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hellfirenacht · 1 month

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Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Summery: You get a new (old) car! That should help you get around Hawkins... right?

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw

Work Count: 2.8 k

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

The junk car that you managed to scrape together a couple hundred dollars for worked well enough for the first two weeks. It had no heating, no radio, the seats were uncomfortable, and there was a lingering scent that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried to clean it, but it drove you to the Hideout and the high school, and to the trailer you now called home.

That was until about a half hour ago when the key snapped in the slot to turn the engine on. Could you ever catch a break? Just fucking once while you were here?

You nearly jumped out of your seat and through the roof of your rust bucket when you heard a tap at the window. You looked to see Eddie, frowning at you and you manually cranked down the window.

“Evenin’ officer. How can I help you?” you asked, trying not to sound as defeated as you felt in that moment.

“This is a no parking zone.” He said, leaning over and resting his arms on the open window. It was late November, and the cold was consistent now, but you hardly noticed with how you’d been just staring out the windshield for the past thirty or so minutes. “Neighbors have been sending in complaints.”

You looked behind you at the neighboring trailers. There were at least 2 that had broken down cars within the block, one that’s been sitting on cinder blocks since before you arrived and one that the neighbor had been working on for a few weeks on and off. Other cars were scattered and parked near their own trailers, haphazardly.

“I’ll be sure to move it.” you said, more dry than intended.

“So why are you sitting out here in your car, staring out into space?” Eddie asked and looked out the way your car was facing, as if trying to see if there was anything interesting in that general direction. There wasn’t.

“Car’s broke.”

“How broke?”

You held up the piece of plastic where your key had been attached to.

“So the car’s fine, but the key broke.” Eddie clarified.

“Is there a difference?” You asked.

“There is. If the car was busted then you’d be fucked out of this rust bucket-”

“Eddie, you can’t say things like that.-” you rubbed your face, now feeling the cold in the contrast to the warmth in your cheeks.

“What I’m saying is I can help.” He continued. “Do you have any tools?”

“Uhhh....”

“Follow me.”

You got out of the car, not bothering to roll the window back up, and followed Eddie back to his trailer across the park. It wasn’t a long walk, you had already come to visit your friend more than a few times since you moved in. You felt a little bad, you found yourself spending time at Eddie’s place more than your own.

“So, what brought you to my end of the park?” you asked as the two of you walked. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost that wouldn’t fully commit to snow or ice.

“Boredom.” he said honestly. “I fried my brain trying to learn this new riff I’ve been working on and I needed a break.”

“New song for the set?” You asked. “It’s about time, I get that one Judas Priest song is a staple, but you’ve beaten it into the ground at this point.”

“Prowler isn’t going anywhere as long as it’s the one song everyone can play consistently.” Eddie protested. “And it’s a new original song I’m working on.”

“That’s actually really cool.” you followed him into his slightly warmer trailer and watched as he opened a tiny closet and pulled out a tool box. “How many original songs do you have?”

“Three and a half.” Eddie said. “We uh.. We started with a song that Ronnie and I wrote together. We don’t play that one anymore, but we’ve got one other song, and this one that I’m working on now.”

“Why don’t you play the first song?” You asked as you followed him back out.

Eddie’s face went stoic for a moment, staring at the dirty green toolbox. “It just didn’t work out.” he finally said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t interested in talking about the song. “The second song is called Litch and if Jeff can commit to learning the vocals then we’d actually be able to play it at the Hideout at some point. They always hesitate on playing our original songs.”

“I’d like to hear your original stuff at some point.” you said, following him back out into the cold.

“If I can get the guys to commit, then you’ll hear it at some point.” Eddie said, leading the way back to your car.

There were times where the two of you couldn’t shut up for five seconds, and then there were times where the silence between the two of you was deafening. Sometimes you felt like you were getting somewhere with your friendship with Eddie, and sometimes... sometimes you wondered if he thought about you at all when you weren’t around.

He came over to see you. Of course he thinks about you. You told yourself, watching the subtle way his hair moved as the two of you walked together.

Eddie hopping into the driver seat of your car and you moved into the passenger side seat next to him, with the toolbox between the two of you. He immediately pulled out some pliers and started messing with the key slot, trying to get the broken bit of metal out.

You focused on his face, watching the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue subtly poked out from between his lips. That was something you noticed he did a lot. His brows were furrowed and from your angle it almost gave him a unibrow until he moved his fringe to the side. It was a little longer than it had been in the past two months and you wondered how often he cut it.

