#sorry for the complete lack of posts for the past several months

[milgrambles]

Double thumbnail is out! I'm afraid.

Something that immediately caught my attention here is how, despite the bloodiness of the scene, Mikoto's clothes and bat are perfectly clean. Is he really the one who broke these mannequins, or is something else going on here...?

[chocosvt]

HER | teaser.

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader teaser word count: 1.4k actual word count: 140k (yes, u read that correctly) genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings for the full fic: drug use (weed, coke, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: as i descend to one knee and cup my hands together at your mercy, i offer a tidbit to the wonwoo fic i have finally completed after two years (lol). i know i ALWAYS say this, but i truly wasn't expecting the fic to be THIS FUCKING LONG! thankfully, i planned it well and although i lost momentum countless times (nervously side eyes the approximate & several 5 month breaks i took in between), my dedication to seeing the characters through & "completing" their growth was smth that i could not leave behind!

not having posted a fic for two years is prob a little much :0 so hopefully the length of this makes up for it (?) usually my writing is just teehee silly little romance agonizing slowburn surface level dilemmas of the self BUT THIS ONE HAS A LITTLE KICK!

so read it if you want! don't read it if you don't want!

hearts & flowers, xoxoxo (me :*)

UPDATE: read the first part here!

—MARCH 19TH.

“I have a relatively big favour to ask of you.”

 No. Wonwoo didn’t want anything to do with favours.

The fact that Seokmin had actively picked out his presence in the coffee shop like he was some shiny contortion of plastic had actually offended Wonwoo. He came here for two things: to not be bothered, which his friend knew, and to work on the book he was halfway through typing and had been halfway through typing for the past six months. Call it writer’s block, or an inspiration drought, or an absolutely depressing lack of drive—it had been hanging over the writer with an annoying persistence and it seemed that no number of lemony scones or cold coffees were going to make it vanish.

“Uh, Wonwoo?”

“Sorry… what?” He forced his gaze to shift from the blank page on his laptop to Seokmin’s apologetic, softly expressional face, slightly flushed from his time outdoors in the chilled March weather.

“I was just wondering if you’d be up for a favour—a pretty big one—and I know this is your special creativity spot, but she’s been like, breathing down my neck about it and I can’t put it off again.”

“Whose been breathing down your neck?”

At first, Seokmin didn’t say a word, or even make a sound. His lips twitched for a moment, but then he pressed them together and his chest visibly sucked in with a breath. God, Wonwoo hated the suspense and he hated Seokmin for interrupting him when he had been so stupidly close to putting a sentence down that he probably would have back-spaced in frustration a minute later.  

“Y’know…” he trailed off, “Her.”

Her.

No, not her, you.

But most people—if not everyone—referred to you by an alias that had seemed to stick so well the majority believed it actually was your name. When people said her they meant Her, and so in a confusing mess of finger-pointing they really meant you. Come to think of it, Wonwoo had no idea where the nickname even came from or who gave it to you or what it even meant.

And he was perfectly fine with never knowing.

“What?” Wonwoo deadpanned. “What on earth could she want to do with me? She doesn’t even know me.” He slid down in his chair, fingers pulling at his circle-lensed glasses so they tilted uncomfortably across his nose bridge. “Or, is this a joke?”

“Oh—no! Absolutely not!” His friend was insistent on proclaiming, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m being serious.”

“Why don’t I believe you then?”

“Okay, well, if you let me explain everything, it’ll all make sense. I said I know someone who writes really well—”

“Meaning me?”

“Yes, meaning you. And the only reason that was even brought up is because she wants to write a book.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help it. He laughed—a very short, disbelieving laugh that flashed a transient smile to his face as he readjusted his crooked glasses. You were the last person he would ever envision wanting to write a book. He then navigated the trackpad on his laptop, deciding to close the document simply titled, 01, that harboured the fleet of pages to his own current work in progress.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo disregarded, “sounds like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you the truth!” Seokmin exclaimed, gripping onto the metal back of the café chair like he was squeezing someone’s taunt shoulders. “She won’t tell me about what, okay? Just that she’s been thinking the idea for a while now. It’s not like I didn’t try to get details. But she refused—said the only person who can know is whoever’s going to help her. Look, y’have to understand, she was pestering me about it nonstop. And you’re my only writer friend!”

“Well, you’re about to have none.” He answered, reaching for his coffee cup but stopping it just short of his lips. “How serious is she about this, anyway?” Wonwoo sighed. “Do you know how much fucking time you need to dedicate to writing a book?”

He stomached a slow, somewhat grimacing sip as he tasted the coffee’s coldness, meanwhile Seokmin swallowed heavily, and at last pulled out the chair he’d been white-knuckling to take a seat.

“Yes, I’m aware it takes time. I know that. And she is serious or else I wouldn’t be here, bothering you. She takes everything seriously.” The boy began unbuttoning his sleek black jacket. “Really, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe you’ll meet her once and she’ll decide she can’t stand you, and then you’re off the hook for life.”

“Yeah, well have you ever considered what might happen if I can’t stand her? Are my feelings even being considered? Minutely?”

“Minutely, they are being considered.”

“Liar.”

It wasn’t that Wonwoo disliked you.

In actuality, you scared him more than anything. But to be associated with you was to be drawn into your life and caught like a firefly in a glass jelly jar. The proof was right in front of him—to Wonwoo’s eyes, Seokmin was basically your little mailman that scrambled around in hectic nature to do your bidding, because most tasks apparently weren’t worth the time or effort.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to rope me into this. You know I can hardly write my own shit, right?” Wonwoo said bitterly, wishing it was the opposite, “my mind is a desolate, blank canvas of fuck-all and if she thinks I’m writing it then she needs a reality check.”

“No, no—of course you won’t write it!” Seokmin reassured him with his big, opalescent smile. “Really, you’re just giving tips, maybe guiding her process, helping with the planning… you know, this could be facilitated so much easier if you spoke to Her yourself!”

“So, my nightmare?” Wonwoo huffed, shaking his leg.

In an instant, Seokmin had whipped out his phone, tapping around the screen quickly using his thin pointer finger.

“I’m just going to pull up her schedule. It’s always pretty packed, but more into the summer break, it thins out a little. “

Wonwoo exhaled, staring off into the warm, afternoon sunlight that hailed in through the windows, striking all the shimmering flecks and pieces of dust afloat in the café air. When he breathed in again, he could smell the luxurious coffees brewing in their rich and distinctive notes. It was such a beautiful day—still chilly as the snow outdoors began to thaw—but pleasant nonetheless.

“This is such a fucking waste.”

And Wonwoo spent it being miserable.

“No, it’ll be useful. Trust.” Seokmin chirped.

“You’re trying to dip me in your optimism gloss again.”

His friend smiled affectionately, tilting his head.

“This will be good. You’ve been a hermit since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo scoffed, “so you think it’s a good idea to shove me with the person I relate to least on the entire planet?”

“Really? The least? So, what you’re saying is, you relate more to serial killers? Or animal abusers? Or like, literal fasc—”

“Stop.”

“You want to do this. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll set you up.”

A part of Wonwoo knew there might be no wriggling out of the situation, especially with Seokmin sitting across from him, characteristically eager and brightly pushy as always, like a goddamn salesman. For now, it could be easier to let himself get cuffed.

“Can I at least have some time to think it over?”

“Uh… well… the thing is… the thing with that is—”

“You’ve cornered me?”

“I wouldn’t word it like that.”

“… Okay.” Wonwoo removed his glasses, shoved his knuckles tender but deep into his eye sockets, massaging through flashes of white as he came to accept a fate he didn’t know even existed in his astrology. “Just, I don’t know—fuck—schedule me in wherever.”

“Ha! It doesn’t exactly work like that.”

“I really don’t give a damn how it works, Seokmin.”

“Right,” his friend laughed nervously, “I promise that I’ll get back to you pronto. Sorry for the disturbance. And, uh, good luck.”

 “With what part?” Wonwoo grumbled, fixing his spectacles back on to clarify Seokmin’s sympathetic face, the light bouncing off his head of brassy hair like a disco ball. “My incapability to write a goddamn thing or the fact I have to help your perfectionist friend who’s probably going to chew me up and spit me out?”

 “Both parts.” Seokmin grinned. “It can only go up from here.”

✧✎ a/n: tada!

this is the introductory scene! i think i've read it so many times that i could probably recite it from memory at this point ;_; anyway! as i mentioned, i know that it's been a hot minute since i last uploaded any scenarios. but one way or another this monster is getting posted! i did NOT have this lurking on my poor tired macbook causing it to overheat and sputter and spew FOR NOTHING!!

i swear that i don't plan for my works to get this goddamn long. before i hardly planned at all. maybe now i plan too much? i guess i have yet to find a happy medium!! but again, i do hope the size of the fic makes up for all that missed time :_( life has been ruff. but this fic was there as a handy distraction mechanism (when i prob should have been facing reality fhwejfhwk) so i guess it's been a double-edged sword!

also just want to preface that the reader goes by an alias throughout the fic. i'm not sure if this is like... a very huge or popular concept nowadays? so if it hits your reading ear a bit weird at first i apologize! but i swear it has purpose!! *chekhovs rule* *winkwink*

ANYWAY! no more rambling!

i'm pondering the idea of adding a taglist for those who are interested, just as i did with honey boy :3 so if that tickles ur fancy then feel free to each out!

BUT PLZ HEED THE FOLLOWING:

the fic in its entirety will be split across 6 parts

the word count of each part ranges from 22-24k!

i do not YET have a set posting schedule, simply bc i am unsure of how long it will take ppl to get through each part

(so that would be smth i'd have to gauge afterward)

REVISIT THE WARNINGS!!

i will not be flagging mature/nsfw/triggering scenes throughout the fic as the fic itself already has a heavy nature to it

so pls read the warnings!

if there's any additional questions i encourage u to swing by :3

*deep breath*

THANK YOU!!!!!

[vbecker10]

Loki's Little Secret (Part 2 of 3)

Part 1 here / Part 3 here

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: protective Loki (he might sound kinda like an ass but trust me), hidden relationship, angst cause I couldn't help myself, self doubt, thoughts of being inadequate, fluff (I promise... still coming)

Summary: You and Loki have been dating for three months and you've kept your relationship a secret from everyone... until now

Based on this Ask:

A/N: So I know it took a lot longer to put out this second part than I initially promised but I broke up with my boyfriend of several years about two days after I posted the first part and it was a bit hard to focus on this one. Before everyone starts to feel sorry for me, I know it was the right thing to do and although it sucked I'm in a better place right now because of it... now let's back to Loki and his happy ending 💚💚💚

Dividers by @harlequin-hangout

(LOKI POV - 5 days after Loki left)

You groan in annoyance as you flip back to the previous page of your book. You've read this chapter twice now and the preceeding chapter three times but you find yourself completely unable to focus. The words jumble together as your mind continually drifts from the open pages to your most recent memories of Y/N and unfortunately, they are far from pleasant.

You could still hear the pain in her voice, see the tears in her eyes, feel her pulling away from you when she told you she never wanted to be your secret. As soon as she fled the common room you knew you had made a horrible mistake and as each day passed you doubted you would ever be able to make amends for how you treated her. You pinch your nose and squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying to force the memories away.

The sound of the door unlocking distracts you and thankfully sends the thoughts scattering away, for the moment at least. Thor stomps the snow off his boots then closes the door of the hotel room as he greets you. He puts his heavy coat over the back of one of the two chairs at the dining table and sits down. You place your book on the nightstand between the two small beds and stand up, the mattress squeaking noisily as you move.

"I brought dinner," he says, trying to sound cheerful as he starts to pull food out of a large paper bag.

"Thank you," you respond although you still have no appetite. It was easy enough to blame your lack of sleeping and eating on the mission, but now that it was behind you, you knew your brother would want answers.

You take the seat opposite him and ask, "What did they say about my request?"

He unwraps his burger, with a light shrug and says, "Once the file transfer was completed, Hill said we could stay here until we were needed again." He looks up at you then back down at his food and says, "Don't worry, brother, I didn't give a reason as to why we are not going back yet."

You nod and sigh in relief but then Thor adds, "You do know, they are not as dense as you pretend they are."

You don't respond so he continues, "Steve says Y/N hasn't been herself since..." he gestures vaguely with one hand, "whatever happened in the common room. He told me she looks unwell, as if she is hardly sleeping and she won't speak to anyone. She never enters the commons areas and vanishes as soon as her work is complete for the day."

You avoid his gaze, feeling the weight of how much you had hurt Y/N.

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments but then your brother finally asks you the question you have been dreading since you impulsively volunteered to join him. "What happened Loki?"

You pick at your burger, trying to pretend you are interested in it but know you can't avoid this conversation any longer. You fold the wrapper again and push your food away from you. Looking down you begin to fidget with your fingers under the table anxiously.

"Y/N and I have been..." you pause and correct yourself, "... we were together for the past three months." You close your eyes briefly, feeling a pain rise in your chest when you adjust your relationship from present to past tense.

"You've hidden this for three months?" Thor asks in shock. "I just assumed that was the first time the two of you were together or at least that this was fairly new."

You clear your throat before answering, feeling ashamed at how you acted, "That was the first time Y/N had stayed at the Tower, but no one was supposed to see us. You were all away at that silly team building event and we accidently fell asleep while watching a movie. The email from Rogers said you wouldn't be back until noon and Y/N would have gone home well before then."

"Everyone was tired of being in the woods so we came back early," Thor explained as briefly as possible then he motioned for you to continue, "You said it was her first time staying at the Tower..."

You sigh and pick at your palm, "For most of our relationship, if I wasn't on a mission, I would spend my nights at Y/N's apartment but I always left her before she woke up. I wanted to make sure no one ever saw me entering or leaving her apartment so they wouldn't know we were together."

"So wait... you would sneak out of her bed and just leave?" he asks, you can hear the judgment in your brother's voice, whether it was intentional or not. "I don't understand. Did you even care for her or was she just a bit of fun to keep you from being bored?"

