark; the difference hits him funny, he doesn’t exactly remember any of the dreams but he knows they start before the fight ends. He knows they never begin with him being by himself. 

It reminds him of a time when they were younger, when Dad had to go scavenge for food and scraps alone and leave them behind with stern orders to stay put. They never really did, of course. 

There was a day where it had been storming up top, he remembers the way the pipes groaned and rushed with the rain like growling monsters in the stone walls, warped by all the empty tunnels and spaces in the shadows. Dad had left to grab food for the next few days, in case any of the pipes did burst as the storm went on or a tunnel threatened to collapse. He remembers that Dad hadn’t wanted to leave them at all, he’d been nervous and anxious and promised to be back in an hour at most. They’d all felt it, staying bundled up for the most part instead of ambling off their creaking furniture or stealing the two markers that were half dried up with use. 

Don had been hungry, he’d had a mild fever, Leo thinks— Don had caught every bug that meandered through the grates in those days, before he figured out which vitamins they were missing and how much sunlight they needed. He remembers the way Don shivered, tucked in at his side. Leo had decided he would be the one to make Donnie soup, despite Raph’s protests. He’d squirmed his way out of the blankets, and taken a few steps towards their makeshift kitchen before the thunder rocked miles above and rattled through every part of New York.

He remembers the way that the generator they siphoned had cut out when he made it through the doorway. 

It’s silly now, maybe— his brothers had been a few feet away, he was still in his house. He could hear Raph calling for him, the sound of his big brother fighting the blankets and Dee’s dazed mumbles and complaints with it. He knew even then that he wasn’t really in danger. It was just that Donnie had just showed him the otter videos, and the pipes were roaring at him, and he’d never actually been anywhere he felt scared at all before. 

There’d been approximately fifteen seconds before Raph crashed into him, another thirty minutes before Dad burst back into the lair and brought the flashlights out from the side drawer, and lit candles for them. Fifteen seconds for Leo to imagine that he was completely alone. 

A much older Leo, then, riding the adrenaline off saving the day— holding a photograph close to his chest, comms fizzling in his ear— 

He’s on the asteroid, ah. This is familiar. 

He’s always here in his mind— the Krang stalking towards him, the light of the ship's explosion dancing like fireworks in the distance. He holds the photograph in his hand, because he’s alone, he’s so alone, but it was worth it. The Krang approaches, tail flicking as it practically curves over him in rage. He’s okay with all of this, really, if it means— 

“Get away from him!” Raph yells, and suddenly there’s a streak of red crashing into the Krang, knocking it through the rock. A flash of purple, and Don’s battle shell appears beside him.

“Could you imagine something more relaxing next time? Like I dunno, a boiling pit of lava? This isn’t nearly terrifying enough.” Don’s hand hovers over his shoulder, like he’s not sure where to put it for a second. Leo grabs at his wrist, overcome by relief for a moment before the words hit. Right, imagine. Because he got out, he didn’t bring his brothers here, they brought themselves. 

“I’m dreaming,” He reminds himself. 

“You are, which is good. My tech can’t really do anything special when we’re in a mystical mental plane, so. Do your, yanno, ‘thing’.” 

“We got the big guy for you!” April crows, he can see her backflipping off the Krang’s head, Casey swinging in to kick at its knees. 

Right. He was here, and something got him out— when he dreams this, there’s always things changing, always things that happen differently. He’s usually here alone, facing down the inevitable reality that there’s no more doors; it was his plan, to do anything to get rid of the threat, no matter what that meant but living it was different. It didn’t happen like this, he knows, but he made it out anyways.

He can feel his family around him, just like the kitchen and the dark. There’s fifteen seconds before Raph crashes into him. Fifteen seconds of him in the dark and— there was someone else there, wasn’t there? 

Leo hadn’t decided to make Donnie soup alone. He’d gone with someone, because… because his brother knew how to heat the soup up the way Dad did, and he was older so he could open the cans. He’d been holding someone’s hand as the room went dark. 

He remembers distantly in all of his dreams here, there’s always someone he’s arguing with. Someone he’s losing. Whoever his brother is, he’s been here with him all along.

“You know, you’re really not supposed to be able to be here,” A voice speaks up. It’s choked in that desperately sad and relieved way all in one that he knows, he knows because it’s— 

Leo’s eyes snap open. His brother’s are fighting the Krang with April and Casey and Dad and Cassandra, and he’s sitting at the rock with the photograph, except he’s above it. He’s looking at the dark, and there’s someone holding his hand. 

He blinks. Blue eyes meet his, teary and bright as always. “Mikey—” he breathes, instinctive, like the name is pulled from the very core of himself. 

His brother smiles a heartbreakingly grateful smile. “You’re really not supposed to be able to do that, either.” 

Leo whirls towards him, grabbing immediately for his brother as some unnamable panic crests over him. His hands sink right through thin air, but he can see him— god, he can see Mikey. 

There’s a light hovering orange around his brother’s form emitting a low glow, like he’s a stick on star. They put those in their bedroom, he remembers suddenly. They had them on the ceiling because Mikey had been afraid of the dark, Leo had carefully climbed all the way up on top of the rickety bunk bed and glued them all on without asking Dad, just to make sure Mikey wasn’t scared. He could still see the outlines of them years later. 

“How— Mikey, what happened, I— oh my god, I forgot you—” How did he let that happen, how could he? His only baby brother, their Angelo. “I’m so sorry.” 

Mikey shakes his head, he’s still smiling even though there’s a pinch to his face that Leo immediately can’t stand. “You didn’t, I made you forget. It’s okay Leo.” 

“It’s not! I— it was so messed up without you, I— Raph keeps ditching us and Dad’s tired and, and nobody reads comics anymore!”

Mikey laughs, wet and sad, and it’s still the best thing Leo’s ever heard. He can’t believe he went months without remembering it. When they get back, he’s going to put on all of Mikey’s favorite stupid videos and listen to him laugh for hours just to make sure he remembers it exactly right every day for the rest of their lives. 

Leo barrels forward, still trying to grab any part of his brother; he’s like sand, he’s like water, the pieces of him are streaming through Leo’s finger tips. “It’ll be okay now though, we— Raph will stay in if you’re here, and Don’s stuff’s in your room, but we can move it. He’ll make you a bigger room if you want, you know he will—” 

“Leo,” Mikey cuts in, carefully. Hedging. Leo’s heart crashes through into nothing, he swallows roughly. 

“No,” He tries for a laugh, he remembers this now. He knows what Mikey is going to say. “You’re wrong, stop it. You said— you told me that it was the only way, that we’d all forget.” 

Mikey’s shoulders lift and drop, slow and tired. “You did. It’s okay.” 

“It’s as far away from okay as it can possibly be! You said we wouldn’t miss you, but I did, Mike. I did anyways, we all did. We knew— there was this giant hole right in the middle of us. It shouldn’t be possible, you said it yourself— that means something, I know it does. So— stop trying to tell me to leave or, or whatever else you’re thinking. I’m not going anywhere without you, right now.” 

“I missed you,” Mikey’s crying now which activates every ounce of dread left in him. He looks exhausted, pale and drawn out even with the strange glow.  “Leo, I’ve been trying, you have to believe me.”

Leo shakes his head, furious with heartbreak. “Try harder, then!” His fists clench. He’s not having this same conversation again, he’s not waking up one more time feeling like the world just ended in front of him. He’s not doing this without Mikey, it’s not happening. “I’ll just keep coming back, you know I will. You see that down there?” He gestures at their family, fighting the Krang that isn’t even here anymore, just so Leo won’t have to face it by himself. “They’re not giving up on you. I’m not giving up. I won’t ever, Ang. Don’t ask me to.” 

“Leo—” He says with a sigh, like the decisions already been made. 

“Mikey, stop,” He practically growls, panicking; something crashes behind him, down below where the fights going, he doesn’t look. He refuses to take his eyes off Mikey for a second in case he decides to fade away again. There has to be something there. There’s something to this, he knows there is. Since Leo was small, there’s been a constant he’s held close. It’s proven itself over and over again; when Raph fought through the Krang control, when their Dad gave up the world to save them and they saved it too, every time his brothers pulled through the impossible. Together, they’re stronger than anything— he knows this, he knows it. Mikey put a hole in the world to keep Leo safe. The universe rewrote itself because he made it change, and it only took them a month or two to see the threads anyways. The thrum in him is louder again, but it feels tethered somehow here. Like he could wrap himself around the line of it in his chest and pull. 

“We’ll keep remembering, as long as it takes, you know we will. It doesn’t matter how many times we forget, we’ll always remember you I swear—  Michelangelo, you’re my only baby brother, you think something as stupid as the universe can take you from me?” 

The waterlogged smile he gets could power the sun, he’s sure of it. He leans his head forward, where their foreheads would touch if he could. 

“You have to come back. I don’t care what we have to fight, we’re getting our little brother home.” 

“I want to, Leo, I just— I don’t know how. Not without losing you.”

He wants to say he’d do it, he’d jump right into the black hole to switch places but he remembers how this always went. Mikey learned it from him, from Raph, from their Dad, after all. It wouldn’t fix anything to lose himself either— maybe that’s the lesson at the core here. Leo was never alone on the asteroid, because his baby brother was breaking through space to get to him. And Mikey should never be alone here.

“It’s okay, Angelo, I—” He swallows again, Mikey looks so, so tired. He’s been here for months, Leo realizes, watching them all skip over him and time rewrite without him—  He has an idea, maybe it’ll break everything but he would. For Mikey, he would. “When have we ever played by the rules, hey? Mad Dogs make our own path, right?” 

He'd do anything for his little brother, including break the universe back. Without hesitating, watching Mikey's expression shift from sad to confused, and just that touch of hopeful, he grabs that thread in him, the one that’s been bright and loud and constant for months, and he pulls. 

___

There’s a thunderstorm somewhere far enough— Mikey can hear it in the pipes, in the walls. He’d only seen the sky when it was like this once, rolling gray and dark with thick bolts of lightning scattering apart; through the sewer grates it had looked almost like TV static, far away and strange. It’s loud up there and down here, the water rushing past all the chunks of stone that make up their home and away. 

Leo doesn’t like it, Mikey knows. Every time it storms, his eyes get more white than dark. All big and round and alert, and he jumps at everything. He thinks Mikey doesn’t notice. 

Raphie says it's okay to be afraid of things, like going up top because it's dangerous and they can’t run away or hide good enough yet to be safe. Raph’s afraid of the little dolls that they sometimes find washed up at the bottom of tunnels, he says they have empty eyes and it makes him uneasy; Donnie says Raphie watched a movie on TV that he shouldn’t have. Mikey thinks he’s probably afraid of the monsters in the tunnels, even though Donnie says they aren’t real— he’s heard them, though. He’s sure of it. Donnie also says that people think his brothers are the monsters, which is silly. 