“Shit.” he muttered and leaned back against the seat, his hands resting on the wheel. “Yeah, it’s really jammed in there.”

“So I’m fucked out of this rust bucket?” you asked, frowning.

“I... there’s another option.” Eddie said, staring at the wheel. “It’s not a smart option. It’d be stupid, actually and not really safe. And I’d have to do something not completely within the letter of the law.”

You paused and stared at him. “Don’t you sell special K to high schoolers?”

“That was once and I overcharged them.” Eddie said. “I save that for a different clientele.”

For now. You thought.

“So, what’s the illegal method you have to help me with my car?” you asked.

Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to refuse to look at you. “We can hotwire it.”

“Hotwire... I’m sorry, what?” you looked at him surprised. “You know how to hotwire a car?” Had that been part of the show? You really wished that you had watched season four more than once over a year ago. It didn’t help that the longer you stayed here, the less you seemed to remember. You had your private box and notebook tucked away in your closet under a blanket, but you only pulled that out when you absolutely had to. Paranoia stopped you from reading everything too closely, and the idea of being caught with the things in that box... you shuddered to think about what would happen and how you’d explain yourself.

Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment before he pulled a screwdriver from the toolbox. “It’s up to you. I can hotwire the car and teach you how to start it up like that, or you can call a tow and pay to have the key fixed.”

You thought about the options for a while, you were already eating ramen for most of your meals to pay for the car. The car clearly wasn’t worth more than the couple hundred you had paid for it, and you really were convinced that you’d overpaid for it.

Fuck it.

Eddie wasn’t gentle with the way he ripped open the dashboard and he started pointing out the different wires. You did stop him for a moment to grab a sheet of paper to write it down. Eddie insisted that after you’ve done it once, you wouldn’t need the cheat sheet, but you weren’t going to take any chances.

“So.. how’d you learn to do this?” you asked as he rubbed two wires together, flicking them almost. You didn’t think he’d answer, but then the car suddenly rumbled to life and he actually smiled, looking proud of himself.

“My dad.” Eddie explained. “We didn’t exactly have a traditional relationship growing up. Some kids got birthday parties and trips to the zoo, I got lessons on hotwiring cars and trips to the bar to learn cheap tricks for money. That only lasted until I was about ten when I stopped being small and cute.”

“Shit.” you said, looking at him, trying to decide on how you’re supposed to respond to that lore that was just dropped on you. Eddie didn’t open up often, and this had to be a sign of trust, right? “...Want me to fight your dad?”

Eddie snorted at your question. “I bet my uncle would take you up on that.” he shook his head. “No reason to, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s probably in jail right now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been locked up.”

“Want me to break in and beat him up anyway?” you offered. “I’m sure I could figure it out.”

“Your stealth rolls are shit.” he said.

“You sound like Gareth. What I can or can’t do in D&D is completely different from what I could do in real life.” you said.

“And how exactly do you plan on sneaking in to beat up my dad?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

“I’ll walk in, bat my eyelashes, and ask to visit him. Then when he’s in front of me I start swinging.” you punched your own hand for good measure.

“I’m pretty sure you have to be a relative to visit someone in jail.” Eddie said. “And I’m not exactly itching to see him again, even if you decide to start a fight.”

“Okay, so my car is now on.” you said, on a roll now. “Hear me out, Eddie. You and I go to the courthouse right now and get married- I said hear me out, I’m not done-. I take your last name, use that to get into the prison to visit your dad, and then I can beat him up. I leave, we get divorced, we split with all of our own shit since we don’t have kids or shared property. Easy.”

Eddie rubbed his cheek as he laughed. “Bad idea, you’d be stuck with my last name. Munson doesn’t really get you anywhere in this town.”

“‘Lipton’ isn’t exactly doing me any favors either.” you pointed out. “Go big or go home, Eddie.”

“You are home.” he motioned to the trailer.

You weren’t, and you didn’t think you’d ever be again.

“So, is that a no on marriage?” you asked, leaning close to him with your hand over your heart. You gave him your best pout. “I’m heartbroken.”

“You were only going to marry me to get to my dad.” He gives you a playful shove away from him.

“Yeah, but you’d be a bonus.” you said, blurting out the words without thinking. Ah, fuck, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. Flirting was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. You had made the decision a while ago that it was a bad idea.

If he turned you down, it could be awkward and that could fuck up your chance to save him. If he dated you and it went badly that would make your chances worse.