"Don't you ever assume that I don't care for Y/N!" you stand up, putting your hands on the table in tightly balled fists. Thor looks up at you in silence as you sit slowly. You take a deep breath and to calm yourself, "I love her, Thor, more than I ever thought possible. I know it's only been a few months but, she means everything to me and now I might have lost her completely."

"Because you are an idiot," your brother says as if to finish your thought and you can't do anything but nod in agreement.

"Then why would you do this? Keeping your relationship quiet is one thing but you don't even act like you are friends with her," he says.

"I just... I wanted to keep her safe," you tell him, running your fingers through your hair as you lean back in your chair. "We are constantly facing new threats and I didn't know how else to ensure she would never be connected to me."

"What would make you think-" Thor starts to ask but stops himself. "You spoke to Peter?" he asks but it sounds more like a statement then a question.

You shake your head slowly, "No... but I overhead you, Barton and Parker talking right after the boy first joined the team."

"You heard us..." Thor says with a slight nod of understanding.

You continue, "It was a few weeks before I met Y/N but I couldn't forget how worried Parker was. He was so concerned with his aunt and girlfriend's safety he almost declined Stark's offer to be a part of the Avengers."

Thor looks down and sighs, "We told him maintaining his secret identity was the best way to guarantee his loved ones were safe. Distancing Spider-Man from Peter Parker would be a crucial step in making sure our enemies would never think to hurt MJ or his aunt. But... Clint also told him that if he ever felt they were truly in danger, they could be hidden somewhere secure like his family."

"You and I don't have secret identities," you pause briefly, "So I thought she needed to be the secret part of my life."

"I don't- why didn't you at least tell Y/N that?" Thor asks and you sit forward, resting your elbows on the table and putting your face in your hands.

(LOKI POV - 7 days after Loki left)

"Wake up," you feel someone nudge your shoulder lightly but mumble for them to leave you alone and roll over on the narrow bed. "I said 'wake up' brother," Thor says louder as he quickly pulls the sheets away, your try to grasp for them but miss. He tosses your sheets in a pile on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed and walks away triumphantly.

You sit up and groan angrily, "What was that for?"

"It's half past noon," he responds in an annoyed tone. "You can not spend another day just hiding under the covers."

He picks up his bag and sets it on the dining table and begins to rummage around in it. You don't bother replying to him, instead you wave your hand and a light green glow surrounds the discarded sheets, setting them back on the bed. Pulling them up dramatically around yourself, you roll onto your side and attempt to ignore your brother.

He huffs loudly and you can feel him walking towards you so you tighten your grip on the sheets preemptively. "Enough of this Loki," he says but you hold your end of the sheets for a moment. "We're going back," he says in a stern voice as he pulls the sheets away from you a second time, your grip loosening as soon as the words hit you.

"Wait- what-" you start to ask in surprise as you get up from the bed quickly.

He picks your bag up from the floor by the door and tosses it to you. You catch it against your chest as he says, "We're going back and you are going to talk to Y/N."

________________________________________

(LOKI POV - later that night)

"We'll be landing in about fifteen minutes," the SHIELD pilot announces from the front of the jet.

You sigh and close your eyes as you lean forward to rest your head in your hands. You desperately wanted to talk to Y/N but you were still unsure if she would want to hear what you had to say.

You feel your brother's hand grip shoulder shoulder tightly as he tries to reassure you. "Try not to worry brother," he urges and you look up at him.

"I'm sure once you tell Y/N everything we talked about and apologize for keeping the truth from her and for treating her so horribly in front of the whole team and for ignoring her all those times you were working together she will absolutely forgive you... in time, of course I mean. She might not want to talk yet though, seeing as how she is still avoiding everyone and she did tell you never to speak to her again." He pauses for a moment and adds, "Maybe it would be better for you to wait until tomorrow to talk to her, it will be close to midnight when we arrive."

"Thank you Thor," you mumble in response.

"That's what big brothers are for," he says with a hopeful smile and you simply nod.

You finally settle on what you want to do just as the jet touches down on the landing pad behind the Tower. You decided that you would go to your room for the night and try to force yourself to sleep. Then, in the morning you would go to Y/N's apartment with her favorite flowers, coffee and the pastries she loved from the Cafe around the corner. Hopefully she would be willing to listen to you but if not, at least you could show her you still care.

Your reach your door and grip the knob tightly but you can't turn it, you stand motionless while your thoughts begin to swirl. Before you have time to change your mind again, you push the button for the ground floor as the elevator doors close.

(Y/N POV)

You yawn again and check your phone, it's a little after midnight so you decide it's time to at least attempt to fall asleep. You turn off the TV and just as you are about to turn out the light you hear a series of soft knocks on your front door. Your heart jumps in your chest as you get up quickly and head towards the door, you recognize that rhythm immediately.

"Loki?" you ask hopefully. You're unable to contain the smile that starts to spread when you see him standing in your hallway but it fades quickly when you see how worried and tired he looks.

He nods slightly in response and immediately looks down at his hands, rubbing them together nervously. "Y/N, I-" he starts to say but his voice falters. "I'm sorry, it's late... I shouldn't have come," he tells you, shaking his head without ever making eye contact with you.

He turns to walk away and you take a step outside of your apartment. "I'm glad you're home," you tell him truthfully.

He stops mid-step and sighs heavily, "The Tower never felt like home." He turns slowly to look at you, "Home was here, with you but I've ruined that."

Before you can reply he says, "I know you told me to act as if you don't exist but I can't. I can't pretend you aren't the most important person in my life, the only person I have ever been able to truly be myself around. I swear I never meant to hurt you Y/N, it was the last thing I ever wanted and I would do anything to take back the pain I caused you."

He looks down as he talks and you take a few steps towards him, you cup his cheek lightly when he finishes, hoping he will look at you. He lifts his head and looks into your eyes, "I just wanted to keep you safe, to protect you."

"What do you mean?" you ask but he doesn't answer, he tries to look away from you but you keep your hand on his cheek and guide him back to you.

"Can we speak inside, please?" he asks quietly and you agree, taking a step back so he can walk into your apartment first.

You close the door behind you and when you look back he is sitting anxiously on your couch. You sit, leaving an empty space between the two of you which feels unnatural. He looks hurt when you don't sit closer to him but he doesn't move instead, he begins to rub his hands slowly again.

"Loki," you say in a soft tone, putting your hand over his which stops his nervous motion. He looks up at you and you say, "Please talk to me. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before but I want to understand what happened."

@michelleleewise @ace-of-gay @high-functioning-lokipath @poetic-fiasco @soubi001 @lokisninerealms @lulubelle814 @lovingchoices14 @theaudacitytowrite @klaushargreeves420 @coffeeorsomething-irl @lokisgoodgirl @xorpsbane @avoliax @talesofadragon @lokiandbuckysdoll @animnerd @juulle987 @lokiprompts @javagirl328 @kats72 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @mochie85 @princess-asgard @holdmytesseract @lokixryss @peaches1958 @lokidbadguy @hopefuldreamers-world @wheredafandomat @silverfire475 @goblingirlsarah @muddyorbs @tessathechild @huntress-artemiss @coldnique @sulthaaan @vickie5446 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @marvel-love24 @moonlightreader649 @almosttoopizza @foranythingandeverything @nikkitc0703 @my-love-of-books @marvelboy27 @feltonswifesworld87 @ronanthesimp

Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list 💚💚

[supernovafics]

could i please request steve x reader to bug collector by haley heynderickx :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k words

summary: in which after being thrown into the insanity happening within hawkins and somehow making it out alive, you feel different, to say the least. it’s hard to move on from everything that happened, or even fully process it, and steve is the only one that can make things feel even the slightest bit better

warnings: post season 2 but pre season 3, explicit language, some fluff, lots of angst, steve being so boyfriend coded it’s crazy

author’s note: i hadn’t heard of/listened to this song before you sent this request but now i absolutely love it 😭 (sorry this kinda took forever but i hope you enjoy!<3)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It wasn’t foreign for you to wake up in his bed. In fact, it was probably the most slightly normal constant in your life at the moment, and you liked that. You would be eternally grateful for Steve Harrington’s bed. 

However, one thing you didn’t like was the severe lack of curtains in his room, which made it hard to comfortably sleep past eight o’clock. Every time you were abruptly woken up because of that, you would tell yourself that you were going to buy him curtains, but somehow you always forgot. So you took the bright early morning sunlight shining right in your eyes as your cue to get out of the bed. 

You sleepily padded to the bathroom, brushing your teeth with the toothbrush that was designated as yours and then pulling on a wrinkled t-shirt over the tank top you were wearing because of the slightly cold February weather.  

A soft “Hi” fell from your lips when you walked downstairs and into the kitchen, spotting Steve at the stove. You pushed yourself up on the kitchen island and watched him as he finished cooking. You liked watching him– there was something about the mundanity of the act that made you feel at ease, like things in your life were at least a little normal. 

It also showed the self-sufficiency of a boy who had been fending for himself for god knows how long because his parents were rarely ever home, and that was something else that made you realize that your previous assumptions about him had been wrong.

Before everything happened a few months ago, you were convinced that the “King Steve” douchebag narrative was unequivocally true. But, now after actually knowing him, it seemed as if the exact opposite was what was the truth. 

“Hi,” He said as he handed you a plate of eggs, bacon, and a buttered piece of toast. You placed the plate in your lap and Steve stood next to you with his on the counter. The simplicity of the moment made you smile at him.

“Thank you. You’re way too nice to me,” You told him before taking a bite of bacon. “One day I’ll wake up earlier than you and cook breakfast.”

Steve laughed a bit at the conviction in your tone. “I truly doubt that could ever happen. But, also, if you did make breakfast, that would ruin our routine of me doing breakfast and you doing dinner.”

“Should it be concerning that this has happened so much that we have a routine?” 

You knew what the answer to your question was but you still couldn’t help but ask it. How close you and Steve became over the past few months still confused you a bit as much as it made you feel completely at ease. 

“What? You don’t like spending time with me anymore?” He playfully asked, his bottom lip jutting out and making a pouty face that you tried hard not to laugh at. 

“When you make that face, definitely not,” You told him, smiling a bit. But then just as quickly as the smile came, it left because your mind got serious again, and you pulled your eyes away from his and let your thoughts wander back to that confused place. That place that was also full of so much worry and dread that sometimes made it hard to fully enjoy these good moments with Steve. 

He lightly poked your thigh. “What are you thinking?”

Somehow it didn’t surprise you that he was able to tell that your mind was spiraling, and it also didn’t surprise you that you immediately wanted to tell him what was going on in your head. 

“I don’t know,” You shrugged lightly and let out a small sigh. “It’s just sometimes I can’t help but think that if things were normal, if I was normal and could process everything that happened without having those fucking dreams, we wouldn’t be having moments like these.”

The dreams, or more so nightmares, that had plagued you almost every night since everything happened were the main reason why you’d find yourself sleeping at Steve’s more often than not. 

When it first started, it had been a week since everything happened and after the third nightmare in a row, you decided to call him. Him instead of anyone else involved because it just felt right to do so. You two had been in that junkyard and down in those tunnels together, protecting the kids while also protecting each other, so it felt like there was some sort of unspoken bond or link between you two now. 

“I don’t think there’s any “normal” way to process the shit we all went through,” Steve told you, and you knew he was right about that. “Also, even if you didn’t have those nightmares and there was really no reason for you to come here most nights, I’d still need you here. I’d still want you here.”

You let his words wrap around you like a warm blanket and push away your worry, at least for the time being. “Glad to know you still like spending time with me.” 

“You’re probably the best thing that came out of all the shittiness that happened,” He said with a small smile and it wasn’t hard to detect the sincerity behind his words.

“You are too,” You smiled back at him. “Those nightmares suck and I hate having them, so I’m happy I have you. And your bed. Mainly your bed, actually.”

He playfully poked your side, causing you to laugh, as he said, “I’m gonna make you sleep in the guest room tonight.”

You laughed harder. “That would be evil. If I have the worst nightmare of my life tonight, it’s all your fault.”

“I guess I’ll just have to live with the guilt,” He jokingly shrugged and you used your foot to give his hip a light kick, happy that you were still sitting atop the counter because it gave you some sort of leverage.

Steve let out a mock-offended “Ouch,” and then his voice got soft. “You wanna talk about what it was last night?”

Even though your answer was always no, Steve would still always ask that question because he thought maybe one day you’d actually wanna talk about the nightmares and maybe talking about it would help. A part of you also knew that it would probably help, but still, that didn’t mean that you ever wanted to talk about it. 

The nightmare was pretty much recurring, it just became different versions of the same story every night. It was always a pack of demodogs surrounding you, Steve, and the kids, and there was nothing that any of you could do to fight back, so what would happen next was always inevitable. But, the demodogs never got you. Instead, they would always get everyone else, the people you loved and cared for— the people that you wanted to protect. Which made it so much worse than if they had gotten you because there was nothing you could do to help save everyone else. 

Last night they had taken Dustin and then Lucas, and you’d woken up mid-scream right as they started chasing Max. 

Just the thought of the nightmare made you feel like you were right back in it, so you couldn’t even imagine trying to say it out loud. 

You swallowed down the lump in your throat before shaking your head at Steve’s question. “Not really, no.”

“Okay,” He said softly as his hand found your thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze before almost seamlessly changing the subject. “Hey, look what I got yesterday.”

He went to the pantry, rummaging through it a bit before pulling out a box of graham crackers, marshmallows, and a couple bars of chocolate. 

“We’re making s’mores?” You asked, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yes. You told me you never made them before, which feels like a crime, and I noticed the graham crackers at the grocery store and it gave me the idea and the rest just fell into place from there,” Steve explained. “And yes it’s freezing cold in the middle of February, and not the peak of Summer which is ideal s’mores making weather. But, we can do it tonight at the fireplace.”

Hearing his words made your heart swell. He was so fucking good to you. So thoughtful and sweet— definitely even sweeter than the s’mores you’d be making later. 

You reached out, beckoning him to come closer to you. “I really wanna kiss you.”

He smiled at that as he moved into the open space between your legs, placing the items in his hands down on the counter, and then letting his hands find your hips. “Do it.”

One of your hands found his cheek, which helped you steady yourself as you leaned in and slowly slotted your lips against his. 