Donnie’s afraid of a big word Mikey never remembers— he says the sun will burn out one day like it runs out of juice and everything will freeze like an icicle forever. He says this like its obvious, but he spends a lot of time reading about it anyways like he can make it go forever if he tries. Mikey thinks he could, Dee made their TV work so it’s probably possible he can do anything. 

Mikey’s not sure what Leo’s afraid of. He knows the water is loud and sounds like the monsters are just outside the doors sometimes, and that they had to leave their old house because there was a pipe that was too old in a wall and it made all their food wet. Leo says he’s not afraid of water, though, and he cannonballs in as big and bright as Raphie whenever they swim in the big water spot down the way. Leo also says monsters aren’t real, and that he’d chase all of them off for Mikey if they were, and he doesn’t think Leo could do any of that if he was scared of them. 

He’s still jumpy when it’s stormy out, though, and never wants to go too far from their room when Dad leaves to find food or things they need. It sure seems like Leo is afraid of something, but Mikey knows his brothers and he knows that Leo is brave and funny and sometimes sneaks cookies from the top shelf for him even when he’s not supposed to. Leo’s not afraid, because it’s Mikey who’s always afraid. 

When Mikey was convinced there was a monster in their bathroom and had been too terrified to run and get Dad, Leo was the one who’d picked up his practice katana and charged in yelling. When Mikey and Leo had gotten stuck in the closet while they’d been playing hide and seek, Leo was the one who started telling him a big dramatic story so it would stop feeling so small. 

It is okay to be scared, but Leo never is. 

“Leo?” He calls— he’s too small to grab the big light, the one Dad says they should only use in emergencies, but it’s dark and Dad went to grab something outside, and Donnie’s been sick so he can’t fix it like he usually does. He thinks this is maybe an emergency. 

Mikey wasn’t supposed to even be away from his brothers when Dad went outside, but Leo had said he’d be right back before the lights went out and Raphie had asked him to check on him. The water is loud in the walls. 

“Leo? I— Raphie says to come back,” He tries again. His voice only wavers a little, and he’s pretty proud because he thinks he might actually be very scared standing in the dark by himself. He doesn’t remember their living room being so big, or the kitchen being so far away, but it feels like miles and miles. It’s cold out here, too. 

Something rattles around the corner near the kitchen. Mikey jumps before realizing it’s probably Leo— sometimes he plays pranks like that, hiding around a corner to jump out. He thinks it’s funny how loud Raph and Mikey will yell, but it’s not. Mikey made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t scream anymore so Leo would stop doing it— he squares his shoulders, and balls up his fists as best as he can. “It’s okay to be afraid,” Mikey tells himself softly.  

Donnie says being scared of the dark is natural, that it’s some behind the brain thought that means other turtles survived longer. Being nervous was helpful, once. Him and his brothers are going to be ninjas soon though, and ninjas weren’t scared or nervous, they were careful. Dad always says that, to be careful and sure. Mikey tries to walk more slowly, quietly— not because there are ghosts waiting for him, but because his stinky older brother that likes to scare him might be. And Mikey isn’t scared, because he’s like Leo. 

The kitchen is strange in the dark, it’s wide and tall, and Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how high the ceiling goes. There’s an extra splotch of darkness at the very top, he imagines as a big bug waiting for him, and swallows nervously. 

He manages a whisper. “Leo…?” 

He imagines a different time, coming through the dark kitchen. Maybe he’d help Leo with the soup because Mikey wasn’t old enough to use the can opener or reach all the pans, but he watched Dad make it real close, and he knows you have to turn the stove handle to the right dot to make it heat up best. Maybe Leo would be here, and he’d jump out at Mikey and he’d be brave enough to not flinch, and Leo would ruffle him on the head the way he does. 

“Um,” He swallows again, willing himself not to cry as he takes in the empty room around him. The pots and pans look menacing hanging above him like this, like teeth waiting to fall, and the splotch on the ceiling is moving he’s sure of it. The rush of the water seems louder, too, like it knows Mikey’s here and his brothers can’t find him because it’s too dark, and Dad isn’t home to fix it. “This isn’t funny, Leo.” 

Maybe none of them happen, because Mikey is in the kitchen in the dark, and he’s waiting for Leo and he’s scared, and there’s no Leo at all. He turns to look for the door, to go back and wait with his brothers— it’s too dark, suddenly, to see where the door is at all. A pipe groans, or maybe a monster growls, and he squeaks, throwing himself at the nearest wall. He tucks himself in small, holding his knees close. After a moment, nothing moves— another moment, another nothing. 

The room is darker now, he can’t even see the splotch on the ceiling. He’s not sure he’s in the kitchen at all. 

“I’m lost,” He says to his knees, and presses his face into them to hold himself smaller. 

Dad will be home, and he’ll turn the lights on, and everyone will make fun of Mikey for being so scared, and Leo will pop out of the corner he’s hiding in and maybe Mikey will even cry. It’s okay if they make fun of him, as long as it's not dark anymore. As long as he stops being alone. 

He thinks he’s maybe been alone for a long time. 

“--key! Mikey, hold on!” 

Mikey blinks up, around— that sounded like— 

“Mikey, is that you?” 

He jumps, the kitchen— he can see it again— it’s still dark, but if he squints, he thinks he can see a figure on the other side, by the table. 

“...Leo?” 

The figure moves, uncurling itself from underneath the chair legs and shakily standing up. Mikey manages a brave shuffle closer as his eyes try to adjust— it is Leo, rubbing at his eyes fiercely and clearing his throat. “Jeeze, Mike. Way to sneak up on a guy.” 

Mikey almost doesn’t move for a second, feeling strangely out of place. “Mike?” Leo says, nervously, and all of the neurons in him rewire with a sharp burst in his chest as he scrambles forwards, throwing himself into his brother's arms. 

“It was dark! And— I couldn’t find you!” 

Leo’s hand comes up to hold the back of Mikey’s head, like he always does. “Hey— shh. Angie, it’s okay, hey? I've got you, always got you.” 

Mikey leans back, and scrubs at his eyes, trying to glare as fiercely as he can at his big brother in spite of the tears. “I was calling for you, and— and you couldn’t hear me!” Leo winces, something sheepish lacing across his face. There’s something else too, Mikey can’t read it so it doesn’t matter he figures. Leo always tells him, he always listens. 

“I heard you, I promise,” He holds Mikey closer for a second. “Sorry it took me a while— I always heard you.” 

He doesn’t know what that means but it appeases something in him anyways, he squeezes his brother as hard as he can. “Don’t go off on your own ever again,” Mikey tells him, muffled into his chest. “You gotta take me with you, too.” 

Leo doesn’t say anything for a long moment, humming quietly as he rubs Mikey’s shell. “I’m here now, hey? Not going anywhere, you’re not getting rid of me.” 

That’s good, he thinks. That’s where he should be. Here and nowhere else. Mikey’s not brave enough to be alone without him. 

He feels embarrassment wring through him. “I was scared,” He confesses, apologetic. Leo will probably tease him for it, when it’s light again. He’ll probably tell Raph like its a joke, but then stick more glow stars on the ceiling for him anyways. 

“Me too,” Leo says, quietly. “I was. I was really scared.”

Oh, Mikey blinks, rewires his thoughts. “Don’t have to be scared,” He tells Leo, because it’s what Dad says to him, too. “I can be brave and we can take turns.”

Leo laughs, gentle and quiet, his hug gets so tight Mikey debates telling him to let go, but— he’s shaking, a little, like he’s breathing all funny. He doesn’t want to tell Leo to stop if it helps. 

“Okay, little brother.” 

Mikey leans back, and takes Leo’s hand in his. He looks around the kitchen— it seems smaller, now.

“We can go now,” He says, and he’s not sure why. Leo’s mouth is flat and terse like it is when he’s really sad, but he manages a small smile anyways. 

It’s not as many steps to cross the room, and the splotch on the ceiling is just a shadow, really. He pulls Leo along behind him, squaring himself as bravely as he can. It’s easy, with Leo’s hand in his. It’s just a silly room, they make cereal bowls in the morning and sometimes Dad lets them put salt in the pot for spaghetti, and Leo makes silly faces when they clean dishes to make it fun. It’s a room in his house, and he’s safe here even when the pipes are loud and it’s dark. It's a room and Leo's here, and they're safe together.

He thinks about Donnie, waiting for soup. About Raph and his big worried bros, and the way he lets Mikey climb up on his shoulders to see up higher. He thinks about a hallway, and the twelve and a half steps to the stairs and the ten steps up to their floor, and the ten more steps to their bedroom. There’s something warm in his fingertips, in his chest, like he’s just had soup, or been bundled up in his favorite spot in their hammock between his brothers, and Dad is in the hallway turning off the light. 

The yellow through their ratty blue blanket always turns red and orange at the side, purple at the bottom. 

He can see the door to the hallway now— it’s not far to where his brothers are, and Dad said he’d be home soon. Mikey thinks he might be tired, though. He thinks he’s been tired for a long time. 

“I want to go home,” He tells Leo, from some place outside himself. His hands tingle funny, he thinks he’d like to rest, but the door is right there and he made it, and it’s glowing bright as anything— 

Leo’s hand is firm and warm and squeezes back, and he can take another step. 

____

Mikey wakes up warm. 

He stretches, reaches as high up as he can to touch the wall behind his headboard, same as he always does. He feels the grooves of the stone under his fingers, and the light vibration of the pipes behind it. He feels the stiffness in his spine loosen, uncurl, like he’s been tucked into his shell for too long.

It’s quiet, he realizes; his home is a ripcord of motion normally. Raph always gets up early and makes tea, and sits with Dad for a little while before Mikey ambles down to get breakfast going. He can usually hear music already, or Don’s electronics whirring if he’d pulled another all nighter, or the thrum of a TV. There’s none of that now. If he focuses, he can hear soft puffs of breath somewhere beside him. 

The realization doesn’t hit him for a long moment. He opens his eyes and sees his room, the outlines of plastic stuck on stars on the ceiling, the pile of comics tucked carefully onto his bookshelf, and — Leo. Sleeping with his head on his hand, leaning half onto Mikey’s bed from the floor. 

He blinks and— 

He’s standing on an asteroid, the one he lost Leo on. Some unthinkable distance away from home, caught high up in the air and all alone. The Krang is missing, because Mikey did it right this time, finally. He found the branch within all the branches that would get Leo home— the one where Mikey never existed to begin with. The only branch where Leo grew up being the baby of the family where his overprotective brothers never allowed him to even venture into self-sacrificial acts of heroism. The only one where Leo figures out a different plan.

They’re happy here, he knows. They will be happy here, even if Leo doesn’t believe him. 

His brother is all highlighter outrage and heartbreak, a full study in devastation in technicolor, and all Mikey can think of is that he loves him. That he’s glad he’s safe. That if this is the only gift he can ever give any of them again, a way to skip grieving at all, then he’s glad. He’s only sorry to be the one leaving first. 

“What are you talking about?” Leo’s voice shakes, his eyes are wild. He’s not supposed to even know what’s happening, not supposed to be able to talk to Mikey like this, but his brothers have always had a way of doing the impossible. “You’re not going anywhere, stop it.” 