Focus on the mission, and not the way Eddie sounds when he laughs or how impossibly pretty his eyes are get your shit together and stop that-

“Nice to know you think I’m such a prize.” Eddie said casually, maybe a little too casually for how he usually talked.

“When we divorce you can use that to fuel your music. I look forward to hearing the break-up album.” You tried to smooth your genuine flirting over by committing to the bit.

“If I ever sell out, I’ll write our divorce album.” Eddie replied. “Until then, I’ll stick with singing about Hell and demons and references to my campaigns.”

You don’t know why the idea of him writing songs about his campaigns made your stomach explode with butterflies, but it did. Maybe it was because you were now part of the campaigns and knowing that made you feel special. Like you were actually a part of something, part of him.

Stop that.

“Oh shit, I was actually doing something.” you realized and shook your head. “Right, I wasn’t just sitting here for fun. I had to go get groceries.”

“That would explain why you were sitting in here when I found you.” Eddie agreed. “Do you... Want company?”

He wanted to go grocery shopping with you? That surprised you a lot. It almost felt domestic-

“Yeah, sure.” you agreed, pushing any other thoughts out of your head. “I need you to come anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you showed me how to start the car but you didn’t tell me how to turn it off.”

Eddie laughed and hopped out of the car so that you could scoot back into the driver's seat. He hopped in next to you and it felt like things were swapped now. You had spent weeks in his passenger seat and now he was sitting in yours.

If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you were tempted to slap a BABY ON BOARD sticker on the back of your car.

As you pulled out of the trailer park, Eddie rummaged around his jacket and pulled out a cassette.

“Radio’s broke.” you warned as he stuck the tape in and pushed play. To your surprise, music started playing through the speakers.

“Tape player isn’t.” he said, looking proud of himself. “You can keep this one.”

“Keep...?” you asked. He’d loaned to tapes before, but that was always with the promise you’d return them.

“Yeah, I already have all these songs.” Eddie fidgeted with one of his rings casually. “I thought you might need something to fill the silence. You know, since you’re always coming over to listen to music with me.”

You really did, the quiet of being home alone had been grating on you and you had been spending as much time as you could with Eddie at his place.

“Is this your way of giving me a hint that I’ve overstayed my welcome?” you asked wryly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought.

“No! No, not that.” Eddie said quickly. “No, uh... I just thought you’d like these songs. You told me you liked a few of them.”

“So... you made me a mixtape?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your brain was screaming.

“I had some time to kill, and you were complaining about not having anything to listen to so...” he shrugged.

Maybe you’d ask him to marry you for real. You didn’t even had a tape player, or anything other than your car to listen to it but you didn’t care.

Next up, get a tape player for Emergency Vecna Use. And batteries. All the batteries. You added to the endless list of to-do’s to prepare you for Hawkins High’s Spring Break.

“Thank you.” you said, feeling genuinely touched that he went out of his way to do that for you. “Really. I’ll listen to it until it disintegrates.”

“I’ll make you a new one when that happens.” Eddie promised.

Conversations drifted back into easy territory after that. Hellfire, dungeons and dragons, comics, work. It felt so easy talking to him in these moments when it was just the two of you. It had been so long since that first disastrous hang out session, but somehow he’d still let you keep hanging out.

You wished that things could be different.

For now, you just decided to do what you did best when hanging out alone with him. You pretended that your ID was legitimate, that you were some vague relative of his drug supplier, and that you two could be normal friends, doing normal things.

For now, that would have to be enough.

Reader ==> Learn How to Hotwire a Car was submitted by my Green Heart Anon <3

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

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#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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avatarmerida · 2 years

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Rainy Day Activities

Based on this amazing art by @jovianplanets on twitter. Canon has destroyed me so here’s a little slice of life Huntlow fluff in which literally nothing happens except Hunter and Willow have a nice time together.

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Hunter attempted to lean casually on the doorframe of the girls’ room before knocking on the door. It was open and he could see Willow sitting on her bed playing one of Luz’s old handheld video games, but for some reason he wanted to look cool when she noticed him. He nearly fell over when she looked up and smiled at him and gently put her game to the side to greet him.

“Oh, hi Hunter! Come on in!”

“Pardon my intrusion, but I noticed that when you were in the kitchen earlier, you caught your sweater on the hook on the wall and tore a hole in the shoulder.”

“Aw, look at you, always noticing me.” Willow teased.

The insinuation prompted Hunter to blush but he pressed on. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like me to stitch it up for you? I have a patch that I’ve been saving for you that I think would look nice. If you want.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Hunter,” she said brightly, jumping off the bed to retrieve it from the back of the chair. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” he said. “Plus it looks so nice on you, it would be a shame for you to have to get rid of it.”

Just as she handed him the sweater the lights in the room flickered.

“What was that?” He asked, waiting to see if they’d do it again.

“Oh, it’s probably from the storm,” said Willow. “I heard Camila say the wind is so strong, it might break the power source for the house.”

“Should we do something?” Hunter asked, a touch of panic creeping in his voice. “I mean, Camila isn’t here and she didn’t leave anyone in charge in case an emergency arose so do we have a plan of attack? Or defense? But we can’t allow the power source to be stolen, not when we-.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” said Willow softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. “We’re safe inside. The wind might just turn off the electricity while it rains. We should just be prepared to possibly have the lights off for awhile.”

“Right! I’ll be right back!”

Hunter darted down the hall and Willow just shook her head endearingly. She loved all the projects Hunter had found to keep himself busy lately. He had always taken everything so seriously, and it was nice to see him be serious about something not so serious for a change.

The lights flickered again and Willow could hear Hunter rummaging in the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as quickly as he could, his footsteps echoing with purpose. Willow looked to the window and saw the storm getting worse, grateful she knew the others were at places that were warm and safe. The lights began to dim until finally they went off all together. It wasn’t pitch black so Willow wasn’t too concerned. But suddenly the racket from the kitchen got louder as Hunter ran down the hall and reentered Willow’s door.

“Captain! Are you okay?” He said, concerned as he came back holding several different flashlights under one arm and a broomstick in his hand.

“I’m fine,” she laughed. “But it looks like the powers gonna be off for awhile. Guess you got back just in time.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he smiled, thankful for the validation. “Um, here. You can take these so you can see, I can head back to the basement to start fixing your sweater.”

“Sewing in dim light like this might be bad for your eyes,” said Willow. “And trust me I know a lot about having bad eyes.”

“What? Willow, don’t say that you have beautiful eyes.”

“I meant... cause of the glasses,” she clarified. “But thank you.” She was grateful that in the dim lighting he couldn’t see her blush.

“Right, well anyway I should probably go back downstairs and let you get back to your game.”

"Are you sure? The basement seems like it would be pretty scary with no lights, all by yourself." .

"Psssh what? Me, scared? Not very likely Captain,” said Hunter as he twirled the broomstick. "After everything we've been through this doesn't even come close to scaring me."

A loud crash of lightning illuminated the window to interrupt him. "But, ya know, maybe from a safety perspective it would be beneficial to stick together. If you wanted some company, that is."

"Actually, I do have some scented candles I've been saving that would be nice on a night like tonight," said Willow. "They claim to smell like a garden but I'll be the judge of that."

She gathered her collection of candles from the dresser and followed Hunter down to the basement, he used a flashlight to act as her guide and bodyguard. "Be careful captain, we don’t know the layout of the house well enough to maneuver it at night," he directed, "We need to proceed with caution."

Willow didn’t point out that she could easily summon a light spell to guide them or that it really wasn't all that dark. but she didn’t in favor of holding onto his bicep as he carefully escorted her down the basement stairs. She could tell he didn’t do it because he didn't think she couldn’t do it herself, but because he genuinely enjoyed helping her.

When they reached the basement door, Hunter slowly opened the door as though to ensure that nothing lurked down here in the five minutes he had been away. As Willow set her candles on the table, Hunter ran around the room with his flashlight and discreetly tried to tidy up. The room wasn’t nessy by any means, but something about having Willow in his place made him want to ensure it looked its very vest (even though it was hard to see in the dark). Flapjack and Clover retreated to a special pillow atop the couch and curled up to watch their owners settle in.

“I love rainy days,” murmured Willow softly.

“You do?”

“Yeah, always have,” she said, sitting on the couch. “I think I like them a little bit more here though, the rain sounds nicer and helps the flowers more. Plus, I love how it smells afterward.”

“We should see if they make a candle that smells like that,” said Hunter.

“So what are some of your favorite rainy day activities?” asked Willow. “

“Um… staying inside?”

“Well duh, but like what did you do to pass the time?” she prompted. “Like, my dads always broke out these huge puzzles that we never finished. Or we’d play games or sit in the living room and read together.”