This had happened so many times over the past few weeks, but still, kissing Steve managed to surprise you. The soft feel of his mouth against yours, his tongue expertly grazing your bottom lip to make the kiss deeper, his hands squeezing your hips and pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

It almost made you never want to kiss anyone else.

But even so, you two were on the same page about not wanting anything serious anytime soon, or maybe ever. He and Nancy had just broken up and it was clear that he was still at least somewhat hung up on her. And for as long as you could remember you’d planned on leaving Hawkins once you finished high school, which meant there would be no point starting anything with anyone. 

Therefore, because of those reasons, you two were simply unlikely friends that made out sometimes. In your mind it was no big deal. 

“I really wanna kiss you” were the words he said to you a few weeks ago in his car after he picked you up from your shift at the arcade and you two were talking about nothing in the driveway of your house. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his blunt honesty before whispering, “Do it.”

And from there things shifted. You and Steve were no longer simply friends helping each other through a tough time. However, you weren’t dating either; although, a lot of the things you two were doing could’ve been considered as such. It was a line that was continuously toed but never fully crossed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

A movie was playing, but neither of you were watching it. Well, actually, maybe Steve was, but you wouldn’t know since you’d fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

The position was surprisingly comfortable and you would’ve stayed as you were until the moment Steve lightly shook you awake and dragged you to his room so you could sleep in his even more comfortable bed. However, it seemed as if your mind was almost always against you because of how quickly the completely normal dream you were having morphed into the all too familiar nightmare, and you abruptly awoke with a start.

You let out a loud yelp and your heart was racing as you blinked and glanced around the living room, needing a moment to realize that you were awake now and completely safe and no longer watching Steve getting chased by a bunch of demodogs. 

Because, instead, he was sitting right next to you. One of his hands found yours and gave it a light squeeze as he whispered, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay.” 

Your gaze met his and you nearly cried at the way he was looking at you with so much concern in his eyes. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” He said, his thumb started softly stroking the back of your hand. “Are you alright?”

“Yes… No? I- I don’t know, it’s just…” You sighed and looked away from him as you finally let out what you’d been holding back for a long time. “It’s always pretty much the same thing that happens– the demodogs hurting all of you guys and I’m unable to do anything to stop them or help. And every single time it feels so real, and it hurts just as much as it did the first time I ever had the nightmare. I hate it.” 

The one thing you didn’t tell him was that sometimes it felt like things would never get better. It felt like you would be permanently stuck in this stage of processing it all; which consisted of you barely processing anything and only being so fucking scared and worried. 

Steve let go of your hand and instead wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t forget that El closed the gate,” He said softly. “None of it can hurt any of us anymore.” 

You felt yourself nodding at his words, trying to let them truly sink in and soothe your worried thoughts, but it was hard; way too hard to forget everything that happened or even move past it. And the fact that you couldn’t do so made you feel so upset with yourself.  

“I’ll be right back,” Your voice was quiet, but Steve heard you, and you were detaching yourself from him and rising from the couch before he could question you. 

When you made it to the bathroom down the hall you didn’t even bother turning on the light because you didn’t want to see what you looked like right then. You leaned against the sink and buried your face in your hands as you quietly cried. 

You wished you could go back to two hours ago when you and Steve were sitting in front of his fireplace making s’mores. It was a moment that was simple and easy and normal. It was also a moment that had mainly been filled with laughter because of the number of times you accidentally burned your marshmallows.

Now you were crying in his bathroom about everything that was wrong in your life and how you felt helpless, like nothing would ever be able to go back to how it used to be. 

You were unsure how long you’d been in the bathroom but when a knock sounded at the door you knew that it probably had been too long. 

You haphazardly wiped your tears away before opening the door, and Steve didn’t waste a moment to pull you into his arms. It was hard not to turn into what essentially felt like a pile of mush in Steve’s arms, and you let yourself cry even harder into his chest. 

“They never should’ve roped you into everything too,” He muttered as he softly started rubbing your back in small, soothing circles.  

“I wanted to help,” You told him, words slightly muffled by his shirt. You pulled back a bit and looked up at him. “And I don’t regret it, even though I probably should. But, they’re just kids. They’re the ones that really shouldn’t have had to deal with all of that shit.” 

One of his hands came up and cupped your cheek, wiping away some of your tears. “I wish there was more I could do to help you.”

You shook your head at his words. “You’re doing everything right.”

You could tell that he wanted to say something but was holding back. There was something about the look on his face that made you furrow your eyebrows curiously and you almost asked him what he was thinking, but he spoke before the question could form on your lips. 

“I love you.”

The three short words came out softly and they probably should’ve surprised you so much more than they did, but for some reason they didn’t. 

Because they just made so much sense. The two of you had been practically attached at the hip for the past two months, going from being nothing to one another to being the closest you’d ever been to anyone. Moments with him were the only thing that could make you feel completely safe and okay. 

So, this moment– him telling you that he loved you and you desperately wanting to say it back– felt practically inevitable.

And it didn’t even scare you how much you wanted to say the words right back to him, even though you knew it would probably complicate things and make leaving Hawkins, whenever that day came, so much harder. “I love you too.”

Your arms came up to loop around his neck as he gave you the softest smile that effectively melted your insides. 

For the first time in a long time, or probably ever, you felt like maybe just maybe things would actually get better.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

[western-magical-girl-confessions]

*Sigh…*

Hello everyone. I apologize for disappearing for a while. I know I promised to finish all the confessions and close them indefinitely, but with everything that has been going on in the past few months, I have just been reflecting a lot. After much consideration, I have made a decision:

On January 2, 2024, I am considering deleting this blog.

So with this said, I guess you might be wondering why, Well, I'll list the reasons. Been doing so for this long right?

I had been hesitant to admit it, but after some contemplation, I have come to the realization that this blog is becoming a negative experience for me. I've had to make confessions that I don't agree with and deal with anonymous hate for sharing confessions that I didn't even write. Trying to please everyone has also affected my own beliefs. Additionally, the lack of western magical girl shows has resulted in repetitive confessions. It's unfortunate, but my feelings about this blog may continue to fluctuate.

From then till now, I always said that not all the confessions made were by me, but I do admit that some of them were my own. I just want to be honest with all of you. I'm not proud of some of the confessions I made. Some aged like milk. Even though I know that I may still come across certain confessions that leave a bad taste in my mouth to this day, I just want to leave this part of my life behind me.

I have been a fan of several TV series, such as Miraculous Ladybug, She-Ra, Equestria Girls, My Little Pony, many others. However, some of the fans of these shows have given me negative experiences that I don't want to remember. Sometimes, reading these confessions reminds me of those bad experiences. Hence, I want to move on and forget about them. Nevertheless, I will cherish the good memories that these shows and their fandom have given me.

I need assurance that I won't be able to access this blog again, in case I give in to the temptation of making confessions once more. My desire is to move on and channel my energy towards other productive activities that will benefit me in my life. This has been a long-term aspiration for me, which I didn't do entirely.

I know I've said this countless times in the past, but I'll say this for the final time. I'm dealing with personal things that are just a real ongoing struggle, and I want to focus all my time and energy on them. Running this blog has started to feel like a chore, and I believe I've gotten all the satisfaction from it that I wanted.

Also, I've thought about moving on to focus on more original projects. I don't want to completely share these ideas publicly yet, but I've been having some ideas in mind.

Lastly, I'm just tired of constantly having to explain myself. I know that I don't owe anyone an explanation and I am not obligated to keep this blog active, but I did. I did it because I genuinely cared about you all and wanted to create something fun for fans of the magical girl genre. I wanted to provide a platform for others to express their feelings and thoughts without fear of being canceled. Unfortunately, I no longer want to do this…

Sorry guys for the redundant posts lol Let's just hope that this will be the last one until this blog closes (or goes inactive indefinitely). There’s no guarantee that I will delete this blog, but I’m just saying prepare for the possibility in the future. So if there’s anything that you would like to save or archive, then now’s the time to do so. I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to finish the remaining confessions in the box or not, because there's a strong possibility that I'll delete this blog anyway.

So if anyone has any thoughts or ideas or anything, feel free to say so. I have to admit, I'm going to miss this blog, but this is probably for the best.

Thanks again guys, and as always, stay magical.

If you wish to reach me (the mod), my main account is @misssakurapetal27

[ayeforscotland]

Hey previous anon

Sorry i think you misunderstood me about 'the deficit', more specifically that the average Scot currently receives more in public spending and contributes less in tax than the national average. Nothing to do with the national debt, more that the way Scotland is currently run is not financially sustainable and in order to BE financially sustainable as an independent country it would have to cut the things that make it better than the rest of the UK. Or tax people more. Which is a great way to sell a referendum.

Also I know its a tired comparison but 'our trade is currently restricted by the entity we do the vast majority of our trade with, so we need to erect massive tariff barriers with it and completely restructure our export market in order to reclaim our sovereignty' really?

'None of the practicalities of making this immense change really concern me so long as we have the capacity to make the decisions for ourselves' fucking really?

There's a reason why this blog only posts about the fuckups of Westminster, funny and many as they are, and its because you don't have answers about how to make this work beyond 'it will work.' 60% of your trade is with the UK? Doesn't matter, the EU will sort it out. Never mind the presumed change in tastes and preferences or the differences in competition structure, it'll just work. Because it has to.

As it stands, support for independence is about 50/50. And running with that comparison, what happened the last time the government made a decision with little consideration of the consequences that half the country opposed?

Again its pointless because this is your identity so nothing's gonna get changed here, and I recognise the same is true for me. It's just frustrating.

Okay so I reckon you're pulling this from the annual GERS report which accounts for Scotland as a region of the UK rather than if Scotland was an independent country. This means the GERS contains multiple UK-wide expenditures which are not controlled by the Scottish Government. These costs are applied to GERS as a population percentage of total UK Government expenditure, this happens regardless of where that expenditure was applied and whether it was the Scottish or British government that spent the money. This *is* impacted by UK National Debt. There's a line in GERS called the 'Public Sector Debt Interest' which is the interest on the debt accrued by the British Government that Scotland contributes to paying off. From 2019-2020 this added up to an additional £4.5 Billion. Lastly on the economics side, several revenues like Oil & Gas taxation, corporation tax and VAT are controlled by the UK Government. Changes to those can drastically alter Scotland's income without running it past the Scottish Government. Now on to Trade - It's funny you talk about barriers when the UK has just bent over backwards to get a deal for Northern Ireland through. The only reason you would talk about erecting a barrier between Scotland and England is because you believe the British Government are going to deliberately negotiate in bad faith. And sure, you might claim that that's their right, but that's not exactly going to win anyone over to the pro-union side. I never said anything about ignoring the practicalities so I'd appreciate you don't put words in my mouth. Becoming an independent country will require hard work and effort, and it's 100% worth it if we are able to then make our own economic decisions. We barely have to look back six months to see a Tory Party tanking the economy on a whim over the course of a week. I have plenty of criticisms about the Scottish Government - it often moves at a frustratingly glacial pace to enact change. Some policies stagnate because of lack ambition from senior civil servants. But that's nothing compared to the ridiculousness of the Westminster system who are often outright malicious in their policy-making - and they hold the purse strings for the devolved governments. There is a democratic deficit in the UK, and it's why many people support independence. I know this is probably difficult for you to reconcile with which is why unionists tend to opt for the barrage of practicalities first, and you're never happy with any of the answers so you just resort to saying we've not answered the questions. At the end of the day you just don't want Scotland to leave the UK because you see that as part of your identity - and that's absolutely fine. But pretending that Scotland is some unique economic basket case is silly. I'm cool with unionsts who openly say they are passionate about the union, they don't need to dress it up.

[maddys-nerd-blog]

Hey guys!!!

Sorry for the lack of posts! I’ve been super busy, but the good news is I’ve got another TMNT fanfic done! This time it’s a one shot, and it’s based on a whumptober prompt!!

This one I just recently completed! It’s also a kind of introduction to my OC, Lilium!

For context, in this AU, it’s an OC x Donatello story that has a ongoing plot I’m currently working on alongside my Familia AU! It takes place during Season 4 of the 2003 series!

Enjoy! 😄

I’m Never Leaving You

A TMNT 2003 One Shot

Whumptober Prompt: Shock

“You are pathetic.”

That was the hundredth time Karai had said those words in the past couple hours. Lilium wasn’t sure if the kunoichi was trying to ingrain the saying into her head to get her to crack, but they were becoming grating.

Of course, that was small potatoes given her current situation.

The butcher shop was empty, having been closed for a few weeks due to failing a health code inspection. Aunt Katie was pretty annoyed at first because this was her favorite place to get roast beef sandwiches, but who would have imagined that such an ordinary place would become the impromptu hideout for the Foot?

Lilium sat on the scuffed tiled floor, her hands tied behind her, hair a frizzy mess that hung around her back. Locked around her throat the electric shock collar hugged the Siren symbols imprinted into her flesh, burning beneath the heavy metal devise that beeped ominously, a warning for if she dare try to shriek. Her broken nose was clogged with blood, most of it having leaked down her face and drying around her split lips to make her look like a wreck. The formerly cream colored leggings she wore were muddied and caked with stains of crimson and dust. A failed escape attempt two days ago. Her raspberry blouse was tattered and torn around her stomach and elbows from where steel toed boots struck her abdomen.

It wasn’t the words themselves that got under her skin. It was the cloying fear.

Ever since she’d gotten kidnapped, the cold claws of dread sank themselves deep into her core and started digging. Being a captive to someone as ruthless as Karai was one thing. But this time, it was personal. It had been a month since Karai had taken the mantle of being the Shredder. And in that time during the turtle’s much needed recovery process, she’d become… unhinged.

Lilium didn’t really know Karai outside of her connection with the Foot. Donnie had told her the basics of her relationship with Shredder, but otherwise? She’d only known her as the cutthroat ninja who would do anything to please her master. Even if it meant killing teenagers.

And her unpredictability was scaring her the most.

Stalking around the girl, the woman observed her with a blank glare. Lilium refused to look at her, lest she receive any kind of verbal or physical scolding. Her eyes stayed glued to the ground, where droplets of her blood had fallen in front of her knees. Don’t do something stupid Lily. Just stay calm…

“You are pathetic,” repeated Karai, her voice laced with callousness. “How is it that you were able to defeat several of the Purple Dragons? Sheer dumb luck?”

Lilium refused to respond.

Karai’s hands were suddenly grabbing her hair. Unforgiving, the woman yanked her head upwards and forced her to meet dark obsidian eyes that reminded Lilium of ravens. Her lips were curled into a furious snarl. “Answer me, child!”

Lilium grit her teeth, a pained whimper sneaking past. Even so, she refused to speak.

“If you do not speak, there shall be punishments. It would be wise to obey, lest I begin breaking your bones,” Karai’s words were hard as stone. She meant every word of her threat. Her scornful expression only spoke one thing; Don’t try my patience.

Lilium grit her teeth, eyes narrowed at the woman with disdain. “Is it y-your favorite hobby t-to kidnap kids? To beat them up…? Cuz that’s pretty sad.”

“For a girl with a sharp tongue, you should understand when it is time to curb your words.” Karai shoved Lilium’s head away, scornful. “Your mother did not teach you well.”

Her frustration ticked at the comment. Clearing her throat to better get her words across, Lilium snapped back at the nutcase. “At least my mom didn’t teach me to be a hateful bitch with daddy issues.” Lilium let that comment fly like molasses spilling from a jar; slow, biting, a low blow in every sense of the word. She’d learned from Raph, so it seemed.

If she’d struck a cord, Karai was doing a good job hiding it. Or she didn’t care. The ninja had the resolve of a cheetah, unfazed and unimpressed. Lilium watched as the armor clad monster stepped back, crimson lips curled into a sharp grin, devilish and razor-like. “You believe yourself to be clever. But you will understand that you are not as strong as you think.”

Lilium mentally prepared herself for the worst. She expected a slap to the face, a kick to the stomach, or the collar to start going off.

But Karai, instead, reached into her belt and unclipped a scalpel from a side pouch. The slim knife glinted dangerously beneath the buzzing lightbulbs over her head. Lilium’s breath caught in her throat with panic.

“Let me get one thing very clear,” Karai knelt to her level, scalpel twirling around her fingers, keeping it in view to let Lilium’s fear grow. “I am not above taking you apart, piece by piece, to see how long it takes until I can break you. I could use your vocal chords as a source of power to bring your friends to their knees. I could even use you as a battery.” She brought the knife towards her, the tip of the blade pointed directly at her temple. “You are just a means to an end. If I take your life, you shall go unnoticed.”

Lilium’s heart was in her throat. Horror encased her features, breathing quick and shallow, her instincts going berserk as the tip of the knife was pressed into the skin of her forehead.

“This can all cease if you just tell me where I can find the turtles.” Karai let a faux tone of pity tint her voice. “I will let you go home if you give me what I ask.”

Lilium grit her teeth so tight her jaw clicked in place, molars gnashing terribly hard in her mouth that she was sure they were cracking. Oh God this was bad, this was very very bad. Her body was shaking against her will. She wanted to throw up, she wanted to scream but she couldn’t. How could she possibly surrender her friends like this? How could she be given such an ultimatum? She couldn’t hand the guys over to this psycho! She’d probably torture them worse than what Lilium had been forced to go through! She could hand them over to Bishop and THAT curdled the contents of her stomach to the point of near vomiting. Donnie had already been out through that shit once, he didn’t deserve any of it. They’d all been pushed too far to the brink. They nearly DIED.

Momma had raised her to always do the right thing even when you were afraid. Donnie showed her how to be brave.

But she knew how deadly Karai was. She knew first hand how horrifying Bishop was. She was scared. She was only fifteen. She wanted to go to college, she wanted to live, she wanted to go home and believe this was all a nightmare. She wanted to be with Donnie, to hear his voice, to hug him and cry her eyes out. To hear him reassure her that it was all just a bad dream and that nothing could hurt her.

Lilium couldn’t help the sob that cracked through her teeth, the knife pressing further into her skin enough to start drawing blood that slowly trickled down her forehead and riding along the curve of her nose.

“Tell me,” Karai gripped the scalpel tight in her fist, applying more pressure on the scalpel. It punctured this time, sinking deep into her forehead. “Or this will get worse.”

Things weren’t already worse than they were now?

Lilium’s throat burned under the uncomfortable collar, magic trying to escape but unable to find an exit. She screwed her eyes tight when the knife started to drag towards the right, creating a vertical cut about two inches long, blood trailing down her face. Sucking down air in rapid succession, the girl prayed it would be over soon, she prayed she’d die faster than this, she prayed for help. She wanted to go home she wanted to go home she wanted to go home she wanted to go home—

“Karai,” entering the threshold with a deep bow, a thin lackey dawning the standard black Foot garb quickly dropped to kneel at the doorway, his head lowered. “Forgive my intrusion. I bring news.”

The jonin finally removed the scalpel from her skin— Lilium hadn’t realized she was crying until the stinging in her eyes became sharper— sending a cold glare to the henchman. “What is it?“

“I’ve received a status report,” he dutifully replied. “The package is secured. Our soldiers are en route to deliver it to you.”

Something sinister crossed Karai’s face. There was almost satisfaction behind her wicked smile as she looked back to Lilium. The bone chilling gaze in her heartless eyes was enough to make her shrink back a little in fright out of what she’d do.

“It appears my forces have not disappointed me.” Rising from the floor, Karai put the scalpel away into her belt. “I must go and oversee the package’s arrival.” Another ominous grin crawled up her lips as she observed Lilium’s shaking form. “Perhaps if you behave, I shall bring you back a treat.”

Lilium found it hard to swallow. What could that possibly mean?

Lilium was left behind in the back room as Karai made her leave with the lackey. The girl stared, scared out of her mind, mind racing with all the possibilities of what Karai was going to get. What could it be? A new shipment of guns? Mutants? New alien tech to track the turtles?

There were dozens of things. But one thought persisted in the scared haze of the Siren. I hope the guys get away in time…

********************

It was two hours that Karai had been gone, and in that time of dreary silence and a pounding migraine that rocked her skull like a battering ram, Lilium had dozed off. The need for sleep had overtaken her, despite every fiber of her being protesting not to. There were injuries she probably didn’t know about, internal ones that needed attention, but how could she assess the damage done to her when her hands were tied? When her magic was locked behind a shock collar? Without the ability to heal the worst of her wounds, she’d passed out. She’d fallen into an uncertain slumber, twitching painfully, unable to dream in the horrid environment she was trapped in. All she could do was sit there in the middle of the room and wait for whatever was to come.

In between short lapses of consciousness, Lilium thought of better things to distract herself from the ringing in her ears or the blood clogging her nostrils. She pictured herself running through Central Park on a beautiful sunny day without the fear of being chased or hunted. She imagined everyone she loved at the family dinner table, enjoying every kind of pizza they could think of. She saw glimpses of a starry sky, the taste of dark chocolate faint on the back of her tongue, earbud in one ear with the other being shared, holding onto a three fingered hand with a thrumming heartbeat that worried if she’d gotten this wrong, only for said hand to slowly squeeze back to affirm the unspoken question that hung in the air; Am I in love with my best friend?

She thought of a grand party being thrown in the wake of the Triceratons finally having found peace, the lair awash with brightly colored lights and music, of aching feet that were surely going to be blistered in the morning but not giving a damn because this was a celebration. She remembered slipping away from the too loud shouts and crowded dance floor and finding refuge somewhere in a long tunnel that led into a small passage beneath Madison Square Garden. She remembered the same three fingered hand suddenly finding hers in the dark, a lamp in hand, a bashful smile as he asked her for a dance, leading her into a slow, steady waltz with no music, no tempo, no high energy beat that bounced the walls. Just them, a lamp to light the way, and Lilium’s voice humming along to the melody of Mandy Moore’s greatest hits.

Those were better than the grim reality she was forced to endure.

Around the three hour mark the doors were violently slammed open, startling Lilium wide awake from her thoughts. All of a sudden her eyes were flooded with lights blinding her, squinting against the painful sting and the spots that spun around her sight. If she wasn’t so injured she’d have tried to move back and get as far away from the incoming entourage.

Five Foot goons marched into the room, following Karai as the woman made her way into the lonely threshold with her head held high, looking pleased with herself. There were distinct dark red stains marking the chest plate of her armor, making Lilium freeze at the unsettling sight. Oh God…

“Good news, girl,” Karai announced, stepping aside to create an opening for her men. “I bring you a present.”

The tone in her voice sent chills down her spine. Oh no. What kind of present was she talking about? Knowing her track record, Lilium doubted it was something cute and cuddly. She couldn’t imagine Karai skipping merrily into a clothes store just to find something worth tormenting her over. The woman was as ruthless as a viper, unforgiving and dangerous; it was going to be something painful, and whatever it was it was going to hurt. Badly.

Two more men came into the room, dragging someone between them. The figure appeared unconscious had it not been for the angry grunts. Their arms were behind them. Their ankles were bound, uselessly dragged under them. Lilium’s heart rate escalated faster, faster, ever faster as they came into the light and she saw who this newcomer was.

Olive green skin. A shell. Purple mask.

Purple mask. No. NO!

“NOOOO!” Any type of patience Lilium might have had snapped like a twig. Adrenaline rushed through her veins. She struggled to get to her feet, voice cracking uncomfortably from the shriek that tore out of her throat, the collar beeping in rapid warning to remind her of her punishment. “DONNIE!”

Donatello snapped his head up at the sound of her voice— Lilium’s panicking only increased. Other than the bruises scattering the skin around his arms and face, he looked unharmed. His gear was gone, his knee and elbow pads missing, his belt taken, his bō noticeably absent. The second his eyes locked onto hers and he took in the brutal state she was in, it was as if a switch was flipped in his brain.

“LILY!” He cried out, thrashing against his bonds with as much power as he could give. “Karai, you promised she wasn’t hurt! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!”

Karai just smirked at the ninja with disdain. “I never had to assure you of her well-being. Be grateful she still breathes.”

“DONNIE!” Lilium’s voice was shrill against the pain. Tears pricked her eyes and blurred her vision, but she didn’t stop screaming. The collar started beeping louder. “I’M SO SORRY DONNIE!”

The genius was thrown to his knees with a thud. He grit his teeth, but he didn’t let the sudden jolt of agony in his legs perturb him from calling out to the girl. “Lily! Lily, look at me! I promise you’re going to be alright!” His eyes turned hateful as he looked up towards the woman who’d done this. “What did you do to her!?”

“Only what I would have done if I had found one of you,” Karai cooly answered. “It is her fault for disobeying.”

“Disobey…?!” Donatello sounded disgusted.

“I gave her direct instructions and she broke them. I only saw it fit to punish her.” Karai strode towards Lilium once more, heels clicking loudly in the quiet of the room. “But now that I have acquired YOU, perhaps I will finally obtain answers.” Once Karai moved behind the girl, a clawed, steely hand coming to fall upon her shoulder. Lilium shuddered. “You, Donatello, are going to tell me where I can find your brothers, your master, and your human friends.”

Donatello’s face turned to stone. Without missing a beat, he snapped at the warrior. “I’m not telling you anything.”

The claws on Lilium’s shoulder sank into her skin. She bit her lip to refrain from crying. Karai was silent for a moment, waiting for something. “Are you certain?”

Donatello glared at her icily in response.

The claws sank deeper into her shoulder. Lilium’s heart quickened.

“Very well,” Karai spoke calmly.

Lilium’s eyes locked onto Donatello with worry. His gaze followed something behind her she couldn’t see, the alarm in his face prominent. “What are you—“

The collar went off.

And Lilium’s world only knew fire.

A strangled scream ripped through her throat. Electricity blinded her vision and powerful volts created a hellfire unlike any other in her throat. The metal burned from the staticky currents of electrical torture that ruined her voice. Sensitive muscle tissue became numb from the inside and started to erode. Uncontrolled spasms of agony rocked her body forward as she finally dropped to the ground, writhing blindly. She couldn’t see anything but black spots that tinted the edges of her sight into blurry messes of tears that poured down her face, her teeth gnashing hard to stop herself from biting her tongue. The smell of human flesh burning stuck in her sinuses.

In the background she could vaguely hear Donatello screaming in horror. Muffled pleas of mercy went unheard in her wailing, the electric shocks making her deaf to everything else.

Then, after an excruciating eternity of electric hell, it stopped.

Lilium curled into a ball, wheezing, spitting blood. There was an intense ringing in her ears. Her head hurt. She could feel her throat bleeding under the collar. Even taking a breath felt like a chore with crushed windpipes.

“— MONSTER! Leave her alone, your fight is with me!”

“Tell me where your brothers and Sensei are, and this ends.”

“YOU’RE CRAZY! Shredder is gone! You won’t get him back by doing this—“

The collar activated once more, and Lilium’s back arched as another hellish pain overcame her. Screaming at the top of her lungs as the volts somehow got more intense. They weren’t this harsh before. Had the power been increased?!

“STOP IT!” Donatello hollered in desperation. “STOP! PLEASE STOP!”

The volts grew higher. Her throat constricted and suddenly Lilium was choking. She couldn’t breathe. Foam gathered at the corners of her lips, blood caught in her lungs and threatened to fill them. Sensitive skin near the bottom of her jaw and windpipe felt like it was cracking from the severe intensity of the burns.

“PLEASE! SHE’S GOING INTO SHOCK! HER THROAT WILL TEAR! SHE’LL DIE! KARAI, PLEASE!”

Black dots started coloring her eyesight. Donatello sounded farther away than she thought. Why couldn’t she concentrate…?

“EASTMAN!”

The collar abruptly shut off. Even then Lilium didn’t move. Her body twitched, choked grunts pushing past bloodied lips. Her lungs were jelly, her throat was toast. She wanted to curl up and die. Despite the world being blurry, Karai’s steel armor came into view overhead as she matched Donatello’s gaze with an expecting glare. “Speak.”

“Eastman and 87th! You’ll find a parking garage with a false bottom in the floor! That’s where our hideout is!” Donatello rasped. He sounded petrified, out of breath, like he’d just had the air ripped out of his chest. “I swear! Please…! Please just stop… she’s had enough.”

Donnie, Lilium thought with broken dismay. No…

There was silence. Karai stepped over the fallen girl and disappeared from view. Donatello wasn’t talking now; he was breathing too quickly, like he had just re-emerged from under the water. Was he okay…?

“Gather our men and head to the location the freak provided. We are going to have a family reunion.”

******************

At least the new leader of the Foot kept her word to some extent, whether or not she was going to make good on the false promise of leniency. They were left alone shortly after Donatello gave her what she wanted. Karai and her men left, a few of them stayed behind to guard the two prisoners until they were needed. What could they be needed for? Lilium didn’t know. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere in their state, let alone escape.

Donatello and Lilium were left in the dimly lit room with the bloody floor and the stench of burning skin lingering. The collar was reactivated to prevent the girl from screaming any further, while Donatello had been gagged. Why? To stop him from talking, to stop him from comforting her? Maybe it was some kind of punishment for his delay in giving Karai an answer; not being able to communicate.

It had stayed like that for an hour. Lilium and Donatello both trapped in this terrible situation with nowhere to go.

Her magic couldn’t do anything now, strength and stamina depleted from the torture. The only thing that made noise was the shock collar that chirped softly. She hated it. The girl could taste bile and blood in her mouth, acidic and coppery, making her nauseous. There was a knocking deep inside her skull… it was as if everything was torn apart.

Was this what Donnie went through on the Triceraton fleet ship…? Did it hurt as badly as this…?

A featherlight tap on the back of her shoulder brought out a panicked jolt. Against the protesting migraine, Lilium snapped her head up, fight or flight kicking in… only to find Donatello there, sitting closer to where she was lying, his eyes filled with sorrow and guilt.

Her heart broke seeing him. “D-Don…” she couldn’t even form the words of his name. She sounded as if she’d decided to swallow staples for fun. It BURNED to speak. “I…”

Donatello mumbled something incoherent behind the gag, his tone laced with concern. He scooted close enough to accidentally nudge his knee into the side of her head. While gentle, it still made her wince due to the headache.

His presence offered reassurance. Lilium found herself resting her brow against his knees; it hurt to breathe, but at least the collar wasn’t as tight around her lacerated throat now. Was she simply imagining things?

Donatello mumbled something to her again. Her exhausted eyes lifted to meet his despite the pressure building in her head. Smiling weakly with red lips and a ghostly face, the girl tried to put on a brave face for him. “‘Re… you… okay?”

If he wasn’t trying to stay sturdy for her, he would have cried. But he nodded regardless, making a noise of affirmation.

She grinned. “Good…” she sniffed— blood still clogged her nose. When the collar beeped ominously Lilium froze— she missed how Donatello went rigid above her, eyes glued to the devise, staring in panic as if waiting for the inevitable to happen. It was only when the chirping continued that the two understood the warning; no talking.

Somehow, this hurt worse.

Lilium grit her teeth and laid her head against Donatello’s knees, face screwed up in turmoil. This was just sadistic. This was especially cruel. Who knew language could be so vital to the mental stability of two teenagers that desperately needed the confirmation that the other wasn’t going to die? When you couldn’t verbally communicate with someone, when you couldn’t talk, when you couldn’t use your words to ask if you were okay, if your friend was hurt, if your friend needed help, it was driving her crazy. If she talked she risked being electrocuted again, probably risked death. Donatello couldn’t speak with the cloth tied in his mouth, voice locked behind an obstacle that muted his words into gibberish. He was forbidden from making sure she was going to pull through this.

Tears finally started to trickle down her cheeks. Sobs were frail and withered, but the long rivers marking her skin were enough to show her despair. Heart breaking, finally, finally unable to withstand the pain the girl wept pitifully into Donatello’s knees. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t be strong like Donnie, she truly was pathetic. She’d been used as bait to lure out the person she loved and now he was going to be hurt and his brothers would be captured too—

Then… music.

Music reached her ears. Quiet, hushed, just loud enough to reach her ears and hers alone. Had she gone insane?

Lilium blinked in bewilderment, hiccuping, trying to locate the sudden shift…

She found Donnie instead.

He was… not singing— he literally couldn’t with a gag in his mouth— but he was… humming.

He was humming the lyrics to a Les Mis song she loved. Lilium almost couldn’t believe it.

A Little Fall of Rain; A song she’d used to audition for school. The musical she memorized by heart. The song she’d practiced with for weeks because EVERY girl her age was singing I Dreamed a Dream or On My Own. The song he’d sing with her just because he could— for someone who focused so much on his tech or inventions, he had a beautiful voice of his own; it was gentle, inviting like summer rain. She’d listen to him for hours if she could. It meant something to her.

And hearing him humming it to her here, knowing it was special to her, knowing it brought her happiness, trying to offer comfort when his words couldn’t do so…

Lilium’s sobs picked up. She pressed her forehead into his knees, the cut that had stung horribly earlier now adding to her migraine. She wanted this to be over. She wanted this nightmare to be done with. Everything she’d gone through had been in vain; Karai was going to hurt people and her friends were in danger. Magic couldn’t save them now. She put Donnie in danger…

How could she possibly forgive herself for this?

Donatello’s eyes shifted towards the door behind him, watching it carefully. Still humming the song to keep her calm, he pulled on his bonds to test their strength, but again, no dice. Lilium could see the irritation in his face, teeth gnashing into the cloth.

Then he paused. Something clicked behind his eyes. An idea?

Taking a deep breath, Donatello shifted his legs to tuck them beneath him, effectively kneeling. Her head still rested against his knees, but Lilium frowned in quiet confusion. “D-Dee…?”

Donatello shook his head, trying to offer reassurance. He steadied himself, taking another deep breath as he stretched his arms far behind him to reach for something she couldn’t see. He grunted with the strain of his shoulders, trying to locate what he was looking for.

He seemed to grab onto whatever he was trying to find, judging by the relieved look in his face. Passing another cautionary glance towards the door he waited with baited breath, staying completely still until he was certain nobody was coming in. Lilium couldn’t help but think, is he trying to get a knife?

But, after a couple minutes of struggling, Lilium couldn’t hear the sawing of a knife cutting rope. Instead, much to her surprise, she watched as Donatello shifted a little where he sat, grunting with effort, before the ropes around his ankles came loose and fell around his feet, freeing them. Had he used just his hands to get himself out of his bonds? Holy shit, she couldn’t help but think. That’s pretty clever.

Donatello adjusted his position to sit properly, kicking the ropes away from him. Finally able to use his legs the turtle crouched beside Lilium, turning his back to her. His hands flexed against the ropes binding them, fingers reaching for something he couldn’t find this time.

“D-Don?” She managed, confusion evident in her broken voice.

Donatello tried speaking again, but unfortunately nothing he said made sense. “Mmhf mmnh,” he continued trying to look for something that wasn’t there, fingers grabbing at air. He was looking at her with an expression of imploring, as if he were asking for something. “Hrrh phhn.”

Was he trying to talk to her…? Lilium helplessly shook her head with confusion. “I don’t—“

A sharp jolt of electricity burst through her throat. It felt as if someone had stabbed her straight through the windpipe. The choked scream that came out of her caused Donatello to whirl around to look at her, his eyes suddenly brimming with panic. The nerves in her throat were shot, scorched from hours of being shocked, the pain a searing fire that melted her windpipe. A whine turned into an agonized whimper as her body shuddered from the punishment.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. It hurt to do anything.

Fingers quickly found her temple. Lilium didn’t have the energy to move any longer, stamina depleted from the battered form of the girl. The three digits brushed through messy bangs as if trying to locate something hidden there, combing through them as fast as possible. All the while he made these frantic chirps, clearly distressed when she didn’t make any motion to turn away from him.

She didn’t think everything around her could be so lopsided. The colors of the room began to blend into one another and blur into a confusing hodgepodge of nonsense like Alice in Wonderland. Her stomach twisted itself into knots and the front of her head was pounding so hard it made it difficult to see straight. Why was it hard to focus? Why couldn’t she move anymore?

The fingers were raking through her hair quickly until they snagged onto something and pulled it free. They felt around with another hand to find the collar, feeling it’s unyielding hold and desperately trying to pull on it. Lilium didn’t even flinch.

Donatello twisted his wrists enough to turn the left hand towards her, pinching something tight in his fingers as he guided what Lilium vaguely recognized as a hairpin into an open slot in the shock collar. It barely registered to her foggy consciousness that he was picking the lock.

He must’ve been turning and adjusting the position of the hairpin so much that his hand had to hurt, but he wasn’t letting up. Donatello stubbornly kept moving the flimsy lock pick up and down in the lock mechanism to get the damn thing to pop open. But this was Karai they were talking about; it wasn’t just going to give so easily.

Something in the front of her head knocked against her skull with a powerful pang. Glossy eyes fluttered against the pulsing pain, a wrangled whimper caught deep in her voice box. Something began to trickle free down her nose again. Noise was starting to fade around her. She couldn’t even hear the muffled voice of Donatello almost crying out to her, the hairpin twisting and shaking in his hand, a fearful pitch to his tone. He sounded far away…

Something loud clicked against her throat. A shrill chirp from the collar went off, before a very distinct pop.

Then the collar unlocked, opening just barely enough to allow the pressure around her neck to loosen. It became easier to breathe. Even then, Lilium didn’t have the strength to move. She couldn’t even feel the relief of the collar being deactivated. Something started leaking out from under the metal.

Was… her throat oozing?

But all at once, muddled sounds came through the room. A door was kicked open. Footsteps raced towards them, hands were quick to ease Lilium into a comfortable position. Rushed, panicked voices phased into a cacophony of confusion, flashes of red, blue, orange, gray and lavender passing by. Frantic hands touched her face, pressed down on her throat, wrapped her in something warm to shield her. Yet she couldn’t see anyone clearly, nor could she speak to question what was going on or why everyone was shouting.

“Don! Don, Jesus, are you okay—“

“My son, you are injured—“

“Bro calm down—“

“She’s DYING! She’s DYING, I need to help her!”

“Dear God in Heaven, hallowed be thy name—“

“Lily please look at me, don’t go to sleep! Lily?!”

But the voices were garbled, as though she’d been sinking underwater. All noise faded in the background. Before Lilium could begin to comprehend what was going on, the girl felt herself slip into a state of complete oblivion.

And nothing after that mattered when her world turned into a quiet void.

********************

Putting the last of the gauze away in the medical kit, Donatello tiredly breathed out a long, heavy sigh. Bloodied rags, a basin full of red-tinted water long since grown cold, spools of bandages around the desk and switching thread lay abandoned. He tried not to pay too much attention to the frightening amount of switches that crawled around Lilium’s thin throat.

Hours had gone by since the rescue. He was grateful Leo was able to follow the tracking devise hidden in the back of his mask— a fatal mistake Karai had paid for with their escape. While it hadn’t been easy for his brothers to get through the mess of ninja that guarded the deli, Father had taken them out single handedly. He’d looked so worried for him when he came running into the room, claws clutching his cane in an iron grip. It was integral for this plan to have gone smoothly to avoid the likelihood of death… but look where that ended up.

Donatello had only sustained minor injuries. He’d been lucky all things considered. Small cuts on his wrists, shallow enough to heal in a week, bruising that would pass over the next few days. He couldn’t say the same for Lily.

Three broken ribs. A sprained ankle. Broken nose, a severe concussion, seizures every few hours because of the electrical shocks.

Her throat was… charred. Suffering extreme third degree burns lacerating her entire neck, her Siren symbols almost looked as if the burned skin had peeled them off, leaving deep impressions of them behind. Pale skin had turned a vivid scarlet and had ripped the flesh open as soon as the collar was pried free, causing concern the moment she started bleeding out. He and Ms. Yasaki had spent a little over two hours painstakingly sewing each ligament shut with slow, precise care to ensure her survival. Once the magic had stopped the curatorial artery from gushing blood, things were easier to maintain.

“You did a good job,” seated at her daughter’s bedside as the girl lay as still as stone on the cot set up in his workshop, her mother dabbed her brow gently with a wet cloth to prevent a fever. Thick bags under her eyes showed the strain of how much magic she’d pumped into her daughter’s injuries to save her life. While she spoke to the worn out turtle, her gaze didn’t pry away from Lily. “You got the collar off before it could go any deeper.”

“It still tore her throat open.” Donatello murmured, closing the medical kit shut with a slap. “I could have killed her if I hadn’t been rushing.”

“How could you have known?” Ms. Yasaki brushed the hair stuck to Lilium’s sweaty face away with a tender hand, looking crestfallen to see her child in such a state. “It was that monster Karai who put that thing on her, not you. You understand?”

Donatello hung his head. He tried not to look at his trembling hands, stained with Lilium’s blood that still ran warm in his palms. He felt sick. “I should have found her sooner…”

Ms. Yasaki was quiet for a moment. Her hand still brushing through long locks of black hair that remained damp from being scrubbed carefully hours earlier. “Donatello. It’s because of you she got a fighting chance to make it out of there. Because of the damage, Karai would have killed her if you didn’t get the collar off in time. You did all you could. That’s all anyone can do at that point.” With a tender brush of her hand, magenta magic hovered over the stitches holding Lilium’s throat closed. A soft hue glowed from her palm, washing over the raised wound where her Siren marks had nearly vanished. Donatello watched with muted awe as the mystic energy brought forth the unnatural symbols that marked her skin like a tattoo back to normal. While faded in color vibrancy, they remained intact once more.

“All we can do now is help take some of the pain away and pray for a successful recovery. It’s up to Lily to pull through the rest of this.” Ms. Yasaki retracted her hand from her throat. “Have faith.”

“Ms. Yasaki…” Donatello found himself saying. “What if she can’t sing again because of this…?”

Her mother was silent. She let his words mull over her. Gentle, sorrowful eyes stared down at her child with remorse over the likelihood over the possibility. “We’ll have to cross that bridge once we get there.” The answer was melancholy, as if she couldn’t bare the thought of telling Lilium her one source of happiness was going to be taken from her.

It crushed Donatello to have to hear such a thing. He couldn’t even picture her reaction to the news. He moved to the sink and started scrubbing his hands clean of the blood, lathering soap up to his elbows to try and stave off the unnerving feeling of uneasiness. The red tinted suds that flooded the porcelain as the warm water ran almost made him dizzy. How much blood had she lost already?

Ms. Yasaki finally put her hands in her lap, trying to put on a brave face in spite of the stress. “I’m going to wash up and put on some supper. You’re probably starving. Do you want anything?”

Donatello couldn’t think of eating anything. The thought of food made his skin crawl; supper was the last thing on his mind. Drying his hands off as he pulled a stool close, he eased himself down at Lilium’s bed side, his gaze falling to rest upon her sickly face. Reaching down to take Lilium’s hand into his own he numbly replied, “Coffee. Please.”

The request made Ms. Yasaki frown with sympathy, but she nodded regardless. Turning her heel with quiet dignity she made her leave, and suddenly Donatello found himself back to square one.

Just him and Lily once more. Except this time it was stifling with the quiet.

It had been close. Way too close. All that time planning and strategizing, all that effort, wasted. He hadn’t been fast enough to stop this. So many times he believed he could make it, that he could finally save someone and avoid the trauma. It had been one of the reasons why he allowed himself to get captured— Raph volunteered initially to be the bait to find Karai’s hideout, but he didn’t know Lily like he did. He didn’t know how to calm her down, he hadn’t been around her long enough to understand how Lilium reacted to stress. Donatello could have given her the attention and care she needed in that situation. But even with all of the extra prep time he hadn’t been able to prevent Lilium from getting her throat deep fried.

He lifted his head to look at her. Despite the awful scarring wrapping around her neck and the cut on her temple, she looked peaceful. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of her wound no matter how hard he tried; Blistered, raised stitches pinning it closed, dry blood caked around the Siren symbols. The colors of her mystical markings weren’t as vibrant as they should be, rubbing him the wrong way. It was insidious to have targeted her throat, a vital weakness for a Siren. This wasn’t just torture. This was personal.

Had Karai known that? All that pain just for the sake of revenge for the man who raised her to be a killer. All this misery inflicted just because she wanted to hurt someone weaker than her.

Donatello squeezed Lilium’s hand. It was warm, frail, dainty in his own. They couldn’t have been more different, but they somehow found a middle ground. Their mutual adoration of each other was the defining factor to allow them to stay as close as they were. One year, four months and seventeen days. That was how long it took for him to process how exactly he felt about the girl who took a chance on him in that decrepit record store where the only thing that mattered was the music playing around them.

He couldn’t admit the truth out loud in fear of ridicule or harm to come to either one of them or their families, worrying over what kind of reactions they would have if they knew. He loved her. He loved her and he’d nearly lost her tonight.

Donatello used his free hand to run his fingers through her hair in the same soothing motions he knew she liked. He hoped it brought her some kind of levity whilst she slept. “Hey Lily,” he murmured, deciding that the silence was too maddening to handle any longer. “I dunno if you can hear me, but I’m here.”

Lilium didn’t respond.

“I’m… sorry for not being able to save you fast enough. I’m supposed to be the smart one, I’m supposed to have all the answers, but when I saw you in there and I had to see Karai hurt you…” he stopped himself, unwilling to remember to grizzly events of the evening that would forever imprint itself into his psyche and remind him of how close he’d been to watching her die. “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He lifted her hand close to his chest, a thumb brushing across the ridges of her knuckles softly. He hated how scratched her skin was, how chaffed and sore her wrists were under the clean, crisp bandaging. “I need you to know, no matter how long this takes, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you.”

Donatello couldn’t tell if she could understand him in her unconscious state. He didn’t know how long the road to recovery would be, but even if it lasted months, he wouldn’t leave her side. Not until she woke up.

She hadn’t given up on waiting for him. He couldn’t give up on her either.

So, with that in mind, he started singing her favorite song while she slept. If only to lift her spirits as she lay there, resting from the hellish ordeal she’d been forced to endure. If only to provide her with comfort as she recovered, to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“Don’t you fret, M’sieur Marius.

I don’t feel any pain.

A little fall of rain

Can hardly hurt me now…”

********************

Okay… first of all, OW.

Her entire throat felt as if she’d drank hot sauce and scorched the muscle tissue within. Something was wrapped around her neck, and the skin around it was itchy and raised. It didn’t feel like the collar…

Her entire body was rigid, too sore to move. The muscles in her legs and shoulders were hurting, but she somehow didn’t feel bothered by it. She felt… comfortable. She was no longer laying on cold, hard tiles; whatever she laid upon now was soft as silk, a cushion was supporting her head, although it marginally felt nicer than the floor. Her hair felt… lighter. Cleaner. The area around her throat felt weird, like it was being pinned shut. What was happening?

Lilium had to fight just to pry her eyes open, being met with the familiarity of a warm glow coming from a desk lamp keeping the place alight. Overhead she spotted a few of the stick-on stars that glowed in the dark. The bed she was occupying was tidy and spotless, dark purple comforter tucked around her being to provide extra warmth.

Lilium winced, coughing slightly, the catch of coppery saliva making her throat ache something fierce. “Wh-wha—“ the attempt to speak failed with her voice dying in a thin raspy hiss.

Someone nearby gasped. It was followed by something clattering to the floor. A rush of footsteps before a presence came at her bedside, a shapeless mass of green and blue blurry in her vision.

“No way…!” He sounded elated. He turned to call out, “Don! DON! Get in here!”

The figure returned. He appeared to be smiling. “Hey, you’re finally awake! You had us all worried!”

“Lee…?” Lilium coughed on the name that was lost on her tongue. Man, it was hard to talk. Eating sandpaper was probably better than the rough gravelly feeling of her throat.

“Take it easy,” Leo cautioned with the same gentle tone in his voice. “You’ve been out of it for days.”

She blinked at that, baffled. Was she hearing that right? “Days…?”

Leo reached for something she couldn’t see. He came back with a small glass of water, gaze kind but encouraging. “I know you’re probably not up for it but you should drink something. It’ll help.”

Water sounded like nirvana. She allowed the eldest brother to help lift her head up, trying not to aggravate her healing neck. Taking time to savor the clean, reviving taste of the cold drink that cleared the pain in her esophagus. Once she’d had her fill Leo helped her lay back down, the pounding in her head too terribly strong but her throat no longer stinging. “Wh-what… h-happ-end?”

Leo frowned with sympathy. “You’ve been through a lot. We got you away from Karai, don’t worry. Although you’re going to be recovering from your wounds for a while.”

“Th-that’s… nothing new,” she rasped, hating how scraggly she sounded. “Is… Is Do-nnie…?”

“He’s okay.” Leo assured her. “He’s fine. He’s been waiting for you to wake up.”

He has? She thought with worry. Now she just felt guilty. He’d already been through enough, being roughed up by Karai too. He shouldn’t have wasted all that time on me… “Do y-you know… wh-where he is n-now?”

As it turned out they wouldn’t have to wait long. Suddenly the doorway was filled with three other turtles, Lilium spotted Raph and Mikey in the forefront with…

Donnie— who was unharmed, the only signs of his rough treatment being the fading bruises on his arms— standing breathlessly amongst the trio, a screwdriver hanging limp in his hand, whatever he’d been working on forgotten.

Their eyes locked. His breath hitched in his throat. Lilium couldn’t help the blurring of her own gaze as tears prickled her vision, a shaky grin on her face. “Don-nie…”

In one moment he was at the doorway, in the next he’d moved effortlessly to her side, screwdriver clattering to the ground. His hands found hers, gripping them in both of his, holding them to his plastron with eyes that looked glassy under the light, everyone else behind them forgotten. The smile that took root on his lips was filled with warmth, full of nothing but affection and relief.

Finally, he spoke. “Hi.”

Lilium couldn’t help the tears that trickled down her face. “Hi.”

She couldn’t really explain the emotions that spread across his features; a soft chuckle escaped him. He brought a hand to her face, his thumb brushing across her cheek. Gently he rested his brow against her own, content on staying where he was, shoulders shaking slightly to contain the sobs he struggled to stifle. He was doing a better job than she was at keeping it together.

“You’re… y-you’re okay?” Lilium murmured, searching his eyes for any further pain.

“I’m fine,” he nodded. “I’m okay. I’m so glad you’re up. I was worried the damage was too severe, you were unresponsive…” his fingers brushed across her temple, moving the hair out of her eyes. “I knew you were in there, I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough—“

“No,” Lilium shook her head pleadingly, taking his face into both her hands. “I’m s-sorry for not be-being strong enough. She g-got what she want-ed…”

“No she didn’t. Karai didn’t get us, we got out. More importantly, she didn’t have the chance to find out I gave her the phony address until we were long gone.” He gently took her hands off his face to better talk to the Siren, never once making the motion to turn away. “It was close but we got you to safety. We…” he hesitated, steadying his words to maintain his stability. “I… thought we’d lost you.”

Lilium frowned. Unconsciously her hand reached up to her throat, where it still hurt to talk. “Ho-how bad was it…?”

“Bad enough.” Donatello answered, and she could tell he didn’t want to elaborate further. “But I was here the whole time. You weren’t alone when you were out of it. Your Mom too. She’s been dropping off Tupperware full of dinners for us, as a thank you for getting you out.”

That wasn’t a surprise, but it still made Lilium giggle. “Wh-what kind of f-food?”

“Pasta, mostly. Last week it was casserole,” Donatello chuckled a little. Unconsciously his fingers reached up to play with her bangs, the habit a welcome distraction. “… I missed you so much.”

Lilium’s cheeks warmed at the soft confession. “I missed you too… I just w-wish she didn’t t-take you there. I hate see-ing you hurt…”

“Hey, look at me,” Donatello gently tipped her head up, meeting her eyes. “I knew what I was getting myself into. If I never let Karai bring me to you, we never would have found her location to get you home. Nothing mattered more to me than getting you out of there,” he offered her a smile. “If I had to make that decision again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Her face flushed, turning warm under his kind gaze. “S-still…” Lilium murmured bashfully. “I’m glad yo-you’re safe, too.”

There was a softness within Donatello’s gaze, still holding her face within his hand with all the affection in the world, keeping her close as though some invisible force would tear her away from him. Nimble fingers caressed her cheek, taking in every detail of Lilium’s face with only his eyes. In the silence between them she raised her head a little, bumping her brow into his as she asked, “W-were y-you… sing-ing?”

His eyes widened, taken aback by this recollection. “You remembered…?”

“I thought… I h-heard you… in th-the deli…” she smiled a little. “A-and you did… it again… one o-other time.” Giggling under her breath, Lilium added, “Kn-knew you… you h-had a p-prett-y voice.”

If it was possible for Donatello’s cheeks to turn darker from the genuine praise, he would have outright turned forest green. “Well… I knew you liked it when I did. Master Splinter said that if you hold a strong connection with someone they can hear you, even in sleep.” He tucked her hair behind her ears, showing off a set of beaming eyes. “Glad it worked.”

Lilium grinned, cheeks tinting a shade of pink. “C-could y-you… sing again?”

Donatello couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Any requests?”

“Les Mis?” She chirped. “O-only if y-you want to…”

“I’ll take an educated guess on which song you have in mind.”

“Am I r-reall-y that predictable?”

“No. I just know what you like.”

*****************

And there ya go! If you want some trivia on Lilium I’d be happy to share! Thanks for reading!

@queen-with-the-quill @tending-the-hearth @figuringitoutasigoalong @wasted-and-ready

[taintedlxve]

Hey all

I'd like to apologize for the way I've behaved for the past few months. If you never read my vents this doesn't really pertain to you so feel free to keep scrolling.

My hiatus on this blog will prolly last for a good while longer and probably include my sfw blog too since try as I might I can't make myself do anything there rn.

I've been, until recently, the victim of several really abusive and scary relationships over the course of years of my life basically since I've moved out and speaking out about the way I've been treated often came with social consequences so I've often felt forced to let things go before I was ready to.

This isn't to excuse the quite frankly unhinged way I've been obsessing over a single person on dash for like months even though it was clear people were uncomfortable but to explain why it went on for so long and why I felt so desperate to be heard.

I just felt like another person I trusted had gotten away with abusing me and it was just rotting me from inside out, and I felt the need to vomit it where people could see it until I could feel some external vindication.

Unfortunately the fact I wasn't completely clear why I was so upset and just kind of slinging snippets of vent out into the ether allowed the subject of my venting to conveniently conflate specific comments from those vents with a message I sent afterwards to paint me as a psychotic bitch who evaded a block to curse her out (which to be clear, didn't happen. I still have a copy of the message sent.)

This combined with the lack of remorse in the post mentioned solidifies for me that I want nothing to do with this person but frankly It's a post that wouldn't exist if I hadn't simply confided in my friends instead of feeling the need to vomit my trauma out in the open.

It hurts to see people imply I was 'leaving things out' but when I'm doing nothing but airing out random unfettered anger I can't exactly blame them.

I'm sorry being so messy, and while I don't think anything I said in that vent was untrue I regret writing it or not at least deleting it like I do most of my vents.

I'm gonna continue to stay off until I feel like I conduct myself normally around people I have issues with and I hope I haven't damaged my relationship with any of you with my behavior.

[thesmallmeggles]

*clears throat*

Revised 🟣Violet🟣 × 🍍Zanzo🍍 Lore

In light of new development that came about during RP, I felt it was necessary to create a more concrete story summary to follow.

As a heads up, it's a bummer. CW: Toxic Relationship (Better safe than sorry even if it might not apply)

👇Under the Line Break as per usual👇

Refresher: Violet and Zanzo were friends. :) They first met as cashier and customer, and started hanging out more after Violet got ditched by her at the time boyfriend at a convention.

(Z: "Hey, don't be upset about that clown. Hang out with some cool people instead!")

When Kale takes over Vandelay, he promotes Zanzo, which results in dropped communication with Violet because of growing busyness.

Which brings us to...

Romance Phase One (Pre Canon)

As it turns out, both people's feelings evolved into something more than platonic. (Violet crushed on Zanzo first, but she never said anything because it'd be awkward. Zanzo didn't feel anything romantic towards Violet until this point.)

However, there were three big stumbling blocks:

1. Working at Kale Era Vandelay Technologies has brought out the worst in Zanzo

2. Violet and Zanzo both have residual traumas that neither have worked through yet which affects how they communicate with each other. (Violet has next to no boundaries, Zanzo tramples over them, they both have poor self esteem)

3. 🧜‍♀️Caramel Roscoe🧜‍♀️, Violet's "friend" and roommate, actively sabotages their relationship because she's mad that this anime loving loser stole her favorite punching bag best friend. (Similar to Zanzo and Violet, she also has issues, but is less inclined to self improvement or recognize that she needs to do so in the first place)

Some Notable Events

In the beginning, Zanzo learns through the grapevine that Violet moved to the island, but instead of contacting her as himself, he pranks her by catfishing. When Violet meets up with him, she's more confused than amused. (This incident also kickstarts Mel's dislike of Zanzo.)

When Mel's actions grow too extreme, Violet moves in with Zanzo

Violet injures Zanzo during a sparring match. (He was teaching her how to parry and she struggled to grasp it. Emotions were high.) When Violet attempts to apologize, he rebuffs her

A month or so later, Violet witnesses Zanzo recalibrating SPECTRA on Roxanne. Basically the final straw leading to break up. (She also gets busted by Kale.)

Zanzo decides the most humane method of handling the situation is erasing Violet's memories with this machine he built. It only seems to work because most of Violet's early Vandelay Island memories are stress induced blurs + she's acting (theater kid)

After the break up, Caramel harasses Zanzo, which includes submitting falsified behavioral reports to HR under Violet's name. (But because this is the Kale Era, nothing comes of it.)

Romance Phase Two (Post Canon)

I've explained in an earlier post how Zanzo and Violet reunited, but to summarize: it was completely by chance several months past.

Zanzo sees this as an opportunity to be a better boyfriend this time around. He... kind of succeeds.

Violet is conflicted. She's relieved that her friend's alive but past pain and current guilt prevents her from fully connecting.

They're currently separated again and working on self discovery. (Zanzo's having a harder time with it.)

Some Notable Events

A lot of Zanzo centered schenagians - getting into fights, kissing dudes, that kind of thing. Violet isn't thrilled about any of this.

Zanzo retrieves 💓Shiruko💓 (D0K1-D0K1/Zanzo's Robot GF) from the old labs to supplement the lack of affection he's getting from Violet. This ends in disaster. (Shiruko is mostly fine- she has free will and a girlfriend now.)

Zanzo confesses about the memory erasure in the break-up, believing that Violet didn't know about it. (He had ordered a VA-SER to do the deed.)

A couple instances of Zanzo giving anonymous gifts to Violet post break up - first one was a data share of Phase One photos + videos (gift of memories), second were wigs and outfits for a pair of vandalized (Mel's doing) custom dolls.

Because HR is back in business, they conduct an investigation into the reports and sus out Mel. She gets criminally charged and Violet cuts off ties with her. (Some friends helped Violet find another place to stay in the meantime. Though Mel ends up moving out of their apartment while Violet is away.) She still goes out of her way to harass the pair.

Under the assumption that Zanzo plans to make an AI clone of her (as if one robot GF weren't enough), Violet confronts him in person to confess that she faked amnesia. Her reasoning being: "okay, this behavior is concerning. I need to come clean about the amnesia thing so he can drop this rose-eyed view of me and move on with his life." Yeah... 😥 This plan didn't work out. (And Violet moved on with this plan knowing that- like, girl.)

The Million Dollar Question: Will/Should They Get Back Together?

Honestly, I'm not sure. 😕

If Mel weren't involved, things might have turned out better between them. Even without her, Violet and Zanzo need to get their acts together for both of their sakes

[mxrp-official-steve]

Hi I am loathe to send anything complainty bc I'm sure you get it literally all the time. And I understand hex's situation is less than ideal rn so I'm definitely not saying like 'hey F y'all go faster'. I just want to express frustration in that we were told there's be frequency in updates on MXRP and its state. But there's been... Like... One. One update in 5 months (MAYBE 2) and they've both been about the logs or the original update we got 5 months ago.

Again I'm not demanding a rush, I understand the situation at present, but it's been really frustrating to just haaaave nothing. No idea where the mxrp code rests at current, no idea at all what's happening with it ever. Dreambubble isn't an option personally for my own reasons which is fine, but the lack of any communication for the past few months feels rough. Anyone who even asks what's up is just pointed at the FAQ which gives no more than it did 5 months ago.

I really am just hoping you can acknowledge this in some way, shape, or form, because it's not just me this comes from. It's a voice of many, I think I just am the first to crack and want to say something as directly as an anon message can be. Please again understand, I'm not demanding a rush or saying anything like that. Just frustrated with the sub-zero updates that we were promised.

Oh I have no doubt that this is the voice of many- the issue is I don't really have like... an update to give. And that's kind of kept my mouth shut these last few months.

The parp rebuild is a one-person show right now, just Hex making it in their increasingly sparse free time. The reason why things haven't been moving is because Hex has a really, really bad financial situation right now, and i refuse to pressure them to work on the site when it's leagues more important that they find stable work so they can feed themselves and have a roof over their head (i've even given them 100% of the patreon money a few times at this point, and likely will in the future).

I teased this in the server already, but this is part of why we're opening an MxRP merch store, and why we're probably gonna open it before the site is back up. It's also why, and you can nudge Hex, TT, and Kon about this if you dont believe me, I will receive not one cent of the profits until MxRP is back up and running, and my cut will be going to Hex. The more stable they are, the faster parp comes back up. Simple as.

As it stands, dev on newerparp has halted. I completely understand if this makes you unsubscribe from the patreon- I probably would too at this point. But I'm not going to pressure someone who's doing this basically for free (the most we ever made off the patreon, post-split, was like 70$ each) to prioritize MxRP over their own personal health and safety.

There's probably like, an alternate timeline where AWS wasn't nightmarishly expensive to host this rickety bridge on where she's still up on there, but "hey can we get this patreon to 700-ish bucks a month minimum like right now guys so I can put her back up on AWS in the meantime" is a genuinely insane thing for me to ask. That's ridiculous. But as it stands, there is no update.

I'm real sorry for the silence, y'all. You're right to be upset with me, I just didn't want the monthy news to be "No news, still down" like, several times in a row.

[fuckhouse2theelectricboogaloo]

I was wondering or not to send this in: but whoever needs to hear this rn is for them tbh. As I didn't have to say shit about this clown to begin with. Anyone who believed his rumor about me still after it came out of all his bs is probably actually an inept fucking slug at that point as much as he is, but I put everything to do my part for the people he hurt and he dragged my ass into it. So to begin? Knowing how spiteful Shep is? I have realized going through my archive: that about 10 months later, that I had made a post I was less active/busy, but that somehow gave him the idea I was gone. I found this mostly to cover any loose ends to the story, but also realized how pathetic he really is. Bc during this time, I had completely forgotten Shep, I was talking with friends, my gf, rping and doing my hobbies and loving life. And that's where the rumor of me being a pedophile started from him in the vent chat and them calling me a nonbeliever and nursing a grudge that extremely for 10 months. This rumor never came back to me until everything exploded, bc he insisted to his circles it be a block and move on and tell no one as he knew I wouldn't have taken it lying down and the fact Shep is spineless to confrontation, I know from us talking that he is. And then never showing evidence and it was that lack of evidence even after being asked I believe if I remember from Star? Is really what made her start catching on among other things.

Yet Shep was that assmad that I found them weird, that nicely I told them it was a lot but internally I thought: even with knowing my gf for 4 years, I found him that insufferable but forgettable and if he talked like this to anyone else? I imagined he had little friends tbh, I actually felt sorry for him to some degree because I couldn't tolerate him even when handling him with 'kid gloves' bc of how much of a little bitch he was and wouldn't calm down and stfu even after being patient with him for an hour bc he wanted empathy in reality. We wouldn't have made it past the first convo if not for that and his past close friend relations to my gf which he USED to get me to trust him so I'd tolerate him more. I also didn't appreciate their subtle flirting I've come to realize they weaseled in the convos (I thought he was just weird, I didn't realize that was supposed to be flirting or getting us to bond or some shit) or weird meltdowns in the week that we knew each other.

So doing all of this after being blocked: if that is their response to me? How they feel about everything and everyone else is probably driving them up the wall. They are probably having meltdowns and crying and I know when it first started they probably did bc I know how much of a little bitch they are when confronted. They'd crumple to me in convos when I told them: 'You're acting weird again. Stop it. o: ' . It took me a total of several hours our first convo when we JUST met to calm them down until I told them to knock it off, they were being weird and that quickly clammed it. In response the funniest thing that made me first notice it was them saying: 'maybe we shouldn't talk.' Me: 'Okay let's stop talking then and block each other.' Them: 'No wait.' Essentially is how that convo went bc again, just trying to be pathetic and a sad loser to get empathy. So Shep if you're reading this bc I know you will from how much you read my blog to find when I was 'gone' but not really? You're not slick, you're not smart, you're obsessed with anything or anyone you want or dislike including blogs like Fuckhouse or ppl you once knew like me even for just a week or so. Then throw a whole ass toddler tantrum when you don't get your way or nurse a grudge for nearly a year bc I almost think you took what happened as rejection from me, but I can't confirm that other than at least as a friend. It's the only way to explain why tf you acted the way you have and how I've seen you be a sex pest to trans fem ppl or kids that let you in though but in general are a sex pest and don't take no for an answer unless it damages your image. But the only thing I'll give you credit for is being decently 'ok' at preying upon ppl's kindness and inexperience to manipulate them the short term. No one thinks you're a mastermind, bc I thought you were fucking stupid when we met, but now I know you're even dumber thinking you could go behind my gf's back, my back when both of us thought you were a friend to both of us even if I didn't want to talk to you. And that if you had just stfu? I wouldn't be involved in this or be aware of what was happening and neither would my gf who btw, was actually angry and thought you were disgusting for doing that all that time when first meeting her to the now. And tbh I'm glad it hurt when I saw your ass groveling to a literal child, bc Shep you don't give a fuck unless it's your own pain because that's all you understand or care about.

Posting as is

[orchestrated-serirei]

SeriRei Week Day 3: Love Languages (900 words)

Decided to change it up for today and write about them instead!

(I don't typically write and post it so I hope this formatting is okay lol and it's 4:27am sorry for any grammar or tense inconsistencies)

Reigen: Words of affirmation/acts of service

Serizawa: physical touch/quality time

Hope y'all like it~

Anyone that’s been around Reigen for any period of time will know that the man has quite a way with his words. Most of the time, he can talk his way out of any situation– which is a handy skill to have when dealing with all sorts of people in and out of the office. What actual psychic power he was lacking in, was made up for by the power his of words. 

A part of Reigen was grateful that he could be eloquent when he needed to be, but he knew more than anyone else that his words could and did cause harm to the people he cares about. This was a side of himself that Reigen hated, but being completely transparent with his feelings and being genuine through words is something that doesn’t come naturally to him. 

Reigen does his best not to hide behind his words as much as he’s gotten used to doing– but he finds that it’s easier for him to show someone that he cares for them by showing up and supporting them from behind. 

Before Reigen and Serizawa officially got together, they had spent several nights having conversations over drinks and ramen. After one too many lemon sours one night, their topic of discussion eventually devolved into Reigen briefly opening up to Serizawa about how he hated the side of himself that found it difficult to be honest and how he hurt Mob in the past. 

Ever since Serizawa started working at Spirits & Such, he had observed that Reigen wasn’t always the most truthful. He could also only recall at least one other time where Reigen unexpectedly confided in him, so hearing him do it again really caught Serizawa off guard.

Just as Reigen was about to move on after taking another swig of his drink, Serizawa piped up.

“Reigen, I know it’s not always easy for you, but I can see that you’re doing your best to change.”

He paused and stared at his drink before continuing. 

“Even if it doesn’t always work out, I know that you have the best intentions in mind, especially for the people you care about. I’m sure that Shigeo-kun can see that as well.” 

Serizawa finally breaks away from staring at his drink to finally turn to Reigen– who was now extremely teary-eyed and doing his absolute best to hold it all in. 

Maybe it was the lemon sours, or Serizawa’s genuine words of reassurance, or maybe it was both that got Reigen choked up; but whichever one it was, Reigen learned that it actually felt really nice to hear that he was doing something right.

— — — — — — — — — —

It had been about 5 months since Reigen and Serizawa started dating each other. Despite their hectic schedules, the pair made it a point to set aside time every weekend to spend at least a day or a couple of hours together uninterrupted. 

During this particular weekend, the couple decided to try out a new co-op game that had been released the day before. Reigen wasn’t much of a gamer in comparison to his partner, but he knew how much trying this game out together meant for Serizawa, so he gladly agreed to it. 

On the way home with the game in tow, Serizawa passed by a burger place that had recently just opened up. He figured it would be a perfect surprise for Reigen tonight, especially since he had mentioned wanting to try it out a few days prior. 

Eventually 6 pm rolls around.

“Taka should be here any minute.” Serizawa mutters to himself. 

As if right on cue, Reigen rings the buzzer to Serizawa’s unit. 

After greeting each other with an embrace and a short but sweet kiss, Serizawa invites Reigen to sit down on the couch. “Before we start anything, I figured you’d be hungry so I got you something.” 

Serizawa pulls out the bag filled with the burger and fries from behind his kitchen countertop. In an instant Reigen beams, gasping loudly and practically bolting over to where Serizawa was standing. “Tsuya! OH MY GOD YOU REMEMBERED.”  Reigen wraps his arms around his boyfriend before thanking him verbally and with another kiss. 

Once dinner had been consumed, they made their way back to the couch to start the game. A few minutes into playing, Reigen took the chance to snuggle into Serizawa’s side even more, resting his head in between Serizawa’s neck and shoulders. 

In turn, Serizawa pauses the game and re-adjusts himself and Reigen. He wraps an arm around Reigen and pulls him in even closer, fully enjoying the warmth between them. Serizawa then plants a kiss on Reigen’s temple and smiles at his partner warmly. “You make me feel so loved, thank you for everything.” 

Reigen’s face immediately flushes and for a moment, he is at a loss for words. Serizawa has been the only one so far to make Reigen forget how to talk at times with his sincerity– not that Reigen’s complaining. 

He regains composure and manages to respond. “I feel the same way, thanks Tsuya.” 

He smiles back at Serizawa, who’s internally melting at the sight of his boyfriend still getting flustered even after all this time.

“So how ‘bout that game? I wanna see what they’ve got in store for us. I was starting to get invested.” 

Serizawa lets out a small chuckle. “Alright, alright I’ll unpause now.”  

[ghostwise]

Self-Rec Tag Game 🌹

Rules: share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.) Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made.

Tagged by @palipunk and @isayashai thank you sm ;v; 💞 I will tag @s1ithers @coldshrugs @arcann @vlwv @ruushes if you like!

Something you absolutely adore:

Four Little Crows off to Meet the Maker :: This is chapter 1 of my Antivan long-fic, Quinta de Talpa, and it sets up Zevran and Hamal's quest to oppose the Crows while also serving as a 'marriage proposal' fic. I think it's a punchy start to a really long project, and I adore it! It motivates me to continue. :)

The door to their room opened before he could knock, and Hamal looked at him, brow furrowed, eyes heavy with lack of sleep. In one quick sweep, he took in the blood-stained clothes. Zevran shook his head. He pushed his way in.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I may have… underestimated things.”

2. Something that was challenging to create:

For Suffering is Such a Part :: AO3 :: This is the first long-fic I finished, and it took me years to complete. I found it incredibly daunting to work on anything longer than 1k, but I was deeply attached to the story and couldn't get it out of my head; I dedicated myself to completing it for several months after picking up an old draft. It's set during the Nature of the Beast quest in Origins. I uh still think about it a lot o_ o;

“My! Aren’t you a poet!” Zevran exclaimed, laughing into his wrist. “Am I just a hunk of meat to you?” Grinning broadly at him now, Hamal settled down on one knee, amid beams of sunlight. “Vhenan, to me you are the spring thaw, and all that comes with it.” Zevran looked at him. He blushed to the tips of his ears. He would definitely have to think of sweet things to tell Hamal in revenge—but he was far more poetic in Antivan, and had been caught off guard, so for now he acquiesced. “The things you say,” he told him softly. “Fine, you win. I’m a spring thaw.”

3. Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably):

The Reading Stone :: AO3 :: I love writing silly banter, but I often worry it goes too corny. I fear making anything too tonally dissonant. With this one I just had fun with it, and wrote some ensemble goofiness in Orzammar. :)

“And as I said, there is no need,” Hamal retorts. “You all sound like Ashalle. I can get by just fine without glasses.”

“Not if we go by all those bruises you’ve collected, walking into corners,” Alistair tuts. “How do you manage in a fight?”

“An enemy is just a big shape. I simply hit it until it stops moving!”

“Maker…”

4. Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.):

All That Matters is That You've Kept on Living :: AO3 :: This was a sweet short piece between Zevran and Isabela. But it felt unpolished and I almost didn't post it! The response was very positive, I was happily surprised. I still feel I can expand on it. Maybe one day. :)They deserve so much love, two of my favorite characters.

Yanking her legs back she tucks them beneath herself and tackles him with a hug, affectionate but very much exasperated.

“You talk about your husband too much, Zevran! No one will ever want to sleep with you!”

Zevran draws in a sharp breath, then he collapses into laughter.

5. Something you want other people to see:

Not a Homecoming, But Something Like It :: AO3 :: Another fic set in Antiva. This one comes very close to being part of QDT, but ultimately it is able to stand alone. Adelmar is mentioned in FSISAP, too, but only through flashbacks. She's an important part of my extended worldstate, as she helps Zevran heal past traumas, and vice versa (she was a prostitute at the brothel he was born in).

“I’m so glad you’re doing well. So tell me,” she scoots closer and looks at him eagerly, “What sort of life did you have, after you were adopted?”

“Adopted?”

By the kitchen counter, Hamal catches the subtle edge in Zevran’s tone. He pauses, holding the knife in his hand as a lull falls over the kitchen table, but he doesn’t know enough Antivan to guess what’s happened.

What’s happened is this: Zevran and Adelmar came from the same place, and know enough about that life to instantly understand that a lie has been told.

“Oh,” Adelmar breathes after a moment. “You… you weren’t adopted.”

Zevran lets out a laugh. It’s his ‘stalling’ laugh, and now Hamal is looking over, arms crossed, searching his face for clues.

“I was not adopted,” he says.

[forgottenyear]

[tw: CSA, this does not end well, sorry]

[for your own safety, maybe do not read this one

i am only posting because i will delte it and erase the memoryotherwise[

--

In my ongoing avoidance of a certain subject that I keep bringing up, I will write about agoraphobia instead [do not believe it], since it has come up several times in the last day, and my filters have better sense than I do and are still sleeping. (I got maybe two hours of sleep.)

Today’s agoraphobia danger is low. In the past, it has been so extreme that I could barely contain my panic when someone stood talking between me and my bedroom.

I have had so many appointments over the last few months that I am desensitized.

Okay, that is all I have. Next.

--

Last night’s discovery, that everyone was so certain we were gay that they assumed our years-long heterosexual relationship with the girlfriend was a platonic friendship, is still surprising. Still more surprising that we never pieced it together before.

The whole situation with the mother visiting overnight has always been confusing but would not be in this new light.

My best friend in my life and I had a platonic friendship that everyone just assumed was sexual (hetero). My friend and employer and I had a similar platonic friendship. I also had a platonic friendship that my partner assumed was sexual (and also assumed was hetero). There were so many men, at that time, guarding against me moving in on their women that I began to joke that if I was getting it as often as everyone suspected I was, maybe I would not have started going blind (I am not) (I really hope I am not) (going blind, I mean, although getting it often would probably be far more surprising).

I have written that I go about friendships wrong, and I guess everyone assumes I am making moves. We have consented to sex with only four people in the life of this body (although two were never brought to completion because of a cruel joke of an allergy).

--

All roads lead back to the horrible subject.

I am not hypersexual. Not the way so many people appear to have seen me. Those who would act only with my consent have mostly all been disappointed by my cluelessness. My self-image is that no one would want me, and I have been disappointed by my cluelessness too often, when people have as much as said they wished I had made a move before the moment had passed.

Those with whom I have been sexual have made the moves that I do not. (both consensual and non-)

But so many people think (or used to think) I am always dtf.

This leads to the question, was the appearance of hypersexuality (and precociousness) a result of the way we were abused during development?

For reasons I hope are obvious, I am not into the domination and discipline thing from either side of that particular coin. I cannot do even the milder playfully rough stuff. I cannot function in a power imbalance. Which makes it all the more difficult to deal with the thought that I tend always to be the follower. I worry about what others assume about me. About my meekness or slowness and how that may coincide with my appearance of being dtf, to give others the impression that I want to be dominated.

--

I think, after what I was able to write before I wandered into the tangent of discovery, last night, that there are enough surrounding memories that lack purpose if the horrible thing I am not thinking about happened. I have not approached this subject from this angle, or not successfully before last night.

The most telling is the lie for which we were punished – a lie that a young child should not know to tell. (I do not know exactly what the lie was, but only that we were punished for it.)

We did have an issue with keeping secrets. The concept took a long while to sink in. This may be why the parents needed to assassinate our character so thoroughly. To punish us so severely for lying.

This may also be why the one form of abuse was replaced by the other. That it was too dangerous to continue the first, and too dangerous to allow us to develop any degree of self-confidence thereafter.

--

When the father died, I was surprised that conservative propaganda was still being forwarded from the parents’ email to mine. Only then did I realize it had been coming from the mother all along.

The most severe beatings came from the father. But the father was mostly away with work, so the most frequent beatings came from the mother. It was the same for neglect and emotional abuse.

I have a memory of an incident with the mother when we were sixteen. We were told this was medically necessary because we were recovering from chicken pox. That she needed to take our temperature a certain way, but there was more to the act than was necessary. We have assumed that our perceptions were distorted because that was around the time we matured. We were assured this was medically necessary, and it is not something I am in the habit of questioning. To suggest this was abuse is to deserve punishment for lying.

--

I need to stop here, about the past. I feel chaotic.

The memory I just wrote about carries the same confusion and feelings of shame for thinking what I just thought, the same as when the (female) doctor pulled my underwear down to check for lumps. The doctor did not ask or explain what they intended to do. It was arguably medically necessary (there was a CAT scan from just four days earlier). But it could have been done without exposing half of the genitals. It could have been done without exposing any.

My first instinct was to defend their actions. My first feelings were confusion and shame.

--

I hate this body so much.

[slayemal-na-nerate]

//Okay, so, obviously it has been... a while, and I'm very sorry for how long I've been away, and how I haven't said anything before now. Posting this on my blog that's been on hiatus the longest, because once I'm back, my hiatus will be completely ended across all accounts.

To summarize my latest disappearance, here's a list of everything that has happened in my life these past few months that has added to my lack of activity here.

Horrid mental health, including my depression being close to, if not, the worst it's ever been

Related to above note, trying to start a time-intensive magnet treatment, since antidepressants don't seem to work, only to have my insurance deny coverage for it for a bunch of nitpicky reasons, leaving me currently waiting to hear back on an appeal the clinic is trying to put through

Two traffic tickets, one of which I'm still waiting to fight in court

My car making horrifying sounds on the way to work one day, leading me to discover that my extended warranty wasn't set up properly and leaving me without reliable transportation for long stretches of time due to miscommunication between the warranty's insurance company and my mechanic while I was waiting for it to be fixed

Work schedule becoming a lot less consistent, with my shifts ranging from everything between opening to closing to miss, making my sleep patterns practically nonexistent

Multiple sicknesses and injuries, including my mom getting covid (she's better now, and I fortunately never caught it) and me currently being out of work due to my knees

Pain and stress from said knees leading me to forget to call in for jury duty the night before my group was asked to be at court the next morning, which, in turn, caused my mental health to spiral for a while, even after successfully attending the two days I was called in for after getting rescheduled the next week

Attempts to finish a backlog of chores consistently slowed down by physical and mental limitations

So, as you can see, my life's been fairly hectic recently. I'm not trying to excuse my absence or lack of communication, but I do think that all of my wonderful writing partners deserve some sort of explanation for where I've been. I never meant to be away this long, and I hope it won't be much longer before I return, but I don't want to potentially give any false hope to anyone, considering I've thought on multiple occasions that I would only be away for one more week.

When I do start writing again, I will be saving all the replies I owe as drafts and waiting until they're finished to post them all at once. Hopefully, this will prevent me from becoming overwhelmed by any responses I might've otherwise gotten in between posts. If you notice that I have not replied to you when those mass posts go out, please let me know, because I have unfortunately noticed that Tumblr has eaten up some or all of my notes on several accounts. Also, don't feel pressured to respond to anything if you no longer wish to write with me. I will do my best to ensure nothing like this ever happens again, but I completely understand if my lack of communication prior to this has shaken any trust some of you may have had in my reliability.

Once again, I am incredibly sorry for this situation and how I've handled it, but I hope to get back to writing with all of you again very soon.

[moon--toon]

Been a while, huh?

So... a lot has happened since my last “update post.” I got a new full-time job that leaves little free time for me to relax, my laptop’s hard drive crashed and I lost all my writing progress, and to the people who read my BatIM fics: I’ve just kinda... lost interest in Bendy in general, to be honest. I thought that maybe once the new game released, my interest would be sparked again, but I guess for me, It’s too little too late.

Basically, this is me saying that all my ongoing fics will have very few updates, if any at all.

Under the cut is a bit more in-depth summaries of my thoughts on each fic I haven’t finished yet, plus a bit more info regarding requests and such. Besides all that, I do hope to post a few more one-shots between fic updates (specifically pokemon fics because I have fallen deep into that game), but given how little free time I have and with the holidays right around the corner, even short fics like these will be sparse.

Lost to Time: I’ve mentioned briefly above that I’ve lost interest in Bendy, and I honestly think it really shows in my writing. I went and re-read my fic from the start, and I think my boredom with writing Bendy really shows in the later chapters, which isn’t fair for you, the readers. You deserve better than short, “post it for the sake of posting” chapters. I still want to finish this fic though, so I’ll update it when I can. It’s just that chapters may take anywhere from months to years, due to my lack of interest or motivation.

Into Shadows: I mentioned before that this work was always a “back burner” project, and that still stands. Especially now that I haven’t played DS or DST in a long while, apparently they completely changed the farming mechanics? Needless to say, I’m very behind on canonical lore and content, which isn’t something I wanted to happen, because I was hoping I could weave the canon in with my own personal ideas. Chapters for this one will likely take a year or more, and there will be a lot more canon-divergence than initially planned.

Half Moon: This one... hoo boy, this one sure was me biting off more than I could chew. If I remember my now-deleted notes correctly, the Main Character wasn’t meant to actually meet Aaravos until many chapters in. I had several chapters planned that would better flesh out our MC’s life, and what I thought it would be like living among humans as a half-elf. This is the one I lost a LOT of progress for, and it’s definitely gonna take a lot of time to work back to where I was. On top of that, I’d also like to wait for more seasons of The Dragon Prince to drop so I get a better understanding of everyone’s characters and how they’ll develop in the show, and how things would change given the events I have planned for this fic. Updates will most likely take years, unfortunately.

I’ll also be deleting all requests I have in my inbox still - if you sent one and I didn’t get to it, I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the time nor energy for requests, nor do I have any plans to open requests again in the near future.

Sorry to everyone who was expecting more from me - honestly, I was too, but this past year was a lot harder on me than I’d hoped. But I’d like to thank everyone who stuck around, because it really means a lot more to me than you’d think, and you’re all why I haven’t just completely thrown in the towel just yet. I still have every single comment and compliment in my inbox that I’ve gotten over the years, and I don’t plan on deleting those. Seeing them really helped motivate me to keep working on the projects I love instead of giving up, and I hope that I’ll be able to write more works worthy of your praise :]

Anyway, you probably won’t see a lot of me for some time after this. I’ll try and write more now that I have a new laptop, but I unfortunately can’t make any promises. Wishing you all the best, though!