“Leo, it’s too late. I’m– I’m not going anywhere, not really. You’ll see.” 

Leo’s expression twists further, it hurts to look at, it does, but Mikey makes himself memorize all of it just in case. 

“You think I’ll let that happen?”

“You don’t have a choice—”

“I don’t care, Michael. I don’t— what. My baby brother is badass enough to change space and time just because he decided to, and you think I’m going to let that one up me? If you can change the timeline, then so can I.”

Mikey smiles, despite himself. He wonders how it’s possible to be so afraid and full of love all at once, he doesn’t know how there’s room. "Leo, you have to let me go. It's okay."

His big brother is so, so sad. It aches and hollows him out to see it, he's never seen Leo like this before. Like the sun just burnt itself out right in the sky. “If I let you go, I'll lose you." He says, simply, horrifically. 

"Maybe that's how it's s'pposed to go," Mikey shrugs, hiccuping on a sob.

Leo's expression shifts, firm lines pouring in between. He leans close and pokes him in the chest, eyes flashing fierce. "It's not. It can't be, I won't let it. You’re not going anywhere, baby brother. I’m not doing any of this without you.” 

The world unravels apart in front of him and Leo’s eyes never leave his. 

“You awake?” 

Mikey jumps, hands curled tight into his comforter so hard it hurts. Leo’s staring at him now, expression entirely unreadable. 

“Leo, I—” 

He holds up a hand, swiping at Mikey’s chin gently. “Great to see you up. Worried we weren’t going to be able to wake you for a bit there. How are your hands?” 

His hands? Mikey blinks down at himself. His hands are a network of glowing lines, worse than before. Last time they’d opened up like fissures, pure gold creeping through before settling into paler scars against his scales. Now, it looks like his hands are barely holding back straight sunlight, more cracked lines than not. It doesn’t… hurt, though. 

“Okay,” He says, his voice is croaky and small. Leo smiles at him, rubs the top of his head in a smooth motion before standing. 

“I’ll let Don know you’re awake, he wanted to check in on all of that.” 

Leo hasn’t actually looked him in the eyes, Mikey realizes with a pang— instinctively, desperately, he grabs Leo’s hand before he can walk away. Some part of him terrified abruptly that Leo’s so furious with him it’ll be like this forever, never quite looking at him but too scared to leave. Like magnets constantly repelling each other. Leo's his best friend, just like Donnie and Raph, but he's always wanted to be as brave as Leo was his whole life. He can't be mad at him for doing what Leo would have done, did do a thousand times over, he can't.

“Don’t— um. Don’t go?” 

Leo’s shoulders hitch high, he’s staring at the doorway flatly. Tense. Mikey has an insane urge to apologize, desperately, but he’s not even really sorry. If Leo’s here then he did it right, it was worth it. If Leo’s here then Mikey made the correct choice, no matter what Leo thinks.

They stay like that for a long second, Mikey holding Leo’s wrist with both hands, Leo facing away. He can feel Leo’s pulse under his thumb, it’s settling some terrified white noise in his head, in spite of himself. He can breathe knowing Leo's here.

Actually, he’s breathing a lot— big heaving breaths that tear through him all at once. He can feel Leo’s heartbeat and he’s alive, and Mikey’s here, and he can see him and— he was so tired of being alone, of trying to be brave. Maybe he always believed Leo would find him, maybe that wasn’t fair of him at all. He just doesn’t want Leo to hate him for it. 

“I— I…” He tries, the sentences evaporating into nothing before him. 

Leo turns instantly, switching their hands so he’s holding onto Mikey’s wrist just as tightly. His eyes are wet, Mikey realizes. 

“Angelo—” 

“Leo—” Mikey stops, bites his lip. Leo doesn’t look angry, not really, but he’s not sure. “I’m. I’m just happy to see you.”

Something crashes across the flat dark of his eyes, splintering it apart like a lightning storm, all motion and sparked urgency. 

“I missed you so much,” Leo says, and pulls him into a hug. 

Mikey gasps, tears falling from wide eyes. “I thought… I thought you’d be mad.” 

“I am,” Leo sniffs, choking on a breath as he bundles Mikey closer. “I’m so fucking mad at you, but I love you and you were missing. Don’t ever do that to me again.” 

“You jumped first,” Mikey manages, some backwards anger from a reality that no longer matters leeching forwards. 

Leo shakes his head, hooks his chin on top of Mikey’s forehead. “Big brothers are supposed to do stuff like that. I knew you’d save my shell.” 

“No you didn’t,” Mikey argues, balling his fists up to push at Leo’s chest. “You didn’t, because I didn’t even know. You were going to leave me behind.” 

There’s a fraction of a space between them as Leo lifts his head, and it’s horrible. His eyes are swollen red, tears still streaming from them; he looks just as heartbroken as before, but Mikey’s fine. Leo shouldn't look like he's still losing Mikey when they're here together, that's silly, that hurts in a way Mikey doesn't know how to make better. He puts both hands on Leo's cheeks anyways, to keep him in one piece all together.

“Never,” Leo swears wetly. “I’ll always come back for you, you hear me? Nowhere you can go I can’t annoy you back where you belong.”

“Same for you,” Mikey insists, it sounds like begging. “I’m a badass mystic warrior now. I’ll just drag you back home.” 

Leo lets out a shaking breath, and Mikey sniffles too.

"I was trying to tell you that I loved you," Mikey offers, wobbling all the way down to the core of himself. "Did you hear me?"

His big brother's face twists, crashes to pieces and his shoulders shake, leaning all his weight forwards into Mikey's hands and closing his eyes. "Course I did," He says, as easy as anything. "Of course I did."

____

Leo has another dream. 

It’s softer— it’s not on the asteroid, there’s no Krang or portal or giant ship. He’s younger, skipping through the sewers after his Dad and his brothers. Dad has Raph’s hand in his, and Raph’s holding onto Donnie’s sleeve to make sure he doesn’t stray too far either. He gets distracted sometimes, by the details that pile up in his head. Raphie keeps an eye on Donnie though. 

Leo’s supposed to be doing something, he thinks. 

The tunnels are tall and wide, and there’s hints of lights through the grates high up above that make spackled golden dots on the stone. He peers closely at a puddle, the way the light seems to absorb it all in. When he looks up, his family is trailing farther away. Faint outlines in the murky distance— he needs to catch up, he thinks. Or when the rain comes we’ll get separated. 

Dad’s watching out for Raph, who’s watching out for Donnie, though, so they’ll be okay. It’s Leo’s job to make sure they don’t get separated. 

The tunnels are still light, but they’re long and the splotches of light look like sun through the tree leaves, and his family turns a corner. Leo’s alone. 

He wakes up, standing in a tunnel. 

It’s dark. Of course it’s dark— for a disorienting moment, Leo’s not sure he’s actually awake. The jumpcut between his last memories of ambling off to bed to now don’t seem to fit in any way he can make sense of, but the stone under his feet is cold and solid anyways. He knows this tunnel, probably. He knows all of the offshoot tunnels by their home like the back of his hand— he’s not lost. He isn’t. 

He is alone, though. 

The dream is still floating through his mind, a cloud that hasn’t fully let up and drifted off as it weighs thick and heady. A thundercloud, dropping low with all its gray and heavy lightning. They didn’t wander off without him, he knows— except. It’s just that they could have, couldn’t they? Any one of them could be cut clean through again. 

He knows the memory his mind had latched onto. His heart beats frantic and loud for a moment as he realizes. He’d been there with Mikey, it was his job to watch his baby brother; he’d been there with Mikey, but he’d forgotten again. How could he have forgotten, again? What if he hadn’t fixed it, not really, and any one of them could fade out of the forefront without him noticing? 

The tunnel is dark, and he’s alone— he knows this tunnel, his home is a few steps around the corner, and he must have slept walked all the way out but he can go back. He knows his brothers: Donnie, Raph, Mikey. He hasn’t forgotten them, he hasn’t. 

There were fifteen seconds that he was alone in the dark when the power went out. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Raph’s voice bounces off the stone around them— Leo whirls around before his mind catches fully up, and Raph sweeps him up further into a bear hug with it. “Pretty sure you’re still grounded.” 

Leo blinks frantically, feeling the slight tremble of Raph’s arms around him. Donnie peeks his head over Raph’s shoulder. “So, turns out I didn’t remove the trackers on all of you that I said I did, go figure.” 

“Which I’ll allow this one time, on account of bozo activity.” Raph says. “But we will be revisiting at a later time, with Dad.” 

“What—” Leo turns his head. Donnie’s pretending to type on his wrist guard, but his eyes keep flickering up at Leo and away. Raph’s smile is tense at the edges. They’re here, they’re real, he hasn’t forgotten them, but then— 

Raph continues, he’s herding Leo forward and beginning the walk back home as he talks. “Maybe we give up the whole sleeping in separate rooms thing tonight and do a sleepover instead. We can put your favorite on.”

“I won’t even argue on which film is the best, this one time only,” Donnie says, magnanimously.  

Oh, Leo manages a shaky smile back. The ball of nervousness bubbles in his chest, he tries to swallow it down. “Better not be Punch Chowder then, because—”

“That’s only for criminals,” Mikey chirps in, patting Leo on the arm as they’re bustled forward. The knot in Leo’s chest relaxes. Everyone’s here, he didn’t forget them. The gratitude is nearly overwhelming, his knees nearly give out before Mikey swoops in under his arm, wrapping his own firmly around Leo’s shell. 

“Movie night sounds good,” He manages. His family, all where he can see them, can be sure he won’t wake up without any one of them. It sounds perfect. 

The lights are on, the tunnel is bright. He’s watching over Mikey and he’s holding onto all of them, and his hand is in Don’s. 

Yeah, he thinks. Everything where it’s supposed to be. 

[abbyromanoff]

if possible could you do a G!P Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader where reader is a mutant that is a prisoner of the avengers and is having a secret relationship with Natasha and during one of their "Meet ups" Natasha ends up getting reader pregnant and the team eventually finds out about the relationship and after reader gives birth they find out that the baby has inherited Readers powers

Babies with powers

Pairings: g!p Natasha Romanoff x reader

I didn’t fully understand what a mutant was and still didn’t when I looked it up but I hope it’s fine that I just gave them powers!

Summary: Basically just the anons request

Word count: 2295

Warnings: smut, fluff, slight angst, sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, nat has a dick, reader gets pregnant, mentions of vomiting and sickness, slight dirty talk

The clock wrote 11:04 PM as Nat started to get ready to leave her room, planning on going down to your cell. The Avengers were keeping you as they thought you may be a suspect in the new killings due to your similar powers to the killer. They all had a feeling it wasn’t you but they needed to make sure.

In the time of being locked up you met Nat. She was kind, smart, funny, and the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on. The woman thought the same of you, she thought the world of you and wanted to show you just how much she admired you, so she did. Even if it had to be in secret she would spend the rest of her life loving and caring for you.