‘Well, I guess I read,” said Hunter. “I’d study, so not that different from any other day really. I really only left the castle for missions, so it didn’t really affect me I guess. I mean, it probably would’ve been less boring if I had someone else there.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m pretty much an expert at making things less boring” said Willow. “First step to a successful rainy day: fort making.”

“‘Fort making?’” repeated Hunter with a gentle chuckle. “But we don’t have any proper supplies.”

“Oh, don’t we?” Willow asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

After a few minutes of gathering supplies, Willow had taken the cushions from the couch and extra pillows from the hall closet to craft walls to drape an old sheet over to create a cozy little fort for them. She placed the flashlight behind them and it felt like they were in their own little world, safe and sound, far away from any problems. They laid on their stomachs, gathering the pillows to place under their elbows

“So now we have our special rainy day space for our rainy day activities,” said Willow, looking over their work proudly, admiring the fact that many of the blankets had patches courtesy of the resident seamstress laying beside Willow.

“So, what’s next Captain?” Hunter asked eagerly.

"Tell me a secret,” said Willow, turning on her back to face the ceiling.

“What?”

“It’s a very important rainy day activity,” said Willow, matter-of-factly as she nodded her head.

"W-what uh kind of secret?'' he said, suddenly nervous.

"Your deepest darkest most mind blowing secret," said Willow dramatically before shifting to a brighter tone. "Or can show me what's in your super secret notebook there."

"What, this?" he said, pointing to the yellow notebook Camila had given him that he had covered in stickers he had gotten from the quarter machine at the store. "This is nothing I mean, I mean it's boring. Trust me it's nothing.":

"Well I'm sure that's not true," said Willow, as she rolled back onto her stomach and traced the outline of the bird sticker with her finger. "But you don't have to show me if you don't want to, I'm just being nosey."

"No uh, it's okay," said Hunter. "Just... don't laugh, okay?"

"Hunter, I would never, "she assured, her voice adopting a tone of melodrama but he knew her sentiment was true and she was attempting to lighten his mood. “Now show me! Show me, show me, show me!” She chanted and he laughed as he timidly opened the book.

On the page he opened to, on one side was a copy of the photo of them and Gus sitting outside wearing wide smiles as they all did a silly pose. On the other side, Hunter had begun recreating the photograph in pencil. It wasn’t an exact copy but Willow could tell Hunter had developed his own unique art style. There was something about the way he drew eyes, partially her eyes, that made her heart do a little flip.

“Hunter, this is really good.”

“Really? I mean, no not really,” he said, holding his breath as she looked on, trying to tell by her face if she was just saying it for his sake. “I mean, it doesn’t even really look like you.”

“Are you kidding? I look so cute!” She said, kicking her legs with glee. “Eda should hire you to redo her wanted posters. How many of these have you done?”

“Um, I just started doing it,” he said sheepishly. “I know it’s not very productive and might not be the best use of time but it helps me clear my head sometimes.”

“Hunter, if you enjoy doing it then it’s not a waste of time,” said Willow, flipping to the next page to admire a drawing of Flapjack.

“Okay, now let me show you something,” said Willow, adjusting the flashlight. “Luz showed me, it’s like a human version of magic. It’s fun because it’s stupid, watch.”

She adjusted the light between them so it shines on the wall and she twisted her fingers in front of it and directed Hunter’s attention to the wall. “They’re shadow puppets. I know we can technically do these back home too, but I guess humans are really into them. Look! I can make a wolf!”

“Woah,” said Hunter, admiring her homemade illusion as she moved it around the wall space.

“Hey there Hunter, how are you today?” Willow had her shadow ask in a high pitched voice as her wolf bounced around. “Let’s howl at the moon and wake the neighborhood!”

Hunter laughed, it really was fun because it was stupid. “Let me try,” he said, looking down at her hands to mimic their placement and soon another world joined Willow’s on the wall. “Like this?”

“Yeah! Two wolves!” Willow laughed as Hunter bounced his wolf beside her. “Awooo!”

Hunter laughed and joined her with his own howl as they had their wolves chase each other. “What else are you supposed to do with them?” he asked.

“Well let’s see they can dance and fight and you can make them kiss, oh la la la,” said Willow as she moved her hand over to Hunter’s to make it look like their shadow wolves were kissing and made a dramatic kissing sound.

“Oh! Oh, huh,” said Hunter nervously, pulling his hand back slightly

“Oh sorry,” she said.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, returning his wolf to the scene. “I just didn’t know our wolves were in love.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” said Willow “We can pretend they’re Camila and Darius and they're getting married.”

“I severely regret telling you about that dream,” said Hunter, rolling his eyes.

“Aw c’mon, admit it would be cute,” said Willow. “Then you and Luz could be siblings.”

“I mean… not really,” said Hunter with a small smile. “Darius isn’t my dad.”

“Dude, he’s a little bit your dad,” said Willow, remembering the way Hunter would talk about him over penstagram. “Even if he wasn’t, Camila would just adopt you and make him your dad. And then he would bring orange slides to our flyer derby practices and yell at the ref anytime you got a penalty.”

“That’s… that sounds kind of nice actually,” said Hunter.

“Right?” laughed Willow, admiring the dreamy look on Hunter’s face. “And you could sing at the wedding.”

“What are you talking about? That wasn’t part of my dream.”

“Oh, I hear you down here, singing little songs while you’re sewing,” recalled Willow fondly. “You sound pretty nice. You’re a man of many talents, Hunter.”

“Oh well, I don’t know about that,” he cleared his throat to try and stop his voice from cracking.

“Yeah, imagine Camila and Darius are getting ready to have their first dance and the hall is surrounded by flowers, I’m thinking he’d pick orchids and she’d do sunflowers and of course I’d help with that, and they walk to the center of the floor into the spotlight and then you hear your voice singing ‘Stitching and sewing and fixing the rips, finding the thread and patching it alllll upppp.’”

“Oh my Titan,” groaned Hunter as he buried his head on the pillow as Willow continued..

“‘A needle, a thread, a thread and a needle working together to get to bring the fabric together.’”

“I don't know what’s worse; the fact that you heard me or the fact that you remembered it.”

“It’s my new favorite song,” said Willow. “When Camila gets her new phone and lets us have the old one, I wanna record you singing it and making it the ringtone. I'm serious.”

“Well, I’d probably have to compose a new piece for the ceremony; Darius would insist on it,” said Hunter, mostly joking. “Something elegant and classy.”

“You can practice at the wolf wedding,” she said, turning her attention back to their wolves and having hers kiss his again.

“Oh! Actually, wolves don’t kiss to show affection,” said Hunter, never needing an excuse to share a fact about wolves. “They huddle together.”

“Oh, like this?” asked Willow as she wrapped her hand around his as though to capture his wolf on the projection on the wall and ended up interlocking their fingers.

“Um.... kinda,” he said, looking at their joined hands and then at the shadow they made. Their silhouettes were now projected on the wall, and Hunter couldn’t help but take comfort in how recognizable Willow’s shadow was. The gentle curve of her nose and the roundness of her face graced the wall and even though he couldn't see the details of her face he could tell she was smiling. “It looks more like your wolf ate mine.”

“Oh, yeah,” laughed Willow. “That’s more of a spider thing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter softly, not attempting to remove his hand from hers. ”Oh here,” he said as he put their thumbs together and spread their fingers out to the sides to try and resemble a spider as the light projected their creation onto the wall. Willow laughed and then brought her other hand up to add to the illusion. In doing so, she leaned on Hunter to maintain her balance and he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Look! Now he has a hat! Spider in a top hat!”

They laughed and Hunter was suddenly aware that he was holding both of Willow’s hands and they were even closer than before. Her face pressed against his for a moment and Hunter didn’t mind the closeness but didn’t know how to process it. How odd, months ago this moment would have been so wasteful in his eyes. What kind of person would ever see any time spent with Willow wasteful? The real waste was how many rainy days he had spent waiting for the rain to stop when he could’ve been making shadows puppets.

“There you guys are!” came Gus’ voice and soon Gus’ head followed as he stuck it though the top of their fort. “Wow, it looks pretty cozy. What’re you two up to in here? Holding hands in the dark, huh?”

“Oh, hey Gus!”

“Gus! Hi! Uh…” Hunter blushed and slowly removed his hand from Willow’s. “You see uh, the power went out and we’re just uh waiting for the rain to stop.”

“Well the rain stopped about half an hour ago and the power was on when I got home,” said Gus mischievously. “But-oh! Are you doing shadow puppets? Scoot over! I wanna make a giraffe!”

Gus entered the rainy day fort and plopped down beside Hunter, pushing him even closer to Willow. They laughed, welcoming Gus to their activity. They stacked their hands to make the giraffe as tall as possible as they fought over who would get to make the mouth. Willow brought her wolf back to settle the argