#may your ink flow free and run ever present with your imagination

[webrokethe4thwall]

The Turtle Fam is chilling in the Lair, enjoying each other's company while doing their own thing. April is struck by a random question and needs to know what the others think about it. Sibling bonding follows.

@tallgirl14

[look-ma-im-on-tv]

Crying

Dark Side!Roman

AO3 Link

Warnings: Self-harm by hitting, descriptions of anxiety, yelling, caps, let me know of any I need to add!

Description: Hurt/Comfort. Roman is devastated, and all he seems to do is make things worse, so he takes himself out of the situation. And since his feelings seem to make everything worse, he gets rid of those too.

Pairings: Familial... everyone I don't remember what that's called anymore.

I was possessed to write this I stg.

Crying.

Roman felt tears streaming down his face. Everyone just stared at him, curious expressions, but he couldn’t recognize even a hint of concern on their faces. He was frozen, unmoving, chains pulling every part of him down and tying him to the floor. His feet couldn’t lift, his lips couldn’t form words, his lungs couldn’t take in air. He was waiting for something but he didn’t know what. Permission to leave? For everyone else to leave? He wouldn’t know until it happened, and until that point, he was stuck here watching everyone stare at him.

Someone started to speak. To criticise him, he was sure, though he couldn’t make out their words through the fog in Roman’s head. The only thing he could do was fight at the invisible chains, desperately hoping that he’d leave. He was making a fool of himself, sitting here, crying. Just crying. Over his own damn mistake. The tips of his fingers tingled numbly. His short fast breathing felt as if it threatened to rip him apart.

Roman was shaking. He needed out. He needed free. He ripped at his arms, and finally convinced himself to sink out as fast as he could, knocking the breath out of himself in the process.

Roman’s familiar room carpet felt rough under his palms, scratchy, digging, too much. He yanked his hands up to his chest as fast as he could, kneeling on the floor of his room. A sob escaped him, with a wave of tears following. Roman sneered at himself. He was being such a bad person. He just had to run away. After something that was entirely his fault. How could he do this to them? He only ever made everything worse, he knew it. He felt his hand make a sharp movement, and a harsh thud against his thigh. Roman curled in from the pain. He felt his own eyes gloss over, tears suddenly stopping. He fell down onto his side, the rough carpet digging into his cheek.

He laid there, nearly unmoving, for hours or minutes. He couldn’t tell. Every time he felt stinging in his eyelids, from whatever painful thought came to his mind, a more painful thud followed. Harsh thoughts came by, they really don’t want you anyways; they’re happy you’re gone; they barely put up with you already, why would they come for you?

You’re just a villain.

Roman cried out, curling tighter into himself. The thought felt like a blade plunging into his chest. The world around him darkened in his vision, he was gasping for breath. He could barely feel himself move. It felt like he was dying.

Thud, thud, thud.

His tears kept coming, for so long. He kept crying. Sometimes he would completely fall apart, sobbing and screaming, then just as suddenly as it came on, it would stop. He’d lay there on the floor, silent, limbs throbbing with pain.

Roman felt bruises developing and smiled dryly. Eventually, everything slowed. And everything stopped. He could feel his heart beating and slowing in his chest. His fingers, his hands, felt numb. Felt separate from him. He held his hands out in front of him and noticed absently that a deep black color was bleeding out from the center of his palms and from each of his knuckles. His eyes burned every time he blinked. He shut his eyes tight, thick tears wetting his eyelashes once more. But this time, there was nothing behind them, no feeling, and no thud following.

Roman opened his eyes and from the small amount of his room he could see, he realized he couldn’t stand any of this anymore. His noble decorations, his stark white outfit, the royal red he once so admired; it all made him sick. Without moving a muscle, it all suddenly began to change. The little crowns and stars and hearts cracked in two. A black ink spot began in the middle of his chest, spreading in every direction until it reached the cuffs of his sleeves and the hems of his pants. And the red in his room bled out, disappearing and leaving only a dark grey behind. Roman managed a glance around the room, and was almost pleased with it all. It was far more fitting than the mirage he previously had surrounding him.

At the head of the room was a single chair. It replaced any other furnishing that was previously in the room. A lavish chair, black, and with shining gold decorations. Roman could just spot it out of the corner of his eye. And before he could even blink, he was sitting upright in it, one leg crossed over the other.

And like before, Roman was chained. But it was different this time. He didn’t want to escape. He didn’t feel the panic, the fear, the pain. And he knew what he was waiting for this time. Even if he wasn’t fully sure it was ever going to happen.

He was waiting for them. Whether they would be coming to stop him or save him didn’t matter, though the latter seemed very impossible. Roman was going to stay out of things. He wasn’t going to come and ruin things for everyone. However, if there was any chance they may come for him, he may as well look presentable.

Roman hadn’t come back. Everyone tried their best to give him his space, they weren’t sure what else to do. But usually, if someone needed space, they came back after a day or two. But it had been weeks, and everyone was sick of waiting.

“He can’t just not come back. Thomas needs more than half of his creativity. This is becoming a problem. How selfish does he have to-”

“Virgil, be patient with him.” Logan corrected him. “If he requires time alone, we should let him have it.”

“I know. I’m just…”

“Angry. I understand. But we must give him his time.”

“But-!” Patton shouted, “we can’t just leave him you guys! What if he’s hurt?”

Remus nodded. “Daddy here’s right, I’m not just leaving him with his thoughts. He’s not even letting me get to him through the imagination, it’s like he’s just… vanished.”

“Yeah! I’d want someone to come and try to care for me if I felt bad.” Patton continued.

Logan cocked his head to the side. “Well, that seems to be a tied vote. Janus? Do you have an opinion of your own that you might like to share?”

Janus raised his eyebrows. “Me?” He hummed. “I could get used to this. I suppose we should check on him. I mean, there is no chance he’s actually wanting us to come but is simply too afraid to ask.”

“Three to two. I suppose we can go check on him, so long as we do our best not to intrude.”

“Field trip!” Remus giggled.

Virgil groaned. “Can’t you at least try to take this seriously?”

Remus stopped in his tracks and turned to him with a completely stoic face. “No.” He shook his head. “No.” And as if the conversation never happened, he continued skipping away with a manic smile towards Roman’s room while everyone else sank out.

They all gathered in front of Roman’s room.

Patton gasped. “Is that his door?”

“It’s where it used to be, but…”

“It’s currently black, that’s odd. Why would his door change colors?”

“Well, that explains a lot for me at least! It’s been a pain in the ass to keep re-dying this!” Remus shouted, just approaching. But, suddenly he was different. His outfit adorned the bright white of Roman’s, and the green was slowly trying to fade into red.

Virgil nearly lunged at him. “What? You didn’t think to tell us anything about this? What, did you think it was funny?”

“Well, this is clearly far more significant than I originally assumed. Since you two are connected, this is likely an effect sourcing from Roman himself. We need to get in there immediately.”

Patton started urgently knocking on the door, poorly feigning calmness. “Roman? Kiddo? What’s up in there? Can you let us in?”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Knocking is definitely the best strategy.”

“Well, what else should we do? It’s not like we can just break-”

“Remus, will you please break down the door?”

Before Janus could even finish his sentence, Remus already had his morning star raised and ready to strike. He swung it down, and a huge crack! came from the wood splintering. It wasn’t broken yet. Remus swung again, and again, tears beginning to pool in his eyes with every hit.

“Just! Let! Us! In!” Remus swung again, and the door gave way, making Remus fall through the pieces with the remaining force of his swing. He sat on the floor of his brother’s room, if you could even tell that’s what it was. It looked completely different.

Everyone else spilled in behind Remus, and stopped. The room was all black, with all sorts of the old decorations, papers, crafts, everything torn up and thrown across the floor. It was nearly impossible to see anything it was so dark, if it weren’t for the golden glow coming from across the room. In the center of the glow was a black throne, a dark figure sitting in it.

“Roman?”

His clothes were entirely black, save for some gold trim. And his face had dark black tear streaks that looked like flowing rivers of tar on his cheeks. His hands were pitch black and disconnected at the wrists. And the only trace of emotion on his face was a staged, cold smile.

“I’ve been waiting.”

Remus stood, weapon at the ready. “What have you done with my brother!?” he screeched.

“What are you talking about? I am your brother. The only difference is that I’m not pretending that I’m the hero anymore. That was a stupid idea to begin with, so I’m sure you understand.” His voice was monotone, with no trace of feeling or emotion, just flat and dead.

Patton’s own tears started spilling over. “What are you talking about? You are a hero, Roman! What happened?”

“I realized the truth. I make problems. Impulse decisions that hurt Thomas, because I felt too much. I was too emotional. So I took my feelings, and myself, out of it.”

“Emotions are an important part of Thomas, Roman. You should understand that.”

“No, you should understand, Logan. Thomas’ emotions are important. Not the ones I put into everything.” Roman’s hand waved away the conversation. “Besides, he’s got a different creativity, why would he need two? You seem to be doing so much better with me gone. You’re not fighting as much.”

“Bitch, I can’t be the only creativity! You know we had things the way we did for a reason, asshole! Now give me my brother back!”

“You are an integral part of Thomas as you were, Roman.”

“Roman, please! You know that’s not true!”

The scattered objects surrounding them flew up into the air and started spinning. “QUIET!” Roman shouted. “You’re all WRONG!”

The right hand, completely separate from Roman himself, curled up into a fist and slammed into the side of his face. Remus lunged at him, but was suddenly ripped back and thrown towards the back of the wall. Roman gasped, then returned to a completely stoic expression.

Roman’s eyes had a tinge of concern. “Remus? Are you hurt?”

Remus was already standing again. “No. Not at all, no thanks to you, dickwad!” He started to charge again, barely reaching the same point before he was thrown backward again.

“It’s not exactly… Well, it shouldn’t hurt anyways. But you can’t get too close. I can’t let you.”

“What did you want us here for if you won’t even let us approach?”

“I was just waiting in case you came. I didn’t expect you to. I guess it’s just a chance for you to know where I ended up. If you want, you can leave now.”

Virgil mustered everything he could and took a step forward. “We’re not gonna abandon you, princey. Not like this.”

“And what’s wrong with ‘this?’ I like ‘this’ perfectly fine, you can go.”

Janus stepped forward with Virgil. “We both know that isn’t the truth. This isn’t a solution to feeling bad. This is only hurting you more.”

“Why would you want to help me? Either of you?” Roman shook his head. “And anyway, that’s the thing. I don’t feel bad. I can’t now. It’s perfect. I can’t make those mistakes anymore. I won’t call either of you names, because I have no feelings to make me lash out. It’s perfect.”

“But you can’t feel good either, Roman!” Patton pleaded. “There’s a reason we have emotions, don’t you like feeling happy?”

“I…” Something flickered in his eyes. “Even ‘good’ feelings only caused problems. Those are the ones that made me choose things that would only be bad for Thomas. Like… a chance in a lifetime callback.” He chuckled dryly, his breath catching partway through. His expression changed, a frown and furrowed brows. “I…” The hands curled up and pressed into his eyes. Then, just as suddenly as he had started, he shot back up into the same pose and expression as before. It was almost as if it was a whole other person sitting there. “I promise, I’ve thought this through. It’s the best option for everyone.”

“Well, we didn’t exactly get to vote on it, did we?”

Roman laughed. “Are you kidding me? Why are you all trying to stop this? You have to pick one you know! You can’t just want me there when it’s convenient for you! All I did was make mistakes, so I took myself out of it! And now… That’s a mistake too? No! No, you’re wrong. I know what I’m doing. I’m helping!” A tear spilled out of his eye, and he winced in anticipation. Thud. Thud. Thud.

With every hit, someone ran forward, trying to stop it before just being tossed backward. It wasn’t supposed to hurt them, but Roman couldn’t focus enough to be gentle. Patton, Remus, and Virgil lay at the back of the room, the breath knocked out of their lungs.

Logan and Janus stood still in the middle of the room.