Walking towards your area she swiped her keycard and used her facial recognition to sign in. She saw you laying down sleeping when she entered the room, letting out a small chuckle she walked over to you and laid down behind you, wrapping her arms around your warm body. When you slightly stirred awake she worried that your sleep was interrupted by her, she’d hate to wake you when you’re so peaceful.

Your eyes fluttered open as you took in your surroundings, jumping a bit when you turn to see your girlfriend staring back at you. You let out a relieved sigh when you realized it was just her and not some random agent trying to take you away. Still a little tired you cuddled up into the warm arms of the redhead, using her breasts as a pillow. She ran her fingers through your hair as she gave a light kiss to the top of your head. You noticed she seemed a little down and tried to ask her what was wrong but only received a shrug in return. You decided to not push about the topic and let her talk when ready.

“I wish we didn’t have to hide all of the time.” Came her small cracked voice. You moved your head to look at her properly, frowning to yourself when you saw water in her eyes.

“Me neither, but you know we have to. I promise you the second they let me free we can scream out to the world just how much we love each other.” She smiled at that, hoping the day would come soon. Everyday she begged the team and Fury to release you, trying to prove that you were innocent, but they kept refusing and saying you were a possible killer and needed to be locked up. So for now you had to be her dirty little secret, only ever seeing each other where no one else could find you, only ever loving one another when there was no one around.

“Why can’t we just say it now? As much as I love to keep my personal business to myself I just want everyone to know that you’re mine and I’m yours. I want to be able to tell people that you’re my partner without the fear of losing my spot on the team.” “I know, I know. It’s not fair, but nothing in this world is, and we just have to live with it for now. Soon the day will come when you can tell everyone you know that I’m yours, and I can tell everyone that you’re mine. It may be awhile but I will be right by your side until that day, and after.” She nodded in understanding. She hoped the days would go by fast so she could do all the things lovers do with you instead of spending her nights in your cell. As much as she loved you she didn’t know if she could spend another night in these cells, she doesn’t know how you’ve been doing it for three months.

You both stared at one another lovingly until she leaned in to kiss you. It started off sweet, just a nice kiss between two people, until she used her tongue to make out with you. She slowly raked her hands up and down your back and stopped at your ass, giving it a light squeeze that pushed you forward. You got on top of her as you two were engrossed with each other's bodies. You slowly grinded on her clothed crotch while she started to move her hips upward to make contact with your core. You both broke from the passionate kiss and continued your movements, feeling yourself get wetter as she got harder. The small rhythm went on for another minute until Nat got needy and tore open your shirt, fondling your breasts as she admired the way they bounced along with your body. You started to get off of her so you could take off her pants along with your own, Nat tried to force you back onto her but realized what you were doing and let you take off her clothing without complaint.

When you sat back down on her your folds made contact with her hard cock, making you both let out a breathy moan. Grabbing her length in your hands you jerked her off, starting with a slow pace until you heard her whimpers and started to increase your speed. Feeling her throb in your hand you soon added your mouth, licking and sucking her pink tip.

“So good at taking my dick, you were made for this cock weren’t you baby?” You nodded as much as you could with your mouth full of her. You bobbed your head up and down as you took more of her, continuing to jerk off the rest of her that you couldn’t fit down your throat.

Nat felt like she would explode any minute with your experienced mouth. “Gonna breed your fucking throat! Wanna fill it up with my cum.”

You released her from your mouth to speak, “Please, need it so bad! Need to taste your cum.”

“You will princess, just keep doing that- Shit! Keep doing that!” She yelled out when you massaged her balls with one of your hands. Whimpers and whines spilled out of her as she could tell she was going to cum soon, your mouth and hands made her feel too good. Spurts of cum started to enter your mouth, swallowing them with a moan that vibrated across her length.

“Yes, take it all! Take all of me down that tight little throat!” You did exactly what she asked of you, taking all of her juices until you milked her dry.

Removing your mouth from her now soft cock you went up to her mouth, kissing her as she could taste herself. She pushed you to lay down on the small bed and rubbed her cock against you once again. “I need to fuck your pussy this time.”

It’s been exactly three weeks and two days since then, you and Nat have continued to meet up almost every night and the Avengers were able to prove that you are in fact innocent. Ever since then they’ve let you use a guest room, seeming as you have no home or place to stay. You were born in a facility and grew up in that exact place so friends weren't something you had. They continued to test you and figure out what caused the power you have, which was Invisibility and teleportation. You told them everything but it still wasn’t enough, they ran multiple tests a day and Nat was pissed. You weren’t some project they could work on yet they were treating you like one, Nat would scream and yell at them for it but they had to do what was best for you. During the past week you’ve been feeling sick, puking all day and night. You thought it was from the pills they had you take but the many side effects didn’t include vomiting.

When you told Nat she forced you to go see Dr. Cho, informing you that she was the best out there. When the lady had you sit down she immediately went to work on trying to figure out what the problem may be. Nat was pacing around worriedly as you were passed out on the bed, one of the side effects may not be puking but drowsiness was definitely on there. When the lady turned to Nat she stopped her previous actions and listened intently.

“Ms. Romanoff, were you informed that Ms. Y/L/N is with child?” Nat stared in shock as everything finally made sense, of course you were pregnant. All the times she’d fill you up with her load came running back into her mind, all the times she’d watch as her cum leaked out of your pussy without fearing you’d end up carrying her child.

“Uh no, no I didn’t know that.” She admitted honestly, feeling stupid that she didn’t realize sooner. “Well then congratulations, I wish you both the best of luck.” Nobody on the team knew that you guys were together, but you had to inform the lady for her to come up with a conclusion of what the situation at hand was.

Nat sat down on the chair next to the bed and waited for you to wake up. She imagined you two running around chasing the little one, the three happy faces that laughed as the redheaded baby was caught. Watching the little girl grow up and spending the rest of her life with you. She’d hoped it was a girl, there were enough men around that filled the air with testosterone, she didn’t need more of that. Taking your face in her hands she moved the little hairs out of your face, causing you to wake up and stare into the teary eyes of the other woman. You suddenly got deja vu from weeks ago when you both met up again, her sad face leaving an imprint in your mind.

“What’s wrong Natty?” She looked down with a smile on her face and shook her head before responding in a small, quiet voice. “You’re pregnant.”

“Oh.” She was confused by your response, she thought you would be more happy about this. “Oh?” She repeated, trying to understand why you weren’t jumping into her arms out of excitement and joy.

“Do you not want it?” “No of course I do, but, do you even want it? I know we’ve never talked about children before but I think I can see myself with some one day. And if you don’t want that I understand-” Nat cut off your thoughts before you started to doubt anything, she wanted you to know how truly happy she was about this.

“Relax sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about if I want one because trust me I want that more than anything. I want one with you, I want to start a family with you and grow old together as we watch them all grow up and go off to college where they’ll forget all about us.” You both let out a laugh and remained in a comfortable silence while she held you close.

“I think we should tell the team.” Came her fragile voice, scared of your reaction. You leaned back to look her in the eyes and nodded. “I think it’s time.”

Nine months later you gave birth to a baby boy and a baby girl, both healthy. Nat asked if you both could name the girl after her sister Yelena while you wanted to name the boy after the one man who has been the sweetest to you through everything, James Buchanan Barnes. You gave the baby the name James and watched as Bucky almost cried hearing the news. He refused to let himself hold the baby as he feared he’d hurt him with his metal arm but you and Nat insisted on it.

The little ones were now four years old, you and Nat wanted to go out for your anniversary so Yelena offered to babysit them, something she only did for a good fifty bucks. You were both in the middle of your dinner when you got a call from the woman, when you answered she spoke in a frantic tone.

“Y/N the-the baby, he’s gone! I can’t find him but I can hear him, and trust me I already looked in the walls!” You both stood up and ran to the car after placing a hundred dollar bill on the table. Nat sped to the house fast and you both barged in to find Lena teleporting to different spots while giggling and kept hearing James voice yelling ‘You can’t find me!’ Nat’s sister was running around trying to catch your baby and looking for the other one when she saw you both at the doorway. You two looked at each other as the realization that they’ve finally got their powers hit. You thought it would take a few more years but I guess they start young. Nat went to try and get Lena to stop while you were luckily able to convince James into stopping. You both were excited that the twins finally got your own powers but knew that also meant lots of difficult situations when they would want to goof around with them.

Yelena ran out after snatching her money, yelling out a ‘I’m never babysitting for you two ever again!’ making you all laugh.

That night you and your wife were heading to bed while your kids ran in to say goodnight, never once did they stop talking about their new found discovery. Nat only put her face in her hands and muttered under her breath, 'Great, now I have three children running around with powers while I have none.’

[yandere-fics]

♡ Elisha Spends The Summer With An Immortal Maiden In Your Forest ♡

(This is 4,113 words so the longest fic I've written for one of my characters on their own.)

♡ Immortals were essential to the balance of life, you had to remain in your forest lest it wither and die without your presence, vampires must exist otherwise humans would hunt too many animals in the forests they resided in, dragons had to keep their forests safe havens, likewise there had to be those who hunted vampires who did not remain in their dens, there had to be a dragon slayer to keep dragons from getting too bold, and there had to be people who would come to try to harm you so you would be driven to stay in your forest and never leave, not that you would even if there weren't those trying to hunt you, but once upon a time in your youth you had thought about leaving your forest until you felt the cool steel of knife against your neck, in the end venturing out wasn't worth it. ♡

♡ When Elisha came into your forest wounded from a fight with what seemed like a giant dragon, you felt you had to take care of her, sure she could have healed on her own but her recovering quickly was essential for things falling into their natural order, it wouldn't do to have her out of commission and as the chosen one, you could tell from the seal on her boots, she surely would not bring harm to you so it wouldn't hurt you to help, so you dragged her back to your clearing in the woods and started to make medicine for her wounds. ♡

"Oh! You're awake! I found you at the edge of my forest and brought you inside to protect you." You kneeled down next to her sleeping roll with the bowl of soup you'd made for her, you knew she'd wake up today, you just hadn't realized she'd wake up so soon. You'd likely be able to get her out of your forest in a month with how fast she was recovering, it made you a bit sad to think you'd be alone again, even the company of a comatose body was better than no company. "I'm the maiden who guards these woods, you are the chosen one, correct?"

"That's me, honestly if I had to get stabbed through the stomach with a dragons claw just to see you, it's entirely worth it." She tried to sit up, flinching at the pain in her stomach, the wound luckily wasn't too deep but there still was a hole in her stomach at the current moment so she really shouldn't be moving at all for another week. She didn't respond well when you pushed her to lay back down, she was going to be an extremely rough patient to deal with. The first week passed without incident.

♡ Despite her non stop flirting, living with her was good, on the second week when she had actually became capable of moving again though still had to refrain from straining herself she followed you to the lake when you collected water for your camp. She wanted to help carry the buckets back but you refused to let her, her recovery was the most important thing at the moment. She was rather easy to talk to as well much to your surprise, she seemed nonchalant at first but it seemed to just be a mask, she was in fact a rather sweet and loving person to talk to. ♡

♡ She also understood everything you said quite well, you didn't need to explain basic concepts to her about how the forest worked or the creatures that resided there, she grasped it all very well and even wrote small journal entries about every creature that lived there, except for the pixies, they freaked her out every time you pointed out one of them, she'd mumbled under her breath something about them being demonic little shits before catching herself and apologizing, you supposed everyone had things they weren't able to handle though. ♡

"Fucking fuck!" You darted over to where Elisha was only to see her freaking out because a pixie had landed on a tree branch next to her head and she really didn't like it, you almost thought it was cute for a second because you realized she was actually a bit freaked out and came over to help her.

"It's okay, let's just keep walking, I'll hold your hand as we go, okay?" She fumbled for a minute trying to decide what to say before sighing and just taking your hand.

"Thanks, I guess." It was charming when she tried to pretend she didn't appreciate the gesture.

♡ Elisha insisted on following you everywhere in your forest during the third week, no longer only following you if you went long distances like to the lake, now following you even if you were only going to pick berries on the other side of the clearing, you told her your forest was safe as long as you never stepped foot outside it but she still felt the need to watch over you just in case. Her wound was getting significantly better on the bright side however. ♡

♡ You'd discovered how easy it was to cool her flirting, with just a tiny bit of reciprocation she was turned into a complete fool often shutting her mouth for a while. It made sense, whenever you'd spent any time with humans in your forest in the past they'd been all talk but the moment you moved to do something they had lacked the follow through excluding a few of them who left the next morning feeling like you'd lost your mystique now that you weren't an 'untouched' maiden of the woods. You couldn't understand why humans held that assumption but you were just glad you got to fuck to begin with even if they left afterwards. ♡

"You should just marry me and leave your forest baby." You had to hold back a laugh, it was likely the fifth time this day she'd blurted it out, she wasn't serious though, the second you indulged her for even a second she got all flustered and backed away, mumbling something about needing an engagement ring first. Today you were not in a humoring mood however, she had been doing heavy lifting around camp which was only going to make her wounds worse, it was like she was trying to get hurt so she could stay here longer.

"Sit back down, you'll reopen that stupid scar on your stomach." She grinned stupidly as you pushed her to sit down on a wooden log, her hand catching your hand and kissing your wrist gently.

"See, you're caring for me just like a wifey, baby, it's mean to be." You pulled away from her, trying not to even look at her for the rest of the day or else you'd see that stupid grin on her face. It was dangerous for her to be so beautiful, you'd almost believe she actually means the things she's saying. "Mmm my pretty wifey, I can't wait."

♡ She got far weirder the fourth week, her wounds were close to healing, she decided this meant she was good to start training again and aggravated her wound so much you forced her back on bedrest which didn't work the best considering her need to follow you even to the other side of your little camping site. It was cute having her trail you around constantly asking for your hand in marriage until it wasn't. ♡

♡ It was around this time you also became cognizant of the fact you were nude around her constantly and asked her to give you a pair of her clothing leading you to wear an oversized shirt she'd apparently stolen from a man she was gambling with and refused to give back out of spite even though it wasn't in her size, she'd forgotten about it in her bag, it really came in handy when you could feel her eyes growing far bolder by the day. ♡

"Do you have to wear that? It's just us in the clearing, I wanna see my baby again!" You rolled your eyes scooting away from her, she seemed offended you'd finally put some damn clothing on which only increased your desire to remain clothed around the massive flirt. You were not going to be seduced by this second rate seductress, it wasn't happening, sure she was pretty but out of everyone who had flirted with you, she was by far the worst flirt but one look at her pretty face and you'd almost believe she meant what she said when she called you baby in that ever so slightly whiny tone that demanded reciprocation.

"The fact that you want me to take it off so bad is why I'm not going to take it off." You heard her scoff and roll over in her bedroll but you couldn't look at her, that stupid face of hers made you just want to give in, next you'd need to find a pair of pants that fit, there was probably a pair leftover from a previous human though you imagine Elisha would get grumpy if you left for even a second to go find a pair and reopen her wounds so you'd have to wait until she slept.

♡ In a shocking twist of events it wasn't you putting on pants that bothered her, it was that they belonged to someone else despite the shirt that she gave you also also belonging to someone else, she was still on bedrest though and she apparently liked when you were nursing her back to health so she couldn't get up and shred them like she'd threaten to do when you first told her how you obtained them. The unfortunate thing about cleaning her wound every day and redressing it because it wouldn't stop coming open whenever she got up to follow you was you actually had to look at her for a prolonged period of time. ♡

♡ Elisha was basking in it though, every time you had to remove the bandages she proposed to you, you clearly wanted to be her wife, only her wifey would take care of her while she's bedridden, it was during that conversation you told her the real reason you dragged her in to care for her, the nature of the world would be thrown out of balance if she took too long to heal, it had nothing to do with her in the slightest, she did not take well to this. ♡

"You don't mean that baby," She shook her head back and forth pushing you away from her as you were trying to dress her wounds again for the tenth time this week. It was like everytime you rejected her she ripped her wounds open again but it couldn't have been on purpose surely. She was a bad flirt so surely she'd also be a terrible manipulator and you'd be able to see what she was doing if that was what it was.

"Elisha, just let me bandage you please?" You tried to approach again so you could push her down, if she got up all angry then it could increase her recovery time by weeks again, perhaps you should have said it with a bit more tact but you didn't want to lead her on.

"Y-you didn't mean it baby." She allowed you to push her back down onto the bed smiling happily as she grabbed your hand and nuzzled it. "You don't mean it."

♡ Despite how she'd calmed down, Elisha hardly spoke to you during week six, your word had affected her much harder than she cared to admit. You'd been a bit harsh, while it was true you did it for more selfish reasons such as keeping a balance, that didn't mean you completely hated her, you'd be rather sad to see her go. The silence didn't last long though as a bandit wandered into the woods hellbent on ending you. ♡

♡ You couldn't die as long as you were within the forest, nor could your forest die, it could be burned down however it would grow back just as strong right where it had been as long as you remained, at the same time if you were stabbed your wound would heal in days so long as you stayed in the woods so you were unaffected by intruders and they couldn't even drag you out of the forest, you had to leave it of your own accord so you would have ignored them until you realized there was someone in the forest who could be killed and thus you rushed out in front of the bandit to lead them away from Elisha but they couldn't even chase because soon after they were speared down by her. ♡

"Baby! Why would you do that?!? I was so worried!" She collapsed in your arms, chest heaving wildly from exerting herself like that, you didn't even want to start thinking of how bad her wounds had gotten from running over to spear the intruder.

"It would have been okay, usually they stab me and run in terror when they discover that hardly effects me." It wasn't a good enough explanation for her, just because you wouldn't have died didn't mean you didn't feel the pain and she knew that quite well from her other experiences with immortals, you should have just called her to protect you, why didn't you just fucking ask her to protect you!

"Baby, I love you, I can't let you be in pain!" She heaved a bit as you lifted her arm around your shoulders to guide her back to camp, you were going to have to treat her yet again. "I'm gonna protect you from now on. I'll get better and protect you forever."

♡ The seventh week she stop moving and opening her wounds up again, you supposed so was determined to finally heal after that last attack though it did upset you it took an attack on you for her to start paying attention to her own wellbeing it was better than her continuing to rip her stomach open. Her progress was really good as soon as she actually started listening to you though she did request you not to go too far away from the clearing unless it was to go get water at the lake, you were more than happy to oblige that request. ♡

♡ She was much more charming when she wasn't clinging to you every second though you didn't dare say that, you really didn't want to lead the poor girl on. She talked a lot less too while she was healing too, though she still proposed every morning and every night before she passed out so you were glad she felt energetic enough for that. ♡

"Baby, I love you." You made the mistake of giggling and she mistook it for you being pleased with her affections, she reached out to clutch your hand, not sitting up though, and pressed it against her face again. She had a real fondness for nuzzling you, you'd noticed. It was a bit cute. "Go out with me if you won't marry me yet baby."

"Alright, I will." You weren't sure what made you say yes but the smile on her face was enough to erase your doubts, if things went wrong then she'd be healed up quickly anyways and you could send her on her way, despite how stupid she came off at times, she was a reasonable girl, she'd surely be fine even if you ended things abruptly.

♡ Her recovery had been slowed down from all those weeks of her fighting against it but after a full week of bedrest it had finally scabbed up properly, she could get up and walk around as long as she went slowly which came with her begging you to kiss her every five minutes and pouting when it wouldn't turn into a full blown make out session though she relented when you reminded her she wouldn't heal quickly if she exerted herself with things like making out. ♡

♡ You could tell she wanted to start following you everywhere again but she was holding back and mostly staying in her bedroll when you left the clearing, you were sad she was getting closer to recovering and thus closer to leaving you but at the end of the day she had to get back out there for the sake of the world again, you couldn't keep her in your forest forever as nice as it had been to have company. ♡

"My wounds are almost healed baby!" She was thrilled when she pulled up her shirt that morning and saw it was beginning to scar. You knew if she just relaxed it would be easy for her to heal up, things usually healed quicker in this forest though you were the only immortal thing here so they didn't have your extreme healing rates but it was still a drastically improved healing rate and as the chosen one you were sure the magic of the forest would work on her better anyways. You knew what she really wanted though.

"Just one kiss, you still can't put too much pressure on it." She rolled her eyes at your lecture but you could tell she wasn't all that bothered by it, taking your lecturing as a sign you loved her.

"I know baby, just come here now?" You tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned in for a brief kiss though she quickly pulled you closer for another one immediately afterwards.

♡ The ninth week of the summer was by far the hottest of the summer and so since Elisha was healed enough you invited her to come down to the lake with you again though you shooed the pixies away from it first so the both of you could skinny dip in piece, it was the first time you'd been naked in front of her for a good while though and since she was now your 'girlfriend' it felt just a bit weird. ♡

♡ She on the other hand was thrilled to finally be free from the heat, having to lay in bed and be wrapped in so many bandages couldn't have been comfortable in the summer heat so her focus on just being in the cool water did help you feel a bit less self conscious, she was your girlfriend though so you couldn't help but make just a bit of a move, still being careful around her stomach. ♡

"Lisha, please slow down, you'll hurt yourself." She pouted still trying to make out with you more aggressively meanwhile you tried to keep this session on the lighter side so the dumbass wouldn't undo all the hard work you'd put into her recovery.

"I want to kiss my wifey though baby, can't I please have that?" You closed your eyes so her pretty face wouldn't tempt you any further, this was for her own good as much as it pained you. You wouldn't do her any good to hurt herself and then possibly have to still be here in the fall rains, it didn't hurt you but she'd get even sicker, she had to get out of here before the end of summer.

"Not a chance, you fool." You smiled giving her a kiss on the nose and swimming away from her.

♡ Week ten she was fully ready to go but you couldn't bring yourself to clear her to leave, you'd send her away closer to when the summer was actually ending, you'd just barely became able to cuddle with her at night, you weren't ready to lose it so quickly. This was bad for the balance, you had a role to play and she had a role she had to play somewhere outside your forest, you couldn't keep her if things were to run smoothly but you wanted to bask in the fantasy for just a moment longer until she suggested you leave your forest with her when she healed up. ♡

♡ You could no longer pretend things would go on forever, you couldn't stay in the moment when this moment when it was a very brief flicker in your eternal lifespan, you couldn't leave your forest and she couldn't stay in your forest forever and so it had to end, she wasn't taking very well to you trying to end things however. ♡

"Baby you don't mean that! You're just scared of leaving this place but I already promised I'd protect you, it'll be okay!" She threw herself at your feet trying to get you to take back the break up, it wasn't true, you didn't mean it, you were just uhh scared for your futures together, you could make this work, please don't leave her!

"I think it's best you leave next week." You pulled your leg away from her deciding to go to the lake for awhile so you wouldn't have to see her crying face and feel you made a mistake. You loved her but there was an order to things, you had different places in that order, you were always doomed to fail.

"Baby, I love you!" She wailed watching you walk off, it's okay, she'd give you distance to get through your fears and you'd realize you were safer with her, there'd be no more bandits to attack you as long as she was around, it'd be okay.

♡ She thought you would apologize but the entire eleventh week she spent there you didn't even look at her, let alone talk to her and you brushed off all her attempts to converse and convince you leaving was the best thing for you to do, she had no choice but to begin to pack and hope something about her packing would inspire you to want to talk to her again. ♡

♡ You couldn't look at her, if you did you might give in to her charming face and that would throw everything out of wack, you were steadfast in your decision to stay here and if you wanted to remain steadfast, you couldn't look at your now ex-girlfriend, her being that pretty really was dangerous to the natural order of things, you were shocked she hadn't seduced more immortals away from their forests but maybe they just weren't as stupid as you and didn't drag a really pretty girl into their forest to treat their wounds. You'd be a lot less miserable right now if you'd left her be. ♡

"I'm leaving, baby, won't you please come with me?" She knew the answer was going to be no and it was all this stupid forests fault, if this forest didn't exist you would have came with her no question but it wasn't easy to get you to realize this forest wasn't worth your protection, she had to make you see just how fragile the forest was, why would you protect something that could be destroyed at a moments notice after, if your forest was destroyed you'd lose all your animal friends and then you'd really have to go with her, even if the forest would regrow in a year, you wouldn't be able to handle that much loneliness and she knew it so when you shook your head she turned and left prepared to get you to step foot outside this stupid place.

♡ It was the twelfth week of summer and you felt truly alone, not even your pixie friends could wake you from your stupor, you missed her so bad even though you'd burn that bridge awhile ago. It felt like week twelve and week thirteen just blended into themselves with how sad you were until you woke to the smell of fire one night on the last day of summer in your small forest. ♡

♡ Your home burned so fast you couldn't figure out what to do, rushing to the edge of your forest scared of the fire touching you, if seemed to be magical consider how fast your trees burned and while you would be fine if normal fire touched you, you were scared of the pain you would feel if it touched you, so scared you didn't question Elisha being camped just a bit outside of your forest who leaped up to get you when she saw the first spreading behind you in the distance, so scared you didn't even question how you'd willingly jumped from the forest boundary and into her arms. All that mattered was her promise to protect you. ♡

[sugar-omi]

okay, so i've been doing some thinking. i've been scrolling through your blog and i stepped upon these "cheating on cove with Baxter and the other way around" scenarios. (i'm sorry, i wasn't able to read them, my heart couldn't take it ;-;) but!

what if mc was like, in a normal relationship with Baxter. you know, a couple, maybe married later and stuff, while of course still being besties with Cove. later mc and Baxter have a kid together, maybe still a small baby but! plot twist! Baxter gets into an accident or something and dies. (i'm sorry, he's my favourite man but i had to kill him for that scenario:'))

mc is completely devastated and also a little panicked, because what about the baby? and then Cove stepps in, deciding to help his best friend take care of the little one and basically becomes its father. i recently watched a video of a dog "helping" a cat take care of her kittens, and there you have it.

this one may be boring, so feel free to ignore, but i can't stop thinking about it.

ITS OK<333 I figured some ppl didn't read it bc angst n pain</3 trust me I skip over angst all the time

(I even have the tag blocked😬 sorry angst writers but I will read it and not be the same for months, I read a kiribaku angst fic years ago, and was devesated for 4 months afterwards LMAO)

okay i... I cannot expand too much on this bc OUCH

(eta now that I've finished. who am I fooling? I rlly said that like I haven't wrote a whole novel 💀 anyway <3 this clearly made me pop off more than I thought I would bc I read this at first n was devastated!!! I had no words!!!! well clearly I found them LOL)

ALSO BORING??? ANON PLEASE.. BORING WHERE<///3

n im gonna fix the format later but for now here is the bare minimum. I'm going to bed rn so nini everyone enjoy a bit of angst I promise its fluffy as well<333

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

p/n = parental name, since I wanted to leave flexibility for all the readers here <3

but anyway yeah cove would so step up for you

will follow you to the end of the earth and do whatever you need to help you work through this and to adapt to this sudden and unfortunate change

if/when your relationship starts becoming something romantic, cove would absolutely put the brakes on everything and you'd go so slow...

I imagine he'd probably move in with you or you with him, and he'd stay somewhere else (if you're living in his house he will leave anyway, he's a gentleman like that fr) so that way you can figure out if it's not just bc he's doing all these things n you're mistaking admiration for love

you'd spend the first year going super slow, as if you've never known each other before

which technically you haven't, since you've never dated before. but cove would go so far as to find out your favorite color, song, animal, food.. all over again, even though he has it memorized and knows your likes better than his own.

once cove is sure you're ready for this (after much talk between the two of you and even with your therapist that yes you've made enough progress and are emotionally ready for this) does he finally put a label on it

now if you get married...

I imagine cove won't propose at all

like I think you'd have to talk n almost beg him...

in that case he would do a small but grande gesture to propose. or he'd propose to you before you've even left the bed for the day... no inbetween

but like 8 times outta 10, you're gonna have to propose to him

he'd cry and hug you n say yes of course.

and unless you want to keep this outta your wedding, I think cove would include baxter in your wedding.

first, ofc you'd have the picture to honor his memory

but I think he'd even go so far as to have smth in his vows. but to start, he'd say smth like:

"I know the reason we became closer was unfortunate, but I'm so happy to be able to call you and [Child] my family. and I hope I can be a good father and husband"

and "baxter will always have a place in our hearts. even though he and I didn't get along at first (watery chuckle)... I'm glad he got to love you, and I hope he trusts me to love and cherish you the same way as well.."

also if you don't want to give up your wedding ring from baxter, I think cove would even go so far as to suggest combining it with his.

!!! omg I was gonna say your and baxter's wedding bands would be black, but I have another idea

okay now, for YOUR bands, I imagine they're either black or silver and yk those infinity(?) bands? that has the 2 types of metal or whatever

that's what cove would suggest doing. and if you are worried abt people asking why your bands are different, he'd get the same twisted band but silver with say a black diamond or smth. just smth to make it look like it's intentionally different colors but same design or smth

(im overthinking a bit but it's an idea right?! I'm not crazy??<////3)

or if you don't wanna do that, I imagine you can just slip it on a necklace or leave it as is, whatever you want. he wouldn't mind even if you kept wearing it, cove would never ask you to get rid of baxter's image or memory in any way, not unless it was a real problem and your attachment to him/his things was unhealthy anyway.

now for baxter's band... well if you didn't bury it with him, I imagine you'd give it to your child

another thing I think you could do w your wedding band as well, and give them both your bands to do whatever they want with. or if they don't want it of course you're not forcing them to keep it

even though they didn't get to know baxter, the way you and cove still cherish baxter's memory does help them feel something of a connection.

I also imagine baxter would take lots of photo n video w the kid, even though they're young n just a babe, theres so many videos of baxter looking n acting so loving w them

and even a couple where he's teary-eyed n all "imma do you right by you. I love you so much.."

of course, if the kid doesn't feel that connected to baxter since they were too young to know or rmbr anything, and they don't feel anything much other than sympathy and the occasional sting when they see how much baxter loved them, you don't force it.

you both know that baxter was basically a stranger to them and even though they still respect baxter and he has a place in their heart, they don't feel like they're lacking anything.

"I don't really know what to say.. or how to feel... I see how much [P/N] misses you sometimes, and we have pictures of you, and they talk about you and stuff...

but I don't feel like im missing a dad. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings, I wish I knew you too. sometimes I wish you were still here, so I got to know you as well, even though I'm still happy to have dad cove for my dad.

I just wanna know what you were like. I wanna experience what you were like. I... I wanna miss you like everyone else misses you too...

anyway, just know that dad is great! he takes care of me and [P/N] really well! he makes breakfast in bed, and he does/used to do this thing where he lifts me in the air before bed! he's so cool. I see how he makes [P/N] happy as well, so don't worry. although, [P/N] said you always thought cove was reliable and a good guy so maybe you aren't worrying anyway.

well... that's it I guess. i hope ill get to know you one day, and maybe you can tell me you're glad to see dad took good care of us. goodbye,

baxter."

pa."

cove happily listens to anything they have to say on how they feel abt baxter btw. he accepts any of their feelings, be it that they don't feel anything at all, sympathy for others, or they feel sad abt losing him.

if they do say smth like how even though it's unfortunate and they feel bad for everyone who mourns baxter (for example/especially you), they see cove as their dad and don't feel like they're missing anything and they're happy to have cove for their dad.

ofc he cries n hugs them n tells them he loves em and he's happy n he comforts them if needed of course

I also think cove is very scared abt being a father

especially in this way... even if the kiddo doesn't remember anything, or it's hazy at best, he worries about replacing baxter.

he'd probably worry abt not living up to baxter

baxter was always much more mature, at least it seemed that way most times. cove just worries about if he has the backbone and the ability to parent the child well and be someone they can look up to and/or appreciate for being a good father

cries if they call him dad btw

if they do it before you start dating, I imagine it's one of the catalyst that cause you to talk abt your feelings for each other. or if it's in the early stage..

cove prbly freezes and runs away to the other room n freaks out, definitely cries. if you don't talk to him like right after he calls his dad n cries n shares his worries n fear

either way, when you do talk he's biting his nails n trying not to pace around the room and he's like "if you wanna distance yourselves so that they don't call me dad any more I totally understand, I mean idk it's prbly weird for you-"

n he just rambles. like none of it makes sense n u have to physically shut him up. kiss him, yell, throw a pillow, hit him w the child's stuffed animal, throw a single lego brick at his back and watch him fall to the floor like he just got a nuke thrown at him

if it's later on n theres nothing to worry abt bc youve talked abt this or saw it coming or its just the otherwise most natural step, he cries of course

but he doesn't fall apart from being his in the back w a single fucking Lego as if it hurt 🙄🙄🙄🙄 (I hate this man he's DRAMATIC)

well... actually no he does

hit him, kiss him, hug him, run him over w a hotel wheels truck.... he just cries harder

adopts them like immediately basically

I imagine you do it soon, like maybe before the wedding just so that way you can have a private moment (just to save him some embarrassment from ugly crying in front of your families. in fact he just might faint fr)

n you + the kiddo surprise him w adoption papers (depending on how old the babe is at this point, they have like no idea what's going on but they know that cove is now officially recognized by the whole world (even by the unicorns n wizards n warlocks) as their daddy))

imagine laying in bed w cove n the kid in between you two

and when you wake up, cove is alrdy awake and was watching you two. he was petting the kids wild hair and he had pulled the two of you in and kept you under his arm..

and the sunlight is coming in, the day is just perfect. n the look on cove's face is full of so much love but also a bit somber this time

(cove feels awkward being here like this sometimes. during times like this you have to remind him it's okay, and you pull him back in. of course he does the same for you on those days.)

"I love you two. so much..." he whispers, tears sticking to his lashes

the kid flips over, curling into cove and they stop their sleepy mumbling now that they're tucked into cove's chest, feeling warm, happy, and safe.

you whisper equally as tender. "we were meant to be like this too."

also!! smth I just thought of...

imagine the kid looks mostly/very much like baxter. they act very much like cove's kid

like you would think cove n baxter had a kid together LOL

(if the resemblance is too much, they ask if you're the step parent </3 pls Ik it may not make sm sense but I just think it'd be so fuckin funny)

[moxxis-bar]

I think something platonic with the Calypsos would be cool! Maybe you all became friends on the ECHOnet as kids before they started streaming?

Internet Friends

Platonic Calypso Twins x Gender Neutral Reader

I’m so sorry it took me forever to write this! I’m a dummy who’s bad at time management. It wasn’t specified if this was a oneshot or headcanons, so I just wrote a oneshot, but I liked how this turned out so I might come back and write another part for this. I don’t remember if the Calypsos had access to the ECHOnet as kids since it’s been a minute since I’ve played through Borderlands 3, but we’re just going to assume they did lol

Content: Platonic fic, takes place before the events of Borderlands 3

SPOILER WARNING! Slight spoilers for Borderlands 3 and the Calypso Twins’ backstories.

Your phone couldn’t seem to stop vibrating because of the sudden influx of messages from two of your internet friends, a set of twins who looked to the ECHOnet to save them from the boredom of their lives, at least, that’s what they told you. You spent an amount of your time online, talking to them about everything there was to talk about, and they kept in touch with you often, creating a group chat between the three of you to talk in.

‘hey’

‘hey’

‘hey’

‘heyyyyyyyyy’

‘u should get online’

‘nd settle a fight between me n troy’

‘bc this idiot thinks pineapple belongs on pizza’

Tyreen blew up your Echo Device as she often did, desperate to get your attention. The heavy hand unit never seemed to stop buzzing, even as you picked it up, only now you were being bombarded by both twins.

‘ty is a LIAR’ 

‘that is NOT what we were fighting abt’

‘and my pizza opinions have NOTHING to do with this’

‘I SWEAR SHES LYING’

‘plz get on’

‘i need another voice of reason’

This was a very common occurrence, you can’t even begin to count the number of times you’ve been dragged into their weird arguments with absolutely zero context, but it was always fun to watch how passionate they were about these weird disagreements. Ready to join in and get some context, you typed into the group chat you shared with the twins.

‘whats this abt troy liking pineapple on pizza?’

It only took a few seconds for Troy to respond, Tyreen following shortly after.

'‘THATS NOT WHAT I SAID TY IS LYING TO YOU’

‘nuh uh he totally said that’

‘did not’

‘ok he basically said that’

‘basically and totally arent the same thing’

The conversation was taken over by Troy and Tyreen again until you typed back.

‘wait ok so what did troy say?’

‘all i said was that pineapple on pizza can still be valid if you dont like it’

Tyreen was quick to respond, excited by what she assumed was an admission from Troy.

‘y’know who would say that? people who like pineapple on pizza’

‘I NEVER SAID I LIKE IT I JUST SAID ITS VALID’

‘HOW IS IT VALID???? IT’S AN ABOMINATION TO PIZZA’

‘LISTEN SOME PEOPLE JUST LIKE A BIT OF SWEETNESS TO THEIR PIZZA’

‘ARE YOU SEEING THIS (Y/N)??? IM TELLING YOU HE LIKES PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA’

The chat continued to be flooded with messages of Tyreen accusing Troy of liking pineapple on pizza, while Troy tried his best to explain himself, though you weren’t really sure if he was desperate to make Tyreen believe him, or if he was actually hiding the possibility of him liking pineapple on pizza. The world may never know.

‘whenever we meet up we gotta get troy some pineapple pizza and settle this’

‘YESSS THATS SUCH A GOOD IDEA’

Tyreen typed back excitedly, loving the suggestion, much to Troy’s chagrin you assumed.

‘im not eating pineapple on pizza for you weirdos’

‘besides’

‘even if i would’

‘its not like dad would ever let us go see you’

‘he definitely wouldn’t let you come see us either’

‘not like you could find us anyhow’

Oh. That’s right. You’d nearly forgotten. They’d mentioned before that their dad refused to let them go out. Something about him being super protective of them. Well, even if it wasn’t possible, it was a fun idea to imagine, spending actual, in-person, time with the twins. You would be able to see them face-to-face and fulfill all the other weird plans that stemmed from the strange but fun conversations you had with the twins. They’d told you that it was unrealistic to ever actually see each other, but you still held on to that slight hope that maybe one day you’d be able to finally meet them.

Tyreen texted back.

‘ugh thats right’

‘mannnn’

‘its not like he can actually keep us here all our lives’

‘even if he tried’

‘he won’t be able to stop us >:)’

‘we’ll be so sneaky nd run away’

‘and then we’ll come see u’

‘waddya think troy?’

‘i guess…’

‘but i do wanna see (y/n)’

Tyreen was often playful when she talked with you and Troy, but you wondered if any part of her was serious about that. About running away from her father with Troy. Your thoughts were interrupted as your ECHO device vibrated once again, this time a message from Troy.

‘OH UR NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHAT TYREEN DID LAST NIGHT’

‘SO SHE GOT UP LAST NIGHT CAUSE SHE GOT HUNGRY’

‘AND’

‘TROY DON’T YOU DARE FINISH THAT STORY’

[fragiledewdrop]

TOLKIEN, MYTH AND THE EARLY 20TH CENTURY

A week ago I wrote a post about my excitement in discovering just how much Tolkien took inspiration from Anglo-Saxon poetry.

I was so lost in my little over-emotional bubble that I was genuinely a little surprised when a few people expressed their disappointment in discovering that "The Lord of The Rings" wasn't wholly original. It makes sense, though, so I thought I'd address it.

These are @fortunes-haven ' s tags:

@sataidelenn already wrote an interesting reply, but I'd like to approach the question from a different point of view. Why? Because the first thing I thought about when reading this comment was how I myself have grumbled under my breath about having to wade through someone's "personal mythology smoothie", only I wasn't reading Tolkien. I was reading T. S. Eliot.

Now, I want to preface this by making it clear that I am well aware Tolkien is by no means a modernist. He did, however, write LOTR in England in the late 30s. He was part of the same culture, the same society, and above all the same historical context that produced "The Waste Land" and "Ulysses", and I think we should take that into account when we discuss his work.

Because by the time Tolkien published LOTR, Joyce and Eliot and Yeats had already discussed and applied the mythic method. Was Tolkien aware of their debates? Did he read and appreciate their books? I have no clue. It would take some research to find out, research I currently (unfortunately) don’t have time for. But I do not think it a stretch to suggest that Tolkien might have been moved by the same need that drove other writers to look back at myth, although in very different ways.

Why did Joyce and Eliot feel compelled to return to the narrative roots of mankind? Why did Yeats devote so much time to Celtic lore? Why did Tolkien write a new epic and base it on the Saxon world?

The answer is the same: because they lived at the start of a century that posed more questions than ever, but provided no answers; a century when time and the human mind and the very structure of matter had ceased to be solid, defined, a foundation to rely on; a century torn apart by brutal, inhumane, sensless war.

When you can't find answers in the present and the future is so uncertain it's laughable, you look to the past. Because the thing is, we can talk about "personal mythology" all we want, but myths are never personal. They are universal. They are tied to a specific cultural context, certainly, but they exemplify emotions, truths and tragedies that are common (or supposed to be common) to all humankind, beyond space and time. Myths are supposed to be eternal.

They are also a very effective shorthand to communicate rather complex concepts.

I can write five pages telling my girlfriend that she makes me feel safe, that she is something I've longed for and fought to gain, something I've dreamed about but that I'm scared I'll lose. I could, and I probably wouldn’t be able to convey exactly what I mean.

Or I could say "She is my Ithaca" and you would get it, wouldn’t you?

There are whole books that try to explain the symbolism behind "The Green Knight", but Eliot can offhandedly mention a chapel and he has basically evoked the whole original poem plus the centuries of scolarship that followed.

Tolkien could have had his characters recite long monologues about how they feel like their world has been lost. Instead, he has one of them sing a song by the campfire. An 8th century song, about a warrior in exile. He achieves in a couple of lines what could have taken him a whole book to convey, and he does it in a way that goes straight to the heart, even if we don't know exactly why.

And that's the thing: not all of us spend years researching myths and old poetry. Certainly we don't do it when reading LOTR for the first time, especially if that's when we are 13 or 10 or 8 years old. But we get it anyway. We know myths, especially Western myths, one way or another, as if through cultural osmosis. We understand myths from other cultures too- we may need a bit of context, but we do- and often we find that the bones of the stories are similar, across oceans and centuries.

That means that using myths as the building blocks of your story is an amazingly effective way to cut to the quick, to get to the core of what the narrative is aiming at.

I have seen so many people talk about the feeling they get when reading LOTR, or even just thinking about it: that nostalgia? That bittersweet hurt? That longing for something bright and lost, for a star or a jewel or a land beyond the sea? That, right there. That is what Tolkien achieves by telling stories inside stories, by having his words have a meaning and weight that we would associate with a bard or a preacher, not a fantasy writer. And, as I have discovered recently, it's almost exactly the same feeling you get when reading Saxon poetry.

It's almost as if he chose it on purpose, isn’t it?

That's not all, though.

As both people tagged above(and many others, myself included) have already written, Tolkien doesn’t just use myths as building blocks. He alters them.

Yes, Frodo's hero's journey is not typical. Yes, there are a lot of similarities between the last part of LOTR and the Odissey, but they are not quite the same.

That's because Frodo is not, and can't be, Ulysses. He isn’t a warrior crowned with glory and cunning who reconquers his home and that leaves it because a god has promised him peace if he does. He is a mutilated soldier coming home from the trenches, only to find that he no longer belongs in the home he has bled for.

Frodo is a new hero, for a new age (just like Ulysses was a new hero for a new age, which I rather think is one of the reasons Joyce chose him as the model for his novel. The Odissey was already subversive in and of itself. "An odd duck", as @sataidelenn put it.)

We have to understand just how traumatic WWI was. It's a shift, a break so immense that it changed society, politics, culture, family structures, the idea of hero and even of manhood. The Western World was not the same after 1918. Of course art changed too.

Would Tolkien have written LOTR had he not fought in that war? Probably. But it would have been a very, very different book. The way it deals with war, technology, trauma, peace and friendship-all the things we love about it- are direct fruits of that conflict. I think the way myth fits into it is, too.

I can understand being disappointed that not everything in Lotr is wholly new, wholly Tolkien's invention. It didn’t even occur to be to be, though, because I am used of thinking of it in these terms.

All the myths he uses- from Kullervo to Ulysses to Beowolf to medieval fairy tales- are means to tell a new story. They come back to life, and while we perceive how timeless they are, they end up telling us something that is rooted in time. A new English epic, yes, but very clearly an epic of England between two world wars. A 20th century heroic tale which offers a desperate, brave hope for the future. How can we not love it?

And look, I might joke about personal mythology smoothies to myself all the time, but the reason I keep reading and studying Eliot and Joyce and Yeats is that they do have something new to say, something amazing. You can take them or leave them, love them or hate them, but "unoriginal" is not an adjective you can, in good conscience, apply to their work.

I think, in a weird way, Tolkien is the same.

"In manipulating a continuous parallel between contemporaneity and antiquity, Mr. Joyce is pursuing a method which others must pursue after him. They will not be imitators, any more than the scientist who uses the discoveries of an Einstein in pursuing his own, independent, further investigations. It is simply a way of controlling, of ordering, of giving shape and significance to the immense panorama of futility and anarchy which is contemporary history. It is a method already adumbrated by Mr. Yeats, and of the need for which I believe that Mr. Yeats to have been first contemporary to be conscious. Psychology (such as it is, and whether our reaction to it be comic or serious), ethnology, and The Golden Bough have concurred to make possible what was impossible even a few years ago. Instead of narrative method, we may now use the mythic method. It is, I seriously believe, a step toward making the modern world possible for art." –T.S. Eliot, from Ulysses, Order, and Myth (1923)

[cosmicjoke]

Further thoughts on Levi’s upbringing with Kuchel:

I wrote this as a reply in my original post about Levi’s childhood and Kuchel’s own trauma, but just wanted to put it in a separate post as well, to clarify some of what I meant.

Of course Kuchel loved Levi, absolutely.  I never meant to imply otherwise.  My point is only that, when considering their situation, it’s important to acknowledge that her love alone wouldn’t have been enough to shield him from the misery of the dire poverty and desperation of their circumstances.  She was living a life of destitution, fear and struggle, and that translated to Levi.  Again, we see him in a state of extreme neglect, living in what amounts to a hovel, at most, starving to death, filthy, alone, and waiting to die.  This in no way speaks to a good or secure life or living situation.  This in no way speaks to a situation in which Kuchel was able to adequately provide for her child.  She was a single illness away, essentially, from Levi dying.  When she became ill, that was a death sentence for Levi too.  These things should be considered when talking about Kuchel’s ability to care for her son, I think.

I have no doubt Kuchel did all she could to protect and shield Levi.  But my point is, in her struggle to even protect herself, the task of protecting and shielding him would have been colossal, and realistically, she wouldn’t have entirely been able to.  Another poster suggested that Kuchel wasn’t actually living in the brothel she worked in, which I suppose is possible.  I just assumed she was because we’re never given much indication otherwise.  But even if she wasn’t living in the brothel, I think Levi’s unsurprised non-reaction to Kenny, a strange man he’d never met before, coming into his and his mother’s room and beginning to talk to her, is a pretty strong indication that Kuchel likely brought her clients home with her, and that Levi would have at some point been exposed to what she did for a living.  If she tried to hide it from him by sending him away, or was having sex in alleyways outside where they were living, Levi could have easily seen something like that through the window, he could have wandered back inside or outside and seen, etc...  There’s a million scenarios in which Levi could have been exposed to the life she was living, and again, talking in terms of realism, Kuchel wouldn’t have always been in a strong enough emotional or mental state to keep the damage her work was causing her from Levi either.  It would have had a negative impact on her ability to care for him, to provide for him all of the emotional support a growing child needs.  There’s also just the raw reality that Levi had to watch his mother die in front of him as a result of her work, which is the ultimate indicator of her not being able to shield him from the bleak reality of her life and what she was doing to provide for them.

I bring up again how withdrawn Levi was when Kenny first met him.  He hardly spoke, and wasn’t at all open or talkative or friendly.  That indicates that he was maladjusted socially.  He wasn’t taught good social skills, wasn’t taught to be good at conversation or how to make friends, etc...  and I think this likely has a lot to do with Levi being kept isolated and alone, and with Kuchel not being able to provide those things for him, too preoccupied with providing the most basic necessities, like just trying to keep Levi alive.  Things like socializing him and playing with him and spending quality time with him would have taken a back seat to simply trying to make enough money to feed and cloth him.  And again, we see from the state Levi is in when Kenny finds him, the rags he’s dressed in and his state of starvation, that Kuchel wasn’t able with any consistency or certainty to provide even those basic things.  Not from lack of effort, I know.  Again I’m not questioning Kuchel’s devotion to her child.  I’m just saying that we have to consider Kuchel’s own circumstances to understand how those things which I’m sure she wanted to give to Levi, wouldn’t have been so easily provided as the fandom sometimes makes it seem.  If she couldn’t provide adequate food or shelter or warmth for him on a consistent basis, then things like spending social time with him wouldn’t have been able to be provided on a consistent basis either.

Kuchel didn’t choose to go Underground to work as a prostitute.  This isn’t a life that she actively sought and strove for.  The very fact she’s underground at all speaks to it not being so much a choice, but a path taken in desperation.  The Underground isn’t safe at all.  It’s where people who are rejects from society end up, either outright criminals, or persecuted groups like the Ackerman’s.  But it’s anonymous, which is why criminals flee down there, because they can escape the law, and so Kuchel could have left her real identity behind, and nobody would know who she was, because the people of the Underground aren’t registered citizens above, and are by and large ignored by the authorities above. The Ackerman’s were being hunted in general.  The few members that fled to the countryside were still persecuted and struggled to make any kind of a living, experiencing poverty even above.  It wasn’t safe for them anywhere on the surface, I imagine.  Kenny stayed because Kenny is a violent man capable of taking care of himself.  But Kuchel was just a young woman, maybe even a girl, and she was alone.  So I don’t think one can classify her going Underground and becoming a prostitute as a decision she made with full agency or choice.  The poverty and desperation she was living in speaks to it being a forced situation in which she had no other options.  She didn’t end up in a situation in which she was financially stable or secure, or living comfortably.  She was living at the least in a single room, with no comforts, with no luxuries of any kind, barely able to keep her child alive, and herself eventually succumbing to disease.  With Levi being born, if she’d been capable and able to make it above, I’m sure she would have at least tried, if for nothing else, then to give Levi a better life.  But she wasn’t able to because she had nothing.  No resources, no recourse, no options. She also knew if she went above, she would continue to be hunted, and Levi in turn would be hunted too, which adds just another layer of desperation and no other options to Kuchel’s circumstances. So I just think these things are vital to understand when assessing what Levi’s situation was like in the first few years of his life with his mother.  They weren’t good years.  They were full of struggle and hardship and desperation, and that struggle and hardship and desperation would have made it incredibly hard for Kuchel to give Levi everything he needed, to take care of him in even the most basic ways a parent is expected provide for their child.  Kuchel’s own trauma needs to be addressed, I think, to fully understand Levi’s.

[nadia-zahra]

The Rain Fight and my new take on it

while rereading my analysis on st3 Mike and the rain fight I had a lil "oh shit I have a different view on this now" moment.

In my analysis, I said it was miscommunication, and to some extent, it is... just not in the way I've explained previously.

My og take was that it was Mike taking Will's, "you're ruining everything and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!" as 'you're ruining everything because you like making out with El who is stupid' instead of what Will really meant: you're ruining everything because you're straight. And then I wrote off Mike's response of "El's not stupid and it's not my fault you don't like girls" as him trying to say 'it's not my fault you haven't grown up yet' instead of 'it's not my fault you're gay'

But nowadays I'm like 95% sure that this fight was in fact "you're ruining everything because you like girls" "it's not my fault you're gay".

First off, MIKE IS GAY (imo) and, atp in the show, he was battling against internalized homophobia. His response of "...it's not my fault you don't like girls" sounds like hardcore projecting; especially when we know it's in response to Will taking a stab at Mike's sexuality.

Here's where I think the miscommunication lies: neither Mike nor Will know they are both 1) in the closet 2) into each other. Both of them just think the other is straight, and are alone in their feelings for the other.

So when Will said, "You're ruining everything and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!", he wasn't intentionally going below the belt because he genuinely thinks Mike is straight and into El. However, from Mike's pov that was basically getting called out for using El as a beard. Mike got so freaking defensive from Will's words because he wasn't ready to admit to himself that he's gay or selfishly using El.

Mike projects at Will, "It's not my fault you don't like girls," and also unintentionally hits below the belt because he thinks Will is straight and just hasn't gotten past the 'ewww cooties' stage of childhood. Will is canonically gay, so his reaction to this makes sense-- he takes it as 'it's not my fault you're gay' and becomes stunned by the fact his crush/bff (the guy who's protected him from homophobic bullies) is now spewing the same homophobic bullshit.

However, Mike's response to Will's reaction doesn't make sense... unless he's gay and still projecting his true desires, making them seem like ridiculous hypotheticals. *cough* Wanting to spend the rest of their lives together playing dnd and subtly saying they'd live together forever *cough*. And Will's response of "Yeah I guess I did. I really did" thankfully doesn't have any blurred lines to read through and he really is just stating, 'yeah, I really thought we'd be together forever'.

Second off, I think I had that initial perspective on the rain fight because the duffers said (back when this was still a hot topic) that this was supposed to be taken simply as Mike meaning 'it's not my fault you haven't grown up yet' because Will's sexuality was still in the dark atp in time and they've been known to bend the truth in order to not spoil anything. However, with hindsight (and confirmation that Will is gay) we know Will took it as Mike being a homophobe.

So, with that being said, Mike's pov on the rainfight is still kinda in murky waters-- no one fully knows why tf he said what he said or how he took Will's words.

The last thing I'm going to say in this unplanned analysis, so that way I can go back to prepping for my s4 Mike analysis is this: If in st5 when it's revealed Mike has feelings for Will and is gay (or some type of queer person), does this mean that with hindsight we'll be able to know exactly what was being said in the rain fight?