Roman’s head shot up, the hands returning next to his wrists. His face was covered even more in the thick tear streaks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His voice was cracking with the effort to keep it steady. “You need to leave. All of you. I thought that I was better already, but I’m not. If you ever want to visit you- no. No, you can’t visit. That’ll make things worse. So just… Get out.”

“We aren’t leaving you, Roman.”

“It can be tempting to shut yourself away from the world, and away from feelings and emotions, however, you need to realize that this isn’t healthy.”

He shook his head. “Stop telling me I’m wrong. I don’t care what you think, you just need to leave.”

“Roman, none of us are bad, including you. You just need to-”

“I said STOP! You’re making things worse by being in here. If you won’t leave on your own I’ll make you leave. Why won’t you just listen to me? It’s for your own good!”

Logan started, “Roman, we-” and disappeared.

“What did you do with him?” Janus demanded.

“He’s not hurt! I just... sent him to his room and closed the door.” He paused for a moment. “Goodbye.”

And Janus disappeared too. Remus, Virgil, and Patton sat up against the wall furthest from Roman.

“You have to leave too. I’m sorry. Bye.”

“Wait!” Patton shouted. “Roman?”

He froze. “What? You can’t convince me to stop this.”

“I think I know that. But for what it’s worth… You’re my hero, Roman. I’ll see ya later.” Patton turned to the other two and smiled. “Good luck, I think you got this. You can get through to him I’m sure.” Patton sunk out.

The room got darker, and Roman’s hands clasped over his ears. “No! No, you can’t just-!” He shook his head, his breathing erratic.

Virgil and Remus nodded to each other, and Virgil stood up.

“Roman? Can you hear me?”

“Quiet! You can’t-!”

“I know. It’s scary. Trust me, I get that. But it’s okay! You can feel bad!”

“No!”

“Yes, you can! You’re strong enough.”

Thick tears poured down his face. “I- It just ruins things!”

“I know what that feels like! But even the parts you think are bad are important.”

“You don’t-”

Virgil took a few steps forward. “Yes, I do! Roman, I’ve ducked out! I know what you’re going through! But you’re just as important as everyone else, emotions and all. You do a lot of good for Thomas. For everyone!”

A sob broke through. “I don’t-”

“Yes you do, Roman. You’re so important. And we care about- no, we love you, Roman. You’re part of the family. You know that.”

“I’m… You… No! I can’t-!” The hands raised up, ready to strike, but stopped in their place. Roman blinked, and Virgil disappeared.

Remus stood. “Virgil? Shit!” It was his turn now. He stepped closer. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Roman’s head snapped up, the hands lowering. “Remus? You’re… still here?”

“Of course I am! Now cut this shit out!”

“What… no, no, I’m not going to. I have to keep this.”

“Why? It’s ridiculous!”

“No, it’s not! It’s helping!”

Remus took another step. “How is this supposed to be helping? You just threw me against a wall!”

“That was an accident! I didn’t-”

Remus groaned. “It’s fine. Just stop all this.”

Roman cried, “I can’t!” His head hung down. “I can’t stop any of this!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s… safe! If I just stay in here and don’t feel anything, and you all stay out, no one can get hurt!”

He just had to get close enough. “Getting hurt is part of life, dumbass! But it’s worth it because so is everything else. You get to be happy, you get to have people who care for you!”

“They don’t really ca-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence, you know that’s a goddamn lie! Why else would we come here?” Remus sighed and shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Ro-bro, we care about you a lot. No one wants to leave you here to rot.”

“Ro… You haven’t called me that in years.”

He was almost there. “We’ve both fucked up, okay? Just cause we’re different doesn’t mean we should fucking fight about it.”

Roman didn’t respond. Remus stepped closer.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure that out later, when you’re back.”

“I just don’t want to be the bad guy. I’m sorry that I made you take that role.”

“I know you don’t. You’re not the bad guy. Neither of us are.” He was close enough now. “Roman, you can still be the hero.” Remus kneeled in front of the throne, tears spilling down his own face. “You just need to come back, Ro-bro. It’ll be okay.”

Roman smiled sadly and limply collapsed into Remus, his own hands clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

“Please… please don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to, Ro-bro.” Roman closed his eyes.

The door behind them swung open, smacking the wall next to it. Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Janus came running through. The brothers were back to their proper colors.

Virgil hesitated. “Is he… okay?”

Remus wiped his face. “Yeah, I think he will be. Let’s get him out of this shithole though, he’s been here for long enough.”

Remus stood up and carried Roman to the door. Everyone else stood there.

“What… happened?”

“A lot. But he’s better now. Meet you all downstairs at the couch. Don’t come empty-handed, it’s movie night.” And he walked away.

Virgil and Janus brought down as many blankets and pillows as they could find; Logan grabbed the movies and a special weighted blanket for Roman, and Patton supplied the food and hot chocolate.

Roman was situated in the middle of everyone, still sleeping. When he did wake up, a couple of movies in, everyone smiled at him.

“What…” His eyes widened. “Are- are you all okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Roman. We’re here for you, and we’re all okay.” Patton beamed, “I’m so proud of you for making it through that.”

“But I…”

“That must have been horrific to go through, but you were very brave,” Janus added.

“You’re all okay? I don’t… remember much. But I-” Roman tried to sit up suddenly, and winced. “I- you were flying at the wall and- are you sure you’re okay?” Remus, Virgil, and Patton nodded.

“We’re fine, Princey. We promise.”

“I… I’m so tired.”

“Well, there’s no way we can tell quite how long it’s been since you slept, so that’s not exactly unexpected.”

Janus agreed. “You should rest Roman, it will be good for you.”

“But, you-”

“We’ll all be here when you wake up kiddo, let yourself rest.”

“Re? You…”

“Quiet, I’m taking a nap too.” He smiled, genuinely. “It’s a lot of work saving your ass Ro-bro. We should get back to sleep.” He closed his eyes. “We’re both heroes for getting through all that today. We can talk later.” He paused. “And if I’m not here when you wake up, you can always come get me. We’re there for each other.”

Roman felt his tears on his cheeks, but they were good this time. He felt so warm, and safe, and loved. He let himself breathe, lay his head down, and close his eyes. He was finally relaxed, and happy. Roman fell asleep, surrounded by everyone he cared about, with a smile on his face.

Heroes.

[azurevi]

on land where we can touch the moon (2/?)

PART 1 PART 3

A quick note- this is pretty messy. I'm planning as I write, so there'll be information scattered across the words, and it may be overwhelming...kinda. I have added a little note about what happened in this chapter in the end. This series is also up on ao3.

There is, naturally, a reason Azul was stuck with the name 'The Sea Merchant'.

It wasn't a bad name, and there was no hint of degradation in it. It just wasn't particularly suiting. Azul wasn't a merchant. He wasn't even a shopkeeper. He was just invested in a little magic, and this hobby of his got leaked out somehow. 

His magic was certainly something. It's A Deal allowed him to confiscate another person's valued quality in exchange for their wish. Anything could come to life as long as the deal was equal.

Only the drunk and people in desperate need of help ever went to him for help. After Azul had started mastering his magic, he reckoned that it hadn't been used to its full potential. If the person on the other side of the deal failed to meet the requirement, Azul could take even more from them without suffering any loss. 

And so he sugarcoated and exaggerated his words, put up the most professional smile he could manage. For a few weeks all was well. He'd gained himself a melodious voice, splendid flexibility and a ton of unique magics, but nothing great ever lasted. He was soon exposed as a scammer and his notoriety was whispered among the streets, passed on and on until every family warned their kids not to ever run into him. And Azul, with his fame and prosperity wilting under the gossip and points of fingers, was forced into giving up his success.

He had been in hiding ever since.

He could never understand how something as atrocious could happen to him. If it hadn't been for the sneers and isolation in the entirety of his childhood, he wouldn't have grown up hating everything and everyone around him that called him ugly, unwanted, repulsive. It should've justified his desire for revenge.

Instead, God decided that his suffering was not anywhere close to enough and kicked him down the cliff where he was crying for help.

That being said, Azul was grateful to have Jade and Leech sticking around after everything. The two of them were also unpopular among others, so they eventually got close as a tight-knitted trio.

"No you didn't," Jade said firmly. 

"I did, Jade. I did," Azul sighed, "They were dying, Jade, I couldn't just let them die,"

"Well, you should've."

"Don't be so uptight. Azul was doing the right thing, wasn't he?" Floyd winked. "So. Were they good-looking?"

"What?"

"The human. You must've saved them for a reason,"

Azul hated how Floyd's words implied that he would never do good unless there was something in it for him, but one could never lie in the face of truth. 

"I just didn't want to let them die. It was their birthday,"

"What does that have to do with everything?" Jade asked. "You went above the water. You saved a human. You were almost caught. You could've died up there, you know. How did you even manage to breathe?"

"I just… did." Azul said, twirling his tentacles in nervousness. Jade was entirely disapproving of his actions, while Floyd on the contrary seemed to be mildly intrigued. 

Everything still felt like a fever dream. All the fireworks and cheering and explosion were still vividly scorched into his mind as if they'd been put on repeat. The splendid colors, light giggles and- 

And those beautiful eyes of yours. The way your hair flowed in the night sky with ease, how you laughed like tomorrow was promised and your life had been planned out before you, a clear and untainted path to success. Azul couldn't decide on whether he was jealous or amazed.

"Well, you better hope they didn't really see you, or that they forgot about it. If the humans come down here to hunt us down-" Jade couldn't even bear to finish the imagination. He simply shook his head in dismay.

"I swear I saw someone! I couldn't have just been washed ashore!"

"Apparently, you were," Jack said, stroding with large steps that had you panting to keep up. "Near-death experiences do things to our mind, your majesty,"

"That may be the case for others, but I'm sure I was conscious," you retorted. "I woke up to a pair of pale, azure eyes, then in a blink they were behind the rock. If it hadn't been for you-"

"I apologize for worrying about you, your majesty."

You bit your tongue. Fighting with Jack always ended with him being passive-aggressive and you stepping back reluctantly. Plus he was as stern as a rock. Almost nothing could move his belief.

Shouting and grunting could be heard from inside the medical room where Ace, Deuce and Grim were being tended to.

Jack flung open the door, and the three stumbled to get into the blankets and put on a excruciated expression.

"I see you're all healed up," Jack said. Ace hummed lowly and slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. 

"I'm at death's door, commander. It pains me to say this, but I might need to take more days off,"

Jack was quiet for a while, and you could almost see a drop of sweat sliding down Ace's forehead.

"And you, Deuce?" Jack challenged.

"I'm traumatized," 

"And Grim?"

You arched your brow, at which he shivered in fear. "I- I'm feeling fine already,"

"So it's just Ace and Deuce, right?" Jack said. Ace and Deuce nodded their heads so hard they could fall off.

"Alright. Your health is of utmost importance to us, so I'll contact the Raven Healer…"

"The what?!" Deuce's voice croaked.

"The Raven Healer. Surely you've heard of him. He's best known for being able to treat any diseases, both mentally and physically,"

You were sure there were sweats rolling down Ace's cheeks now. "But- but doesn't he heal by using bizzare mediciness…?"

"Oh yes. His magic is what makes him such an infallible doctor. You two seem to be in a lot of pain. I'm sure he'll free you of your suffering."

You turned sharply towards the door and stifled a laughter. 

"That's… not very necessary…" Deuce's voice faltered word by word. He was fully aware that he'd already lost. "You know what, commander? I think I can dive back into work right this instant!"

Jack smirked smugly. "Splendid. And you, Ace?"

The two of them stared at each other so intensely there seemed to be sparkles between them. Finally, Ace gave in. "I'll start work tomorrow,"

They didn't even wait for Jack to walk completely out of the door to whine. They looked fully healthy, even more energized than you.

"Anyways, did you find your saviour?"

You sighed. Ace and Deuce were still skeptical about your 'story', which you'd corrected to 'experience', but at least they were open-minded. 

"No clues. I've had guards patrolling about every two hours. Nothing has yet to happen,"

They eyed each other uneasily, then back at you with a worried face. Before they could make assumptions, you defended yourself. "No, I'm not sick. My head's not concussed,"

"Well," Grim scurried to your lap. "Perhaps your saviour doesn't wish to be found?"

That'd be unwanted. You would wish for anything but to create troubles for your lifesaver. Nonetheless, you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep without sending your gratitude. 

Alright, there might be a selfish motif. You were admittedly curious about those light, pensive eyes and silvery, gleaming hair under sunlight. All these unknown were like a gravity pool, pulling you deeper and deeper into the mystery.

"Well, you ought not to lose hope," Ace patted your shoulder casually, like you weren't the princette of the kingdom he was serving for. "Maybe you'll actually run into him. Fate has a weird habit for setting unexpected traps."

It wasn't so much love as a tender curiosity, but the line segregating them was so flimsy that one's got to mix them up at some point.

Azul found himself in such a dilemma. He couldn't decide whether it was attraction or nosiness that he was feeling. Either way, it's got him hooked like a drug. Something beautiful had finally entered his life like light piercing through a thick fog of ink, and it was possessive. Azul had a feeling that it wouldn't go away until it had drained him of his mind.

The door to his room was thrown open and Azul had to hide the peeled petals and green stem in a jumble. He had been chanting 'they love me, they love me not' for the past hour. To his luck, Jade and Leech didn't seem to have noticed his haste expression. They were both panting when they swam inside.

"What's wrong?" Azul's first instinct was that something had gone south.

"There-" Floyd wheezed. "There's a sta-"

"There's a fallen statue in the Coral Maze," Jade finished the sentence. "People are fussing over it,"

"Okay," Azul eased back into his bed. He'd already lost interest at 'Coral Maze'. It was at the centre of where the majority of sea creatures inhabited. Nothing could make him go anywhere near civilization and its hubristic aesthetic again.

Or so he thought.

"No- you don't get it. It's a statue of a human that sank along with wreckages of a big ship, and it's made of gold,"

A statue made of gold.

He recalled it now. It was supposed to be your birthday present. The consternation of what followed the present revelation had been so intense that it'd washed the memory of the statue out.

"We just thought that it could be the statue you mentioned in your story, you know? It looked really grand…" Floyd sighed.

Azul wanted to get up and swim over right there, right then, but he knew he couldn't. What would others say to him the moment they saw the shadows of their tentacles crawling on their pure and oh-so royal ground? What accusations would they throw his way? How many children will be led away from him like he was some man-eating, brutal abomination?

Not to mention the unforgiving rage he'd evoked in trying to scam them in the past. Dishonesty was highly criticised in their high-class society. It was as if they were saints that had never done one thing wrong. Bet they'd never even stayed up past midnight.

"You ought to come take a look!" Floyd suggested. A casual, friendly proposal.

"No," Azul snapped. "No, no. I'm not going there,"

"They're planning to use the gold," Jade said. "You know how they are. They see one thing from the ground and start screeching in pain,"

They were going to use your statue. The statue that was perhaps the only thing that was related to you, the one way to never have to forget about you again in case that you never met again.

And to imagine the effect it'd add to his collections! A big gold statue in the centre of his grotto, accentuated by the sparkling of other jewelries. It'd be complete.

"I'll sit on it," Azul decided. He was not to act rashly, lest he walked one step wrong and brought upon himself misery and misfortune. If he really was to pay a visit, he would act in secret. Perhaps in the veil of the night. 

"Just don't act alone, okay?" Jade said. Azul nodded despite not paying any mind to him.

In the dead of the night Azul decided to sneak out. Alone. It was a mistake, really. Azul couldn't stop thinking about your statue, and by the time he realized how absurd it was, he'd already gone to the Coral Maze.

There was nary a shadow except his own. Still, it was much lighter than where he lived even at night. The distorted image of the moon waved from above as Azul made his way through the many identical corals. Then he finally found your majestic statue standing solemnly in the centre. The only beauty in the water.

It was a sight for sore eyes. White, pure light reflected off the gold and created streams of gleams onto the ground. That someone would ever find it to be disgraceful was incomprehensible to Azul. Something like this deserved to be put on display in the museum for all to see.

There was no radiance on your face and no splendid colors in your eyes. It was merely a fraction of what you were. Nonetheless, it was enough for Azul.

"Who's roaming there?" an alerted voice asked. When Azul turned, he saw a silhouette looming from outside the Coral Maze, holding two anglerfishes in hands and waving them in the water.

Panic was the only thing Azul felt as he hid behind the statue, struggling to keep his tentacles out of sight. The light stayed right in front of him for a while before skimming away.

Azul grabbed the statue and swam, pushing his tentacles through the water as hard as he could. 

"Wait there- oh goodness!" 

There were several voices now, mumbling and inquiring. Then light was casted upon his flitting figure and there were bemused gasps before someone yelled, "Seize him!"

Azul was out of breath. He wished he excelled in fitness but instead he was stuck with incongruous tentacles that would never cooperate at the most needed times.

A hand grasped the end of his tentacle but slipped off. He kept the statue tight in his arms, as if his life depended on it. He could tell that they were near now, and was trying very hard not to imagine the gruesome outcomes.

Someone grabbed his tentacles. He faltered and was pulled back despite protests.

"Keep him in place!" another person yelled as the crowd moved to keep Azul fenced in.

Azul couldn't see anything. Everything was a poor mixture of shadow and distaste and sneers. He was probably going to die right there.

"I can't believe you have the guts to come back, Ashengrotto. After all the things you've done!" someone spoke up.

"Yeah! How shameless of you!”

"And he's stealing our properties now! Imagine how desperate he is,"

"You guys don't even want it!" Azul said.

Some guy lurched forward. Azul cowered backwards.

"It's disgusting, yes, but it's still gold." he said as if it was a completely just thing to do. "It landed on our ground, so it belongs to us. On the contrary, you don't have the rights to lay your filthy hands on it. What more do you want to steal from us?"

"I'm taking this because none of you understand the beauty of it!"

This evoked a negative reaction from the crowd, but words could never be taken back. Azul could feel his heart pounding like a prisoner hellbent on escaping. He had to escape. No more of this degrading gazes. No more of the points of fingers.

"Beauty?" the guy scoffed, and for a moment his face scrunched up and he was ready to spit out rage, but then it softened into a smug smirk. "I guess only ugly understands ugly, huh?"

Azul's head throbbed.

"It doesn't justify your actions, ink-blasting thief. Hand that piece of trash over right- uff!"

He was flung deep into the water until he disappeared into nothing but a black dot. People around Azul immediately made way as they fled in screams and wails. His tentacle was still tingling with the impact, but he couldn't quite feel it. Even if he did, he couldn't care less as he skyrocketed to the surface of the water. He blinked and blinked, but his eyes were still blurred by what would be mixed into the seawater eventually. 

He'd had enough. Heard enough, seen enough. If he'd spent one more second down there he would have suffocated to death.

The familiar freshness of air welcomed him the moment he broke through the water's persistence. The land wasn't far ahead. He swam towards it as if it was his sanctuary. 

There was a man sitting on the rock, face hidden under the hood. Azul considered retreating. He had no idea what would happen to him if he was spotted, but nothing better would happen if he were to go back. So he continued swimming and crawled onto the cool soft sand, only letting his head be seen by the man as he hid behind yet another rock where he placed the much valued statue.

He seemed to be asleep, chest heaving up and down at a steady pace. Just as Azul started sliding out, the man raised his head and looked straight at Azul.

They were a pair of humming, white circles, seemingly void of any sentiments. The man had a mask on that shielded his face except for his tightly shut lips. Two crows were staring right at him with the same uncanny manner.

"You've finally arrived," the man said.

Probably the humans had been searching for him. Azul decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I've been hearing your calls…" he tilted his head. "You can come out. I know what you are,"

Azul still hesitated. But he was much closer to the ocean than to the guy, so he slowly let his tentacles into light.

The man remained calm, not a bit taken back by the revelation.

"Well, I've been hearing your calls…" he resumed.

"I never called out to any humans,"

"Not literally. But you have been calling out a lot," he smiled amiably. "You have to know that it's especially hard for me to hear from creatures undersea, so if your wishes managed to reach me, it means you're pretty desperate,"

"I think you have the wrong person," Azul said and started retreating.

The guy sprang up and his crows curled up together beside him. "Wait- I should introduce myself first. I'm the Raven Healer,"

Azul pondered for a while. "That doesn't explain anything except for the crows,"

"You lots haven't heard of me?" he frowned so deep that his brows and eyes were a cluster. "You guys are really secluded,"

That was when Azul finally realized that he knew about them. About all the lives and creatures that inhabited the deep sea.

"And I mean no harm to your realm. My only target is you," he smiled again, this time at an ominous angle.

"Well, I'm quite famous in this realm. I heal people for a living, whether it be physical or emotional needs. Anything you need, I can grant you,"

That's not very different from Azul's magic. 

"Sometimes, when someone is really desperate for a change, their thoughts can be heard by my crows. And you, Azul Ashengrotto…" his smile dropped a bit and his eyes drooped. "is particularly distressed,"

"Alright. It was nice meeting you," Azul nodded respectfully. The man didn't seem to be harmful. If he fled right now, he could probably throw him off.

The Raven Healer stilled, then burst into piles of blatant laughter. "No, no. I've been looking for you, don't you get it? I'm here to grant your wish!"

I'm here to grant your wish. Like how Azul'd promoted his business as the Sea Merchant.

"I understand that you've been suffering quite a lot, and that you want a change. But nothing ever comes without a cost… I'm sure you can understand,"

The healer stood up, the material of his greatcoat fluttering in the wind. He made his way freely to Azul, who could only freeze up as he inspected the statue with great interest.

"The heir to the throne! I see why you're desperate now. They're a real catch," the healer then looked down at the outstretched tentacles without a word. Azul prayed in his mind that he would turn away from them.

"Well, here are my terms. I will grant you a pair of legs in exchange for your magic,"

Wait, what?

Azul was pretty sure the Raven Healer was just imitating him now. A great figure appearing out of the blue to answer your hopes. The catch was that the figure would always take away your most important thing. It was never a fair deal, Azul was aware.

"I don't think you need my magic," Azul breathed.

"Why, I do!" he exclaimed. "Collecting magic is a splendid hobby of mine! It is because of all these magic that I am such a renowned magician,"

He was obviously lying. His smile couldn't reach his eyes, and the orbs where his eyes were supposed to be were humming like a hazard label.

"I think I'll be just fine," Azul hurriedly brought the statue to his chest and started sliding away.

"...How are you going to survive?"

"What?" Azul swiveled, exhausted.

"Up here. With your…" the healer wiggled his fingers.

"I'll find a way,"

"No you won't," the healer protested. Azul looked up to the sky, took a deep breath and decided to entertain him. 

"Why so?"

"You're gonna cause ruckus. Chaos. People are not especially used to seeing half-man half-octopuses roaming their land," he said honestly. 

Despite knowing all this, Azul still considered his word rude. There was a thin line between blunt and disrespectful, and he'd just crossed it. 

"There won't be anyone dealing with you, will there?"

"...I suppose not-"

"Exactly! I am your only hope!" he exclaimed once again, throwing his hands up in the air like a dramatist. "Unless you want to go back?"

Azul glanced at the serene water. He knew that down there, the mermaids and mermen must be panicking over what'd just happened.

"You can't hold onto that statue forever. If you really wish to stay here-"

"I just came, Mr. Healer. I'm not going to stay,"

"Yet. Come on now," he groaned, as if he was the one exasperated. "I know you want it. You need it. So what are you waiting for? You're never going to see all the beauties in this world in this state!"

He was right. Agonizingly right. He couldn't just walk around as an octopus. It would be like a stain on a quaint painting. Moreover, now that he was here, he couldn't just give up the chance to find you again. It's not like the ocean would welcome him anyways.

As if hearing his thoughts, the Raven Healer reached his hand out, "Deal? Your magic for a pair of legs. It's a fantastic trade if you think about it,"

One second. Two second. Azul didn't wait until the third to act on it. The moment their skin touched, Azul felt a stream of warmth coursing through him, rushing to his throat, where he choked up a luminous blue orb. It was within the healer's fingers within seconds.

"And your legs," he rummaged inside his pocket. There seemed to be numerous tiny objects inside as he dug around. Finally, he pulled up a thumb-size bottle and handed it to Azul.

He downed the slimy liquid inside under the healer's encouraging nods, and almost gagged at the sensation. "Guh! What the hell is-"

His tentacles started glowing a bright yellow, bright enough to attract people in this dead of the night. They started to shrink until they completely disappeared, and a pair of human legs replaced them.

He couldn't believe his eyes as he stretched around and surveyed the changes on his body. It took him quite some time to adjust to it, but he was surprisingly good at it. The fabric of the pants that came with the gift fluttered against his 'flesh' like a mother's caress. He felt normal, for once. Not some ugly monster that preyed on innocent kids. Not a marginalized criminal. Not even a wicked fraud. He was just a human wanting to explore the world.

"Three days," the Raven Healer said.

"What?" Azul was too joyous to pay real mind.

"If you can't find the most beautiful thing after three days, you will dissolve into sea bubbles,"

Azul stilled as he comprehended his words, then he started to chant no in his mind. He'd fallen for his trap.

"You didn't mention it at all!" Azul yelled. "Refund! You're scamming me!"

"The pot's calling the kettle black now. How comical," the healer giggled. Azul's heart dropped to the bottom.

"Consider this your own medicine. It's not like you're completely at loss over here!"

"Wait!" Azul reached out to grasp his fainting figure, which had become an opaque vision. 

"We shall reunite in three days. Until then, enjoy."

All that was left was the crashing of the waves and songs of the crickets. Bathed in the glow of the moon, Azul finally came to the conclusion that he'd fucked up.

Life never stopped to give him a break. There were haste footsteps nearing from behind. Azul instinctively retracted his tentacles, but forgot about their absence and tripped instead.

"Yikes! That was a nasty fall. Are you okay?" 

Looking up, two formally looking men were standing above him, one with crimson hair and another navy. There was a sword attached to each of their sides.

"Yeah. I-I'm fine," Azul cleared his throat and stood up.

"Are you homeless?" The redhead asked and was immediately hit by his companion.

"You can't go around asking people whether they are homeless!" he scolded, then turned to Azul brightly. "You must be in search of shelter! Please follow us!"

"That isn't any better," 

"Shut up," the blue-haired snapped with the same polite smile. "Come on, Mr…?"

"A-Azul. Azul Ashengrotto,"

"Yes, Mr. Ashengrotto. We can't have you catching a cold out here,"

Despite his friendly facade, Azul could see underlying motives lurking beneath. But clueless that he was, he didn't have a choice but to follow suit towards the castle-like building in the far distance.

"Your majesty will be pleased to see you," the redhead murmured, but Azul couldn't quite catch that.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It's nothing," was all that he received. "Just that you'll surely love the place."

Conclusion : Azul had once gone around scamming others with his unique magic but was busted and had been further criticised since. The Raven Healer is obviously Crowley, and his magic will be further explained in next chapter.

[harryswanderlust]

Locker Room

warnings: smut!! & cursing

requested: nope

I hope you guy enjoy 4k words of gym! shawn!!

A sigh escapes her lips as she fills the water cooler for the third time in the past hour, secretly hoping she won't have to fill it more than the eight times she usually does during her shift. She prefers it over having to pick up the dirty, sweaty towels off the gym floor to throw into the wash, but neither thing is glamorous in her opinion. Her job isn't too bad, she really doesn't have to do much, and Y/n really needs the money. It was either here or the coffee shop on the corner, and she doesn't know a thing about making coffee.

She's been working here for about two weeks, and the worst thing she's had to do is help all the clueless people understand the terms of their membership. She'd rather bang her head against a wall, but most days are relaxing for her when she doesn't have to deal with that. She mostly gets to hide in the background completely unnoticed since everyone seems to know what they're doing and goes about their business like usual.

She gets a nice view sometimes, and one of these days she knows she's going to get caught staring at the cute guys that walk in. She can't help herself, once they take their shirts off she gets a front row seat to their toned abs and back muscles and how could she look away from that? No one really pays much attention to her except to ask for a towel or for her to refill their water bottles though. Every day is basically the same routine, but today's shift was going to be a little different for her.

She makes her way back to the front desk, resting her chin on her fist as she reopens her book to continue reading it. The day has been slow so far, not a lot of people coming in, and it's relatively quiet except for the clinking of weights. She's been waiting, watching the tiny hand tick by on the clock, for her lunch break. While her job may not hard, it's certainly not invigorating and sadly her lunch break is the most exciting part of her day.

When she hears the bell on the door ring, she looks up from her book, letting it close on the counter as she gets ready to give whoever's come in the usual "Hi, welcome to Fusion Gym," greeting, but the words manage to get caught in her throat.

She's unable to do anything but blink, taking in the sight of the stranger that just walked in. She thinks she's dreaming at first as her eyes roam his entire his body, noting the heading that's pushing back chocolate brown curls and shorts that are exposing a pair of thighs that she swears are sinful. Sure she's seen some well fit, attractive looking young guys come in. She works in a gym for goodness sake, but him? He puts all of them to shame.

She jumps out of her chair, smoothing out her shirt and fixing her name tag. She rakes her fingers through hair, trying to make herself look nice or at the very least presentable. She never put much effort into how she looked for her job since she only had to interact with a handful of people and her boss didn't care. But today has made her want to try a bit harder.

He makes his way over to her and is about to say something when Jeremy, the gym's best personal trainer, comes up to him.

"Hey, Shawn. It's been a while since I've seen you, where've you been?" He asks, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into a type of bro hug. He gives a couple pats on the back before releasing him, one hand still on his shoulder.

Shawn.

She kind of liked that name.

The kind of name she'd like to scream.

"Been busy writing that album and stuff. You know how it is," he tells him, shrugging as he pulls his gym bag off his shoulder. She watches as his biceps flexes, and she restrains herself from biting her lip. A few tattoos on his arm catch her attention, and if she didn't have a thing for them before then she sure did now.

Also, writing an album? Did that make him a singer? She's never heard of any singers named Shawn, but being away at college has really managed to take her out of the loop.

"Yeah, I no worries man. You want to make it a leg day?" Jeremy asks him, and Shawn nods in agreement. Y/n doesn't catch the words that are passed between them next because she's too busy daydreaming about the tall, amber eyed boy in front of her with the a smile like sunshine. Thoughts swirling through her mind about how someone so perfect could exist. Which she realizes is impossible because no one is truly perfect, but damn did he sure come close.

It makes her wish she'd starting working at the gym sooner.

She's fully aware that there's work she needs to do, and standing here gawking at people isn't going to help get it done. It's probably time for her to wipe down equipment or clean one of the bathrooms, but that all seems so insignificant to her right now.

"Hello? Excuse me, miss?"

Gasping, she's pulled back to reality. She blinks a few times, silently cursing at herself for appearing like a fool in front of him. He's standing right in front of her, patiently waiting for her to say something.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Hi, can I help you with something today?"

Like maybe taking off your shirt?

"Yeah, could I get a towel please?"

She nods frantically, like somehow she can no longer behave like a normal human being. She walks back to the closet where they keep the towels and has to stand on her tiptoes to get the only available ones on the top shelf.

"Sorry about that," she says sheepishly when she's back behind the front desk, "Here you go."

She hands him the neatly folded towel, their hands touching when he grabs it from her. A slight chill runs through her, and she has to close her eyes for a minute to calm herself. She doesn't know why she's getting so worked up over a guy. An inconceivably hot guy, but still a guy.

"I appreciate it," he thanks her, his face lighting up with a smile and Y/n's knees go weak at the sight. "I've never seen you here before. I'm Shawn."

He offers her his hand to shake and she takes it, her thumb tracing over the bird that is inked onto it. She ponders over it, considering what it might mean before realizing she hasn't said anything back.

"I..I'm new," she sputters, shaking his hand way too eagerly. He lets out a small laugh, one she'd find endearing if it wasn't caused by the dumb mistake she just made. "I mean, I'm Y/n. Obviously new isn't my name. That would be...that would be stupid...obviously..."

Her focus shifts to anywhere but his own, unable to handle how embarrassing she's being right now. She's word vomiting all over herself, and she'd say that it's the reason no one's ever asked her out. She can hardly say anything remotely intelligible around good looking people so it's no wonder why she can't keep anyone around.

"Cute name for an even cuter girl," he says, winking at her, and her heart almost stops beating.

Was that–did he just compliment her? She had to have imagined that right?

"Guess I'll be seeing you around more often," he waves and turns over his shoulder to join Jeremy in the workout room.

She mutters a "guess so" under her breath and jumps giddily where she stands when he's no longer facing her. She wipes her clammy palms against her jeans, trying to get of all the sweat and sits back down in her chair. Opening her book, she tries to get back into it and stop herself from watching Shawn. But it doesn't work once the weights are picked up and the shirt comes off, his entire physique on full display for her.

He could literally choke her with those thighs if he wanted.

After a while, she's still trained on him. Sweat glistens against his chest and forehead, his eyebrows drawn together as he concentrates. For Y/n, this is more entertaining than anything she could see at the movies or on tv. She'd pay to see this everyday, even if the boy never developed any interest in her.

She didn't know it yet, but her luck was about to start changing for her.

･ﾟ✧･ﾟ ✧ ･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ✧

The low hum of music from the speakers above flows through the gym, a yawn seeping past her lips as she rests her chin further against her fist. She blinks several times, tiredness taking over her body. She's been fighting off sleep for the past three or four hours, trying to stay awake for the night shift she's been stuck on. It was the only time she was available to work this week, having to have mornings and afternoons free for her college midterms. And if she wasn't already occupied enough with all that, it sure didn't help that Shawn has been on her mind the entire time.

It would have been wise to take the whole week, but her desire to see him again was greater than her need to pass her tests. He's started coming in every day since they met, or on nights like tonight if that's when Y/n's working. She didn't know what to think of it really, or of herself for that matter. It wasn't like he was anyone special, if you take away that fact that he's a talented artist and is a walking dream, yet she's developed a crush on him in such a short amount of time. She even took her hair out of a ponytail for him, letting it fall loosely around her face and over her shoulders. She would've brushed it, but she didn't want it to seem like she was trying too hard.

Not that it mattered because Shawn definitely noticed her. He noticed her from the moment he laid eyes on her, even if she was about to fall out of her chair. It was adorable, and what's more adorable is the amount of times he's caught her staring at him while he's in the middle of working out. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love the way he's able to put on a show for her. It's an immediate confidence booster for him when she gets flustered, turning back to the towels she folding or book she's only half reading. And when she's busy and needed elsewhere, he's watching her too.

Slowly, they've both been noticing that the only attention they want is each other's. There have been plenty of girls in the gym that have taken their shot at flirting with Shawn–there being one in particular that Y/n remembers named Olivia. She works at the gym alongside her, and she had to watch the pathetic scene unfold in front of her while refraining herself from killing the girl. Everything from shoulder touching, hair twirling, and all the way to fake laughing. She thought she was going to be sick, but luckily Shawn wasn't paying any mind to her. He's used to the affection, but now he only wants Y/n's.

She releases a grunt when her head slips from her hand, hitting her forehead on the counter. Her fingers tend to the pain, rubbing tenderly to help ease it before she decides to clean the equipment in order to keep herself from nearly falling asleep again. If there's anything she's learned from this night, it's that four cups of coffee fails to do the trick.

Right now there's two things she'd love: either a nap or to be underneath Shawn while he's doing push ups in the workout room with Jeremy...or for other reasons. The way his muscles are flexing is making her hot, and the a/c in this place is always cranked up on full blast.

"How many is that?" Shawn asks, grunting as he pushes himself up from the mat. A bead of sweat slides down the side of his head, his damp curls sticking to his neck.

"That's thirty," Jeremy answers, smacking on a piece of gum. His gaze wanders the room, stopping when he sees Y/n wiping down a weight bench. "Hey, Y/n. I'm going to go fill up my water. Make sure he doesn't stop while I'm gone, would ya?"

He doesn't wait for a response, already making his way towards the water cooler. She glances at Shawn who relaxes before he stands up. The air is thick around them as he moves to stand in front of her, bringing his hand up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. Skin tingles where he touches her, feeling electric as it runs down her spine.

She'd love for him to touch her all over.

She'd love to get to touch him all over. And his shirt's already off, making him half naked...

"You're not really going to make me do any more are you? I think I deserve a break don't you?" He asks, quirking a brow and cocking his head.

She draws in a weary breath, unsure of what to say as she grabs his hand and pulls it away from where it hovers above her cheek. She holds onto it, looking at where their hands meet and letting a second pass before she snaps herself out of whatever trance she's in.

"I...I guess?" She says questioningly.

He shakes his head. "You know what? What if you helped me instead?"

Her brows knit together, confusion gracing her features. "What do you mean?"

There's no one around except for the two of them and one or two other employees, most people having called it a night ages ago. The room is calm and quiet with it only being the two of you. That's why Shawn doesn't have a problem pulling her down gently to the mat, climbing above her and positioning himself to do more push-ups. Fear ignites behind her eyes as her back presses against it, their chests all but touching. He grasps her chin, getting her to look at him.

"For every push-up I do right I'll kiss you," he explains, and he has no idea where any of this came from but he's glad it did. He has wanted to ask her out over the past week. He's wanted to ask her out from the minute he saw her behind the front desk, but he's chickened out every time he's considered going for it.

"Wait what?"

She's hoping Jeremy doesn't come back anytime soon, not finding this situation to be one she'd enjoy explaining her way out of.

"Think of it as a reward," he persuades her, pushing himself down so his lips ghost right over her ear, "For both of us."

His locks dangle over his lashes, tickling along the side of her neck. She resists the urge twirl a curl of it around her finger. She's wondered what it feels like. Probably

"But how will I know if you do one right?" She whispers.

"I guess that's up to me to decide," he breathes, already bending down to start. His warm breath fans across her face, his nose lightly brushing hers. Her body is suddenly begging for him to kiss her, anticipating him pressing his warm lips to hers. Her head swirls and eyes flutter shut.

He's about to steal one from her. Claim the reward that's well earned for both of them, but she puts a stop to it.

"You know, I like your songs," she blurts out, dissipating the moment. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, angry that she just ruined things as the heat was turning up. Her words come out so rushed she's hoping he didn't understand a thing she said–she's not even sure she understood what she said.

"What?"

"I like your songs," she repeats, more clearly this time. "I looked you up on Spotify the other night and I think your songs are...are cool."

'I looked you up on Spotify?' 'I think your songs are cool?'. Seriously? She listened to all three of his albums and that's what she has to say about it? That's the best she could come up with? It's better than telling him she spent over two hours listening to his music instead of studying for her classes, but still.

"Oh, thanks," he says, and there he goes again with that lovable laugh that has no business making her like him so much. "Do you have a favorite?"

She shrugs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I guess I really enjoyed that one song...Nervous I think it was...?"

A deep shade of crimson blossoms over Shawn's cheeks, and he coughs before shaking it off. His embarrassment begins to falter, and she notices a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Is it because I make you nervous, princess?"

She freezes, her pulse racing.

Princess?

That was new. She's never been called that before, but she liked hearing it come from that mouth of his. Now she wants to know what else it can do. Kiss her lips? Or maybe the ones a little further south?

She's so lost in her mind that she's totally surprised when he finally decides to go for it. Next thing she knows his lips are on hers, moving gently. It's fervent, it's insiste. Each one deeper than the last every time he pulls away and comes back. He relaxes, his body melting into hers as she winds her arms around him. They're flush against each other now with no room to consider the possibility of someone walking in on them now.

One hand tangles in her hair, the other pinches her hip causing her to squirm and her mouth to part. Her heart beats faster and faster, body spinning as she savors the saccharin taste of honey. They're making out for the entire world to see–they're lying in front of a wall of windows–but that's the last thing either of them care about. The world has fallen around them, and the only thing left are the helpless moans they're pulling out of each other.

She tugs teasingly at his bottom lip, hissing when he grinds his hips against her own. A hand slips under her shirt, splaying over her stomach, but before he can move it any further something halts his actions.

A bottle drops to the floor, the sound of it ringing through the room alongside a string of curses. Shawn swiftly rolls off of her, the two of them sitting up as Jeremy approaches. Realizing their messy appearance, he peers unsurely at them.

He clears his throat. "Ahem, I think we should call it a night," he says, fixated on the way they're so close to one another, "It's getting late, yeah?"

Shawn nods, already halfway stood up. "Yeah, I'm gonna hit the showers."

They exchange goodbyes while Y/n drowns in a sea disbelief. Never in a million years would she have pictured herself making out with a pop star on a grime infested floor. Granted she didn't initiate it, but she made no effort to stop the situation either.

Jeremy's long gone and she chooses to follow Shawn's lead by standing up as well, but when she does she trips. He's quick to catch her as she stumbles into his chest, and he gestures towards the lockers rooms. There's a split second of misunderstanding before she picks up that he wants her to join him, which sends her into a minor panic.

Is he really going to try and hook up with her in a locker room?

Is she really finding herself okay with that?

Could he at least buy her dinner first?

Within no time they're in there and he's all over her again. Dropping his bag and towel, gripping her waist and attaching himself to her neck once more. It's no surprise he's strong, and it's no surprise that a wave of excitement rushes through her when he roughly pushes her back into the side of the lockers. He skims the hem of her shirt, working to pull it off of her.

Her pants are next, and then his own shorts. She's desperate for him when she feels his hard on poking the side of her thigh, mere inches away from leaning into the place she wants him most. Whines fill the air as they leave red and purple marks along skin. Shawn dips down, his mouth roaming her chest while his arm snakes around to work on the clasp of her bra.

He groans, taking in the beautiful sight of her. "I like this view," he says, "I could get used to this."

She can't believe how she's gotten here. Naked and sandwiched between Shawn and the cold metal of a row of lockers. She can't believe it when his mouth leaves her collarbone and attacks her nipple, his fingers fumbling around with the other. She can't believe the way she's shuddering when he carefully drops down to his knees. He leaves sloppy kisses on her on his way down, making her want to crumble.

There's a tingling feeling where she's aching for him when he levels with her center. She's wet. Beyond wet, and he's barely done anything to her yet. He's positioned himself between her thighs, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into them, and she wants to come undone at the sight of it alone.

Her body lurches forward when his nose nudges her clit. She becomes a whimpering mess when his fingers dance along her thighs and make their way up to her heat. They slide through her wet folds, circling her entrance before slipping one in. His tongue is on her next, eliciting a scream from her as it swirls her clit.

Groans leave him as he sucks on her bundle of nerves, causing vibrations that make her tremble. Her legs shake, and she's already beginning to drip all over his chin.

"Fuck," she whines, loving the way he's stretching her more and more with each pump.

He pulls away, muttering a "you taste so fucking good," beneath his breath, eyes glossed over with lust, before burying himself in her again. He's relentless, pushing deep inside her all the way to his knuckles and picking up his pace to bring her closer and closer to the edge. Her back arches into him, and she moans at the way he's touching every place inside her. Licking, lapping, sucking–every movement, everything more magical than the last.

He continues to mercilessly eat her out, floating from how her pussy tastes. Soft cries can be heard as she's on the brink of release. She's in awe at how goddamn amazing he is at this. There's no way he hasn't done this before, but she doesn't care because she didn't know someone could make her feel this good. Her head leans back on the lockers, her eyes hooded as she watches herself spill all over his chin.

"Such a pretty princess when you're about to cum for me," he mumbles, moving faster to finish her off. And the way he says 'for him' does things to her. She's not just cumming, she's coming for him. And he's making her.

Her hands slam to the lockers to keep her steady.

"Right there. Please right there," she begs as he brings her to her hilt. Her orgasm starts to wash over her, unraveling right in front of him. He marvels in it, refusing to slow down or let up as she succumbs to pure bliss.

He licks every drop of her, cleaning her up as she writhes. He's never been so satisfied from making a girl cum with only his mouth. He's never been more confident in his abilities, and he'll be the first to admit he wants to do it again. He plants one last kiss to her clit, listening to the way she giggles as he stands back up.

He presses another one to her lips to allow for her to taste her sweet self on him. "How was that?"

"You," she breathes, "were amazing."

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated!! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! :) xx

[illestlists]

The Art of Rebuilding

I have always been the type to only write on impulse & impulse alone. I cannot plan it, I cannot write unless there is an overwhelming presence of thoughts that refuse to leave by any other means. This is a result of not currently being able to paint, create or listen to music, have a conversation, a hot bath, take a walk in nature, or any other ways I personally release these thoughts in order to collect my mind and cope.

If you are lost while reading this, then that is completely okay. The intention is to be lost during this ride, to let go of any preconceived notions or expectations, to stop wondering if there is a point or a plot. There is no point. There never was a point; only racing thoughts that the flow of my ink could never begin to keep up with. The idea is completely up to you, and if you choose to create a point, create it. Choose to wander, not wonder. Apply this to anything sinking down inside of your heart and soul, and be aware of those dark oceans. You are in control of the sea in which your mind swims. Your body is but a body; a navigational system to choose the direction of the mind, spirit, heart, soul. Do not allow these oceans to define or defy you, because truth is: they never have, and never will unless you allowed it to be so.

Take a moment to recollect why you feel the way you do, and simply be aware of this. Open your eyes. No, open them wider than that. Don’t choose to look when you have the power to actually SEE. Go beyond yourself. You must step aside from what you think and know of yourself as a body, as a being. This is essential in the process of self-awareness. Be aware. Give yourself recognition. You now realize the cause, the reasons, maybe even the answers. Where do we go from here? Nowhere. Stay here, recognize each and every single atom, molecule, thought fragment, emotion; recognize all that could possibly be the reason why you are feeling & thinking, outside of your physical self.

Once all is recognized, take notes. Take a mental picture. Document any way you can. Take note, but do not dwell. Do not remain fixated on situations, feelings, thought patterns, noises, obstacles. Take note and apply this to the next step: Detachment. It is in our nature to detach in order to gain the strength to re-attach. It is okay to stay here and breathe. Imagine your accomplishments, your greatest memories, dreams, talents, the positive feelings that come alongside these thoughts. Go outside. Breathe some more. Remember that the only thing that lasts forever is finding beauty; it will always exist, even in the castles that have crumbled, in the air that we are fortunate to breathe, in the sun and the moon. In the galaxies that exist inside of us.

Ground yourself next. Mentally ground yourself by being aware of your senses. Find one thing around you that you can see, hear, touch, smell, taste. You are back to your physical state of being now, and this can be what you need in order to let go of the thoughts, feelings, circumstances, that try to get the best of you. You can be free of feeling displaced, feeling invisible. You are here, you are a person. You are free.

Do not obsess or over-analyze what seems to be taking control of your thoughts right now. Do not allow any burdens to slaughter your precious, fragile soul. Be fragile. Allow yourself to feel the fragility in complete form. Let it out. Pour it out from your fingertips, your eyes, your lips, your essence. Do not run away from this- just be aware that you are and can be fragile. And let it all out. Write, sing, solve a puzzle, doodle, paint, listen to music, create music, take a walk, volunteer. Do anything you choose- that soothes the mind and lightens the heart.

Make a list of what you can do TODAY to help the issue/s currently weighing at your mind. Day by day, do what you can. Nothing will happen if you don’t at least give it your best shot by listing what you CAN do. Even if it is getting out of bed and putting on clean clothes- you did something. You did it. You need to give yourself the credit you deserve for finding that willpower.

Rebuilding is a controversial concept; people always tell me that I cannot “Build Rome in a day,” and they are right- to an extent. If by Rome, I mean getting out of bed and taking a shower in a day, then I will build Rome every damn day. If by Rome, I mean finding a better job, creating a new song- then obviously it will take some time. But the fact of the matter is, whatever your personal Rome may be, you can do it. You are free to do so. You can build it. Over and over again.

However, once we achieve awareness, recognition, detachment, and grounding- we all can build our own concepts and versions of what Rome actually is, what it means to us. We can accept the time it takes to get there, and apply what we know to collect the resources to arrive.

Once you believe in the ability to reconnect by disconnecting & release, you will begin to believe in yourself. You will begin to, well, actually have a beginning. You’ll understand that the bleak, dark, buried corridors of our minds, and the shipwrecks of our souls, can be let out. Find your own way to release it all. Experiment; allow the awareness to bring you back to what fuels your passions, your beliefs, your strengths. Be you. Just “be.” This is more than enough. You are more than enough.

Are you still lost? Close your eyes this time, for a brief moment. Roses, wildflowers, the scent of your lover left on your pillow. Envision these things so that you swear you can actually smell them.

I believe in you. You can’t say no one believes in you, or that no one loves you- because I do.

Tap into the darkness and manipulate it, turn it into something light, something otherworldly and beautiful. Block by block, fixate on what can be, not on what was or what is. What IS, changes second by second. That’s fine. The art of rebuilding yourself is fueled by the magic ingrained in your blood, in the never-ending transcendence of the cosmos around you. Be comforted in knowing the same cosmos surrounds me. And us. Let this cradle you. Let this remind you that we are all made of stars. We are the cosmos, we exist in this together. To rebuild is the notion that our perceptions as people are but keys to existence and co-existence with the perceptions of those around us; whether it is in relation to physical or metaphysical being.

Are you lost now? Are you awake?

Flourish. Grow. Adapt. Adjust. Change. Perceive from a different angle. Sail to higher dimensions and grow some more upon your arrival. Do not be afraid to let yourself go completely. Free the caged soul. Awaken the sleepy heart. Open the closed portals inside of yourself. Find hidden gems in the dusty attics of your imagination. Plant new gardens and allow them to thrive. Allow beautiful gardens to grow where dead plants used to reside inside of you. Acknowledge the pain. Feel it. You are allowed to feel pain and sometimes we need to feel pain to be aware that we are able to FEEL. Accept the pain. Let it out of you. Scream, dance, make a cup of your favorite tea, hold an animal, hold yourself. Get lost in the stars and be enchanted by the moon. Be inspired by the sun and let it kiss your face, do not allow the sun or anything to burn you. Daydream. Make plans. Keep those plans.

Rid yourself of people who continue to make you feel any less than you are. NOW. Be done with those who take your friendship and love for granted; those who plant toxicity, taint your gardens with pesticides of their intent. Instead, make room for those willing to remind you to water the flowers and plants that you chose to build yourself; the ones you wish to thrive. Leave behind dishonesty, negative people, abuse, manipulation, harmful intentions and deceptive relationships. They are poisoning you, when you deserve to grow, to evolve, to be free. Let it all go. Release. Breathe.

Reconnect to your passions, ambitions, purposes, goals. Reconnect to be a more powerful, unbeatable, poison-free version of YOU. Reconnect to the ones who have remained empowering, honest, kind, and true.

Release also those demons that taunted you, held you, tried to cradle you- you are not your demons and you do not need them. Easier said than done, absolutely. Albeit once we recognize our own demons and why they appear- we know what to do to let them go. Understand our demons are but poison, too. Rid yourself of them. Upon the chance of their return, do not panic. Just remember: you’ve been able to leave before, and you can and will do it again.

We all have demons, yes. We all have pasts; neither of which can define who we are in this present moment in time- we are all made of stars, remember? Be in the moment. Breathe. Banish the demons, learn your lessons they’ve taught you from your past and mistakes, make the future better than you would have ever thought possible. Because it is possible, and because you are not your past. Recollect. Endure. You’ll be fine.

Once again, awaken the sleepy heart, and free the caged soul. Rebuild - with love.

[oselatra]

Vote, people

People under 30 are not voting in large numbers. I've heard some different reasons for this: They don't feel it will make a difference.

Vote, people

People under 30 are not voting in large numbers. I've heard some different reasons for this: They don't feel it will make a difference. Both sides are the same. It won't affect them all that much, being as low on the totem pole as they are. They feel insulated from politics and political ramifications.

When it comes to issues like polluted air, global warming and rising sea level, you can run but you can't hide. These issues will affect you no matter what. However, there is a bigger reason why you should vote. Trump is funneling billions of dollars into the military while purging their ranks of tens of thousands of troops he deems undesirable. He has a War Cabinet in place and is trying to pick a fight with both North Korea and Iran. If he succeeds, the military will have no recourse but to reinstate the draft — both men and women this time.

Bottom line, you can lather yourself with essential oils, eat Paleo until it comes out of your ears and stick a healing crystal in every pocket. If Trump calls your number, your butt will be in the sling. Get motivated. Register and vote like your life depended on it.

David Rose

Hot Springs

From the web

In response to the Times' Aug. 16 cover story by David Ramsey on Rusty Cranford, the lobbyist seen as the linchpin in the corruption recently uncovered at the state legislature that ended the state contract with Preferred Family Healthcare:

Great job, Mr. Ramsey! It still irritates me [that while] all that money was flowing at the top and at the bottom, those actually doing the work [at PFH] were not getting paid a fair wage for our position based on our education and credentials. We did not get paid for half the hours they required us to work, and we had to beg for supplies to be able to do our jobs — things like ink pens and notebook paper, locking files to keep private patient information protected, etc.

I cannot believe that Missouri, Illinois, Oklahoma and Kansas have not started to investigate PFH billing practices in their states! justcantbelieve

I saw Cranford in action at the legislature during the 2009 and 2011 sessions in his nascent stage, getting legislation passed that allowed him to get paid about $25,000 about a year later. Too complicated to explain here, but he was oleaginous then in how he talked to legislators. It was enough to forever disgust me on the legislative process. And, as Mr. Ramsey so well shows, Cranford was just getting started. The year 2011 was laying the groundwork for years of corruption.

Tucker Max

In response to an Arkansas Blog post suggesting people ask Congressman French Hill if President Trump and "junketing partner" Congressman Dana Rohrbacher (R-Calif.) will come to Arkansas to campaign for him:

French Hill and his friends like to invoke Nancy Pelosi in their battle with [Democratic congressional opponent] Clarke Tucker, but the question that I have is, "Will French Hill support Kevin McCarthy for Speaker if Hill wins and the GOP keeps control of the House?" McCarthy was caught on tape saying, "There's two people that I think Putin pays: Rohrbacher and Trump" and then agreed to cover up the issue for partisan reasons (Washington Post 5/17/17). I am not the biggest fan of Pelosi but what has she done that even comes close to such unpatriotic and corrupt behavior?

Pierce

In response to an Arkansas Blog post noting that the Family Council is campaigning against Issue 1, the ballot proposal to limit damage awards in lawsuits that is being challenged in Circuit Judge Mackie Pierce's courtroom:

I've been a little distracted lately so I might have missed it, but it seems like there's been a long enjoyable period of time without a mention of Jerry Cox and the Family Council. I thought maybe Cox had choked on a lemon and the Family Council had gone out of business. Sorry to hear this isn't the case.

My daddy has been dead for the last 35 years and I've decided I don't need any other daddies at this point in life. Our city daddies are about to drive us out of Arkansas. I don't need a spiritual daddy, sure don't need a Family Council, except the one in my own house, which has always been a 50-50 deal. In many cases a group of like-minded people can be dangerous. The Family Council needs to go back to the 1950s and pray over Elvis's swinging hips, silently. We're done with you.

We'll never be rid of the Trump Mafia unless our six turds in D.C. quit supporting him. Things will never get better in Arkansas unless our population wises up. Voting to take your own rights away is beyond stupid and Issue 1 is a toxic soup of poison for the 99 percent. If you hate yourself enough to vote for Issue 1, please find another outlet for your self-loathing ... young girls cutting in a quiet room is popular on our pay channels. Self-flagellation is a big deal in the Philippines around Easter.

If you want to hurt yourself, get after it, but please don't hurt the rest of us by voting for Issue 1! Save us, Judge Mackie Pierce!

Deathbyinches

We need to just face the fact Issue 1 is beyond any doubt the biggest POS that has EVER been foisted upon us Arkansans by the Arkansas legislature! We need to show those 135 self-centered idiots exactly what we think about their POS by voting against it. And I know I am painting with too broad of a brush here, because there are a few of those 135 legislators who actually voted against placing Issue 1 on the ballot and are actively working against it, thank goodness!

RYD

On the obituary by Ernie Dumas posted on the Arkansas Blog for former Arkansas Gazette editorial page editor Jerry Dhonau, citing Dhonau's reporting on the 1957 crisis at Central High School:

I was a brand-new copy editor on the Gazette news desk when Dhonau and [reporter Ray] Moseley were covering the story. Dumas' obit brings back those days in the newsroom, which was flooded by out-of-state reporters, many of whom were famous. They often cribbed the Arkansas Gazette articles when they filed their reports. Dhonau and Moseley were both consummate newsmen, interested only in getting the story right. It was kinda scary when they would come in after being at the school all day and relate what had transpired — a black reporter being beaten by the mob; the jeering white students; the dignity of the black students, and later, after the 101st Airborne had been sent in, a story about a redneck member of the white mob who made the mistake of trying to take a rifle away from a member of the 101st. You can imagine what happened. There are very few of us left who were on the Gazette staff at that time. It is a time in my life about which I have always been proud. Even though I had little to do with the coverage, I witnessed history being made.

plainjim

Scrubbing history

In a democracy, it is the archivist who stands on the first line of defense of a free people. Without archivists there would be no one to protect the documentation that affirms the truths about who we are as a people — warts and all.

Take the documentation of the country's struggle to pass the Equal Rights Amendment. In 1923, the Equal Rights Amendment was introduced. By 1982, 35 states had ratified it, needing only three more before the ratification could be recognized. Last year Nevada ratified it, followed by Illinois on May 31, 2018. Now, after 95 years of well-documented struggles, we are one state away from ratification. What then?

It's comforting to know that the archivist of the United States, as head of the National Archives and Records Administration, takes care of the administrative responsibilities of the amendment ratification process.

Before 1934, the role of national archivist was carried out by the secretaries of state (1789-1934). With the help of the American Historical Association in 1884, our political leaders were given a push toward creating a National Archives. It took until 1926 before funds were allocated for a National Archives Building. In 1933 President Hoover laid the corner stone and in 1934 FDR signed the national Archives Act. So, it took us 145 years to complete that little bit of governmental activity. But no matter how long it would have taken, those in the history field of the United States would never have stopped pushing.

We have had 10 national archivists since 1935 — all men, although we've had two women as acting archivist (1993 and 2008) for brief periods. Only one archivist, Mr. Don Wilson, seventh archivist, has ever certified an amendment; it was in 1992. And don't you know it had something to do with salary increases for members of Congress?

David Ferriero is our present archivist. And I believe like his predecessors he will protect the ERA documents. And will continue to have the authority to do so, which is something I took for granted until recently.

I would like to take for granted that every scrap of paper related to the 95-year-old odyssey of the ERA, as well as all of our other historical documents relating to past and present struggles, would be preserved, now and in the future. But, this is 2018, when all of our norms and standards are under attack. I stand with my fellow historians to keep a watchful eye, to stand guard, and sound the alarm if anyone dares to scrub any part of our history.

Janis K. Percefull

Hot Springs

Vote, people

[webrokethe4thwall]

(just got done reading the rules) can you write a one shot where raph gets sick with a stomach bug as a little turtle tot?

Caught a Bug

Raph woke up slowly but not in a good way. His stomach felt tight, too full and too empty at the same time. His mouth was dryer than Donnie’s sense of humor. It was hard for him to lift his head from his pillow, let alone the rest of him from bed. His body ached all over, and he felt hot and cold at the same time. Any movement at all made him feel dizzy and nauseated. All in all, the seven-year-old snapping turtle felt awful. He wanted to go back to sleep.

“Boys! Time for breakfast!” Splinter shout was loud enough to fully awaken Raph.

Not wanting to worry his family by skipping breakfast, Raph got up. When a chill ran up his shell, he pulled his thick red sweatshirt over his head then sluggishly made his way down to the kitchen. It was a miracle he didn’t tumble down the steps with how heavy his body felt! Taking a moment to regain his balance, the snapping turtle paused at the kitchen door to watch his younger run past him in a frenzy as their father set the table.

“Morning,” Raph mumbled, rubbing at his eyes and swaying on his feet.

“Good morning, Red,” Splinter greeted his eldest son. He glanced at the snapping turtle mutant and gave him a worried look. “Although, you do not look so good right now. Did you not sleep well last night?”

“I slept fine,” Raph said with a shrug. He actually wanted to go back to bed. However, he didn’t want to worry his family, even if he felt like absolute garbage with his stomach twisting in every direction.

Splinter hummed, giving Raph another once over and carefully sniffing the air around him. The rat mutant opened his mouth to say something, but Donnie started pounding on Leo for shoving him into the wall. It was enough to give anyone a headache with the way Leo was yelling “It was an accident!” the entire time. With Splinter’s attention drawn away by his brothers’ middle-child nonsense, Raph lifted himself up to the table next to Mikey. His stomach gurgled loudly and a wave of nausea hit that the snapping turtle found difficult to fight down.

Mikey gave Raph a concerned look and said, “Maybe you if to eat you’ll feel better.”

Mikey could be right, but with the way Raph’s stomach flip-flopped at the thought of food… The snapping turtle shrugged and glanced at what Splinter had made for breakfast. Scrambled eggs loaded with cheese and veggies, bacon piled high, bananas sliced up in a bowl, and a plate of toast sat upon the table. The sight and smells were overwhelming.

One a normal day, Raph would usually pile as much food onto his plate as he could get away with, but right now it was all too much. The way the cheese oozed around the eggs made his stomach churn. He could smell the grease that was starting to congeal on the bacon. The bananas were riper than his fear stink. The only thing Raph thought he could tolerate was the toast. It wasn’t fair! Pop’s scrambled eggs were the best!

Splinter successfully broke up Donnie and Leo and got them settled at the table. While they and Mikey eagerly plated their meal, Raph reluctantly grabbed a piece of toast. He stared at the lightly burnt slice of bread for longer than he truly needed to and carefully took a bite. It was a struggle to even swallow the toast with how dry his mouth was.

Splinter, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey stared at him in shock. Splinter rounded the table and felt his eldest son’s forehead and immediately pulled his hand back. Raph had a fever. Turtles were cold-blooded and not supposed to get fevers, but since his sons were mutated with human DNA, they didn’t follow that law of nature. His eldest son was sick.

“Raphael,” Splinter said softly, rubbing the snapping turtle’s cheek, “what is wrong?”

Raph wilted into Splinter’s hand. He didn’t want his dad to worry! But he couldn’t lie, not when Pops used his name like that.

“My belly just hurts a little is all…” he answered.

An acidic taste began to rise from his throat, and Raph knew what that meant. He snatched a cup of water from the table and took a gulp to keep the sensation at bay.

“You sure, Raph?” Donnie asked, pushing his glasses up to examine his older brother.

“Yeah,” Leo agreed. He leaned on top of Donnie to get closer. “You look greener than normal.”

Raph shook his head quickly and stuttered, “I’m o-o—urk!”

The snapping turtle slammed his hands over his nose and mouth. The smells were too much. He shouldn’t have shaken his head that fast. The acidic taste was getting worse. Raph couldn’t fight it any longer. He ran to the bathroom, vaguely aware of Splinter calling out to him.

Raph barely lifted the toilet seat up before his stomach finally gave the great lurch. Sharp, vile, and burning from the bottom of his throat to the tip of his nose, he retched as his stomach contents emptied into the bowl. Tears pricked at the poor child’s eyes from the pain and humiliation. The smell was more foul than any stink he’d given off in his life, and the I-just-puked-stink he was giving off now was awful. A hand rested on his shell as the vomiting eased to dry heaves. Raph looked up to see Splinter frowning in concern.

“Let’s brush your teeth and get you back to bed,” Splinter said, lifting his son to his feet.

Raph wiped at his mouth, grimacing at the sick that soaked into his sleeve. His mouth felt fresher after brushing his teeth, but his stomach still rebelled against his body and he was tired. Splinter carried the snapping turtle to his room, replaced his soiled sweatshirt with comfy pajamas, and tucked him into bed.

“I-I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” Raph said shakily. “Pops, why’m I sick?”

“It’s okay, Red,” Splinter placed a hand on the snapping turtle’s shoulder. “Sometimes we just get sick and need help getting better. And right now it looks like you have a stomach bug that needs to be taken care of.”

“I hate bugs!” Raph shuddered. Bugs were as bad as puppets!

“I know you do,” Splinter laughed. “I’ll find something that will help get rid of it. Just sit tight and rest.” He patted Raph’s head then left his son’s room. He saw the other three turtles loitering just outside the doorway. “Purple, Blue, Orange, I need you three to keep an eye on Red for a little while. He isn’t feeling well, and I’m going to get him something to help with his stomach. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Donnie, Leo, and Mikey watched Splinter throw on his “Randall” disguise and slip out of the Lair. The three gave each other a nod before splitting up. Donnie headed to the living room, Leo went to the laundry room, and Mikey dove into the bedrooms. It wasn’t often that they got sick with anything beyond a cold, but the turtles knew how to help make their big brother feel better.

Raph rolled over in his bed with a groan. His belly felt awful! Every little movement made him want to—“Blergh!”—made him hurl. Why did he feel like this? He was just fine yesterday! Now he was puking, aching, dizzy, and tired. He couldn’t tell if the sharp odor in the air was vomit or his sick-stink. The snapping turtle closed his eyes, curling up in a ball and wanting Splinter to come back already.

When something soft thumped against his head, Raph cracked an eye open. Mikey was tossing stuffed animals and pillows onto his bed. Donnie tied the bag in his trashcan, replaced it, and carried the sick away with a pair of kitchen tongs. Leo stumbled in with his arms laden with blankets and sheets. Raph slowly pulled himself to sit upright and stared at his brothers with concern.

“Guys, Pops said I’ve got a stomach bug,” the eldest turtle warned. “You’re gonna get sick too if you’re here!” The last thing he wanted was his little brothers to catch what he had.

“Dad told us to keep an eye on you,” Donnie shrugged, booting up his secondhand laptop as he sat at Raph’s side. “So we’re making a blanket fort to watch movies in.”

“We’re not gonna watch you be sick and be bored at the same time,” Leo said from where he stood on the edge of Raph’s bed, hanging blankets and sheets in a tent overhead. “So pick a good movie before Donnie plays a documentary or something else lame.”

Donnie glared up at his younger twin but did nothing beyond that. It was very telling how concerned he was for their big brother that he didn’t start arguing with Leo that his documentaries weren’t lame.

“But I don’t want you guys puking up your spleens,” Raph countered.

His belly really hurt from all the retching, and his brothers didn’t need to go through that. Speaking of, Raph pitched forward as his stomach once again revolted against him. He dry-heaved into the waste bin Donnie shoved into his hands.

“Do you really want us to go?” Mikey asked sadly. His eyes shined from his best puppy-dog pout.

“No…,” Raph mumbled. He took one look at his baby brother, saw all the effort his siblings were putting into helping him feel better, and replaced the trashcan clutched to his chest with a teddy bear. The snapping turtle felt awful and scared and didn’t want to be alone. He wanted his brothers to stay.

Mikey immediately brightened. He climbed up onto the bed to rearrange the pillows and stuffed animals around the fort. What good was a blanket fort if it wasn’t comfy? Leo dropped a blanket over each of his brothers’ shoulders, and all four drew closer together as Donnie started a Jupiter Jim movie. Raph lay on a pillow incline, pulling his blanket up to cover everything but his eyes. Donnie and Leo lay on either side of him, and Mikey draped himself over the snapping turtle’s spikey shell. Raph finally felt warm.

It wasn’t until an hour later, when Jupiter Jim and Red Fox were separated by alien robot vampires, that Raph felt his stomach flop once again. He shot out of the pillow fort and tumbled out of bed for the trashcan set just by the edge. Mikey fell back with a shout, but Donnie caught him without hesitation. The snapping turtle retched and dry-heaved. He just wanted to be better already! A sob escape from the snapping turtle as he tightened his grip on the trashcan. Leo slipped down from the bed and rubbed Raph’s trembling shoulders.

That was the scene Splinter walked into when he returned to the Lair—Raph sobbing with Leo at his side, Mikey and Donnie fighting tears of their own as they clung to each other, and all of them turning to him as though he had the answer to end this suffering. It was true that the rat mutant’s arms were laden with plastic bags filled with bottles of ginger ale, a special rehydration drink, and liquid Pepto-Bismol. However, he wasn’t sure if any of them would work for a mutated snapping turtle, but he had to try for the sake of his ailing child. Splinter placed the bags on the ground then knelt by Raph’s side.

“Purple, Blue, Orange, go wash your hands,” Splinter ordered gently. “I’ll take over from here.” After watching Donnie and Mikey slip off of the bed and trudge slowly after Leo out of the room, Splinter focused completely on Raph and hefted the snapping turtle into his arms. “Alright, Little Red, back into bed. I’ve got some medicine and drinks that will help your belly feel better.”

“What is it?” Raph whimpered, balking at the thought of drinking anything regardless of how thirsty he felt. He’d just puke it back up again!

“The pharmacist said to take one capful of this medicine every hour to help manage the puking,” Splinter explained, laying Raph back inside the pillow fort, “and to drink some ginger ale and this special juice to help keep you hydrated.” He poured some ginger ale into a cup on the bedside table, handing it and a small medicine cup full of pink liquid to his son. “Take small sips.”

Raph held the medicine cup to his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and gulped it down. He gaged on the taste—like those heart candies they had found in the dumpsters after Valentine’s Day—and immediately sipped the ginger ale. The fizzy drink was welcomed, soothing his throat and dry mouth.

Now all Raph felt now was tired. His eyes grew heavier by the second, and with Splinter rubbing his head and humming, the snapping turtle didn’t stand a chance for staying awake. He sank into the pillows and stuffed animals that had remained from the emergency exit he made, and a blanket was tucked around his shoulders. It wasn’t long before Raph was fully asleep.

After he was sure his son was asleep, Splinter closed up the fort as best he could and left to check on Donnie, Leo, and Mikey. They had been worried about their brother when he had sent them out earlier, and they deserved an update. He didn’t need to search for them for very long. They were sitting across the atrium in Leo’s doorway, huddled together with their eyes glued on Raph’s room.

“You three did a very good job watching over Red while I was gone,” Splinter praised his children. He smiled at each of them. “He is sleeping now, so I want you all to be very quiet for him.”

“That should be easy enough,” Donnie said. It was easy enough for him to tinker quietly in his budding lab, and surely his younger brothers had some games in the arcade that wouldn’t cause disruption to Raph’s sleep.

“Is Raphie gonna be okay, Dad?” Mikey asked.

Leo followed up by asking, “And is what he has contagious?”

“He should be better in a day or two with plenty of rest,” Splinter said. “However, I don’t know how contagious he is at the moment. Don’t touch your eyes or mouths after being around Red without washing your hands. Did you all wash them like I told you?” He sighed in relief when he received three nods. “Good.”

Hours later, Raph woke up feeling better than he had that morning. His stomach was still cramping, and his body still ached; but the snapping turtle didn’t feel exhausted after just waking up. His mouth felt dry, though. He saw a bottle of the special juice Splinter got for him on his nightstand. Picking up the bottle, Raph read “Pedialyte Cherry Punch” on the label. He didn’t really care for cherries but, remembering his father’s advice, took small sips anyway. He still felt like puking, but he managed to get down a few mouthfuls before putting the bottle back on the nightstand.

A moment later, his father and little brothers peeked into his room. Mikey carried a plate with a slice of perfectly tanned plain toast and an unpeeled banana and placed it beside the bottle on the nightstand. Splinter gave the snapping turtle a once over.

“How are you feeling, Red?” Splinter asked.

“Still kinda puke-y,” Raph said slowly, “but I feel a little better.”

“It may take a day or two until that feeling goes away, son,” Splinter said. “Have some more medicine and try to eat some food.”

As Raph grimaced at the taste of Pepto-Bismol and slowly ate the toast to get rid of its flavor, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey crowded in front of him. They looked up at him with varying degrees of worry.

“Is there anything we can do for you, big brother?” Donnie asked.

Raph picked at the hem of the blanket pooling around his legs and shyly mumbled, “…Stay for a while?”

Splinter chuckled as his sons climbed onto Raph’s bed and reorganized the blanket fort so it would be more accommodating to the four turtle mutants and their rat-dad. Raph truly felt content when his father joined them and placed him on his lap, blanket wrapped over his head and teddy bear clutched to his chest. Donnie picked up the laptop from where it was tucked between the nightstand and bed and started up the Jupiter Jim movie from the beginning.

Raph felt lucky to have a family that cared so much about him. For the next two days, he had been sick. His brothers and Splinter were always checking in on him, making sure he was staying hydrated and eating, rubbing his shell or head when he did puke, and keeping him company when he asked. The snapping turtle got stir-crazy at times from how smothering his little brothers could be (He had to argue with Mikey to get out of bed to use the toilet!), but he knew it was all out of love. Raph usually did the same thing and coddled Donnie, Leo, and Mikey excessively if they so much as stubbed a toe. He was just happy that his brothers never caught what he had.

However, a few weeks after Raph recovered from his stomach bug, something weird happened with their dad. Splinter caught a fever, cranked the AC down to its lowest setting, and shaved off all of his fur. It was the most terrifying sight any of the young boys had ever borne witness to. Then he started attacking, cuddling, singing way off key, writing crossover fanfiction, and just freaking out all of the young turtles. It only stopped when they all yelled at Splinter to act normal again. He almost immediately complied! This sickness was later dubbed the rat-flu, and it would plague the five mutants more than any other sickness they would ever contract.

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When a prank that goes wrong for Leo goes right for her, April learns just how intense Donnie can be when he's been awake for days on end while working in his lab. Donnie then invites her to help him out with a project and gives her a present in the process. April finds out that, while Donnie is very thoughtful with his gifts, they sometimes aren't as appealing as he hopes.

A very happy anniversary/birthday to Rise of the TMNT! Keep the fan-love and support going, everybody!

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Could you please write some about Draxum finally agreeing to go out on one date with Carol's daughter. While he hates every second of it.

Draxum couldn’t fathom how his life had gotten to this point. One day, he was a warring warrior scientist trying to build an army, and now he was a lunch lady serving pea soup to a bunch of hormonal, emotionally-charged teenage fleshbags. He was on his way up to his apartment when he remembered the “mailbox” that April had mentioned he should check on a daily basis. He had barely gotten the envelopes out of the wretched thing when a manicured hand slammed it shut.

“Barry!” A shrill voice crowed in his ear.

Not again, Draxum thought tiredly. He didn’t even turn to look the woman in the eyes as he droned, “What do you want, Carol?”

Carol grinned that toothy, wide, even-Draxum-could-tell-it-was-fake smile. The yokai knew what was coming next. This sixty-something-year-old woman was unrelenting.

“My daughter is visiting me this weekend,” Carol said airily. “It would be a shame if she couldn’t meet my big strong neighbor.”

“For the last time, Carol,” Draxum said, turning to go up the stairs, “I have no interest in meeting your daughter!”

He missed how the grin turned predatory.

“Ah, but I do suppose you have an interest in keeping your dogs?” Carol asked a smidgen too sweetly.

Draxum turned to see her holding an envelope sealed with an official mark of the city. It was probably the bill from the dog catcher who inadvertently reunited him with Huginn and Muninn.

“Now, I don’t know why you named me as the owner for the two mongrels that wrecked half the city, but I do know that if I don’t pay this bill the city will come after the true owner and the animals at fault,” Carol explained. “However, I might be willing to overlook this moment of identity theft and pay the bill.”

The way she ended her sentence as she dragged out the last word, as though she was going to continue speaking, left Draxum with a sinking feeling in his belly. He hated this woman. He hated her with his entire being! However, his and his gargoyles’ safety was at risk.... Was this... was this what having a family is like? Gross.

“What time do you want me to come by?” Draxum sighed heavily.

Carol squealed and jumped with victory. “Meet us at noon in the park on Saturday. Susan and I will be waiting by the fountain. You can even bring your doggies!”

So, Draxum spent the rest of his week getting ‘dating advice’ from April and the turtles, who had never been on a date themselves but claimed that ‘otome were close enough, right?,’ and Splinter/Lou Jitsu, who blew through a starlet a week when he was human. He bought two red collars for Huginn and Muninn, who absolutely loved them for some unfathomable reason, and prepared himself for the dreaded weekend.

Around noon, Draxum—pardon Barry—arrived at the Central Park fountain with Huginn and Muninn crawling on the ground.

“Why do we have to do this?” Huginn asked, scratching at where the collar met his neck with a hind leg.

“Because the human Carol is annoying and manipulative,” Draxum stated dully.

“I think that Carol-woman is a demon,” Muninn muttered, sniffing at the ground.

“No arguments there,” Draxum replied.

“No arguments about what?” a new voice asked.

Draxum spun around to see a human woman standing behind him. She looked familiar in a strange way. Almost...

“Uh, nothing,” Draxum said.

The woman smiled. “You must be Barry. I’m Amy.”

That was why this woman looked so familiar! She looked like a younger version of Carol, except for a brown bob-cut instead of bleached blonde fake curls. That feeling of dread and resentment settled firmly in Draxum’s stomach.

“Greetings, Amy,” Draxum said stiffly. Be cordial, be civil, do it for the gargoyles. “Where is Carol? I assumed she would be here as well.”

Amy shrugged, saying, “That’s Mom for you. She’s always running late.”

Of course she is, Draxum thought darkly. “Should we wait for her?”

Amy’s cell phone beeped. “Pardon me.” She quickly checked the screen then shook her head in disappointment. “Looks like Mom can’t make it. She says she’s feeling a little under the weather, but to have fun.”

As the human squinted down at her screen, Draxum ground his teeth. That devil woman set me up!

Huginn and Muninn glanced at each other. The sun was shining, the sky was clear, but there was a storm cloud brewing over their boss. They knew they had to do something to calm Draxum down. If they didn’t, the yokai was sure to explode and take half the park with him.

“Eh, meow?” Huginn and Muninn chorused, bumping their heads into Draxum’s shins.

Amy blinked. “Did your dogs just... meow?”

“No!” Draxum shouted, immediately on the defensive. “Because dogs don’t meow; they bark!”

“Er, okay,” Amy replied before kneeling down to meet the gargoyles. “What are their names? They’re kinda funny looking dogs. What breed are they?”

That’s because they’re gargoyles, not dogs, you stupid— Draxum ground out a smile. He had to keep the mystic stuff on the down-low or else he and his “pets” were in deep trouble. “This one is Huginn, and this one is Muninn.” He pointed to the gargoyle that each name belonged to. “They are mutts from the same litter.”

“Such dynamic names for such good boys!” Amy gushed, giving each ‘dog’ a scritch, or seven in Muninn’s case, behind the ears before standing back up.

“Yes,” Draxum drew out. “Shall we... go for a walk?”

“Yes!” Amy cheered. “Walkies for the puppies! May I hold one of their leashes?”

Your mother tricks me to go on a date with you, and now you want one of my gargoyles?!

Before Draxum could deny her request, Muninn surged forwards and wrapped his leash around Amy’s legs. He had the brains to actually bark when pressed his forearms to her legs and ‘wagged his tail.’ Sighing, Draxum handed the human Muninn’s leash after untangling her from the excited gargoyle’s idiocy.

“Let’s be off!” Amy declared, looping a thin arm around one of Draxum’s thick biceps and boldly moving forward.

That’s how Draxum’s afternoon went—hours at the park just walking, listening to the excitable human woman yammering on about how sweet his ‘dogs’ were and various other animals on top of that, getting some ice cream at one point, and even squashing a rogue oozesquito or two. Draxum did not need a freak mutation in the middle of an already awful day. He still had to pick up Sloppy Joseph from the turtles once he was done with Amy. They eventually rounded back to the fountain they started at.

They came to a stop, and Huginn and Muninn dove headfirst into the filthy fountain water for a drink. Their gargoyle stomachs were strong. They could handle the minerals pervading the water from the multitude of dirty coins resting at the bottom of the pool.

“I should apologize to you, Barry,” Amy said. “My mom forced you to do this didn’t she?”

“She’s blackmailing me and my... dogs,” Draxum stated bluntly. He was having a bad day, and he wasn’t above letting the woman it revolved around know it. “They had run off a couple months ago, and I found them again last week on the streets. They had evidently caused a mess, and I had the fine sent to Carol because she won’t ever stop pestering me about you. Why is she so insistent?!”

Amy grimaced, vaguely gestured, and muttered, “I, uh, don’t want to have kids, get married, or settle down in any way with anybody. I just want to have an apartment full of pets that I can devote my time to. She wants to have human grandbabies and not fur babies.”

Draxum raised an eyebrow. It seems he wasn’t the only one having a bad day. “That’s your choice, not hers.”

“Right?!” Amy agreed exasperated. “But she keeps throwing random people at me, hoping that I’ll ‘meet the right one’ and give her what she wants!” Amy sighed and stood up, appearing ready to leave the park. “Listen, I’ll make sure Mom pays that bill and leaves you alone, okay?”

“You have my thanks,” Draxum said carefully. “Carol needs to stay out of everyone’s business, including her child’s.”

Amy smiled. “You have my thanks for that, Barry; and thank you for letting me walk Muninn! You’re dogs are really sweet.”

“Only when we want to be,” Huginn said cheerily from the fountain.

Amy blinked, pointed double finger guns at the black talking definitely-not-dogs-anymore creatures on the fountain, and looked at Draxum.

At a loss, Draxum was too tired and frustrated to do more than shrug. The human clearly wasn’t stupid, so there was no point in lying to her. “They’re gargoyles.” Amy aimed one finger gun to point at the sun. “Different breed.”

“Huh,” Amy hummed. “So, I am made of questions about how to care for gargoyles now because I never thought of mythical creatures as an option for fur babies.”

Draxum looked at Amy in shock. She was at the advantage here. She held all of his secrets and the safety of his little family at her fingertips. Yet all this odd human cared about was the possibility of having a gargoyle of her own?

“Um, okay.”

Amy sat back down next to Draxum. They spoke for hours more about gargoyles, other mystical animals that made good or poor pets, and a little bit about Sloppy Joseph.

Draxum came to a conclusion as he came home that day: dates were horrible, making human friends and spending time with them wasn’t that bad, and he would find an oozesquito if Amy so much as hinted that Carol was pushing her to find a mate again.

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I got my next chapter up, everybody! I hope you like it!

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Hey folks!

I got a new Turtle Tots one-shot posted for you to enjoy!

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Requests are Closed

Hey folks, I’m closing fanfic requests for the time being. Work at the hospital is crazy, I’m working on my BSN, and I have several stories I want to finish up in the small amount of free time I have left over.

I will keep you all updated on when requests are open again, but please read my rules first before you make your requests. I just received an request from an anon that I could not fulfill because it broke one of my rules.

My rules are a little wordy at the moment, but I’ll work on condensing them when I get the chance. You’ll have to use your computer to see them, though. The link in my profile doesn’t work on mobile.

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Hey everybody, the last update is up! It’s been fun writing for Donnie and his family, and I hope you enjoy the last installment.

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Here’s the next chapter of my RotTMNT fic. Hope you guys like it!

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Donnie has both of his younger brothers back! Now he just needs to talk to Raph and all will be well again.

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This chapter was really fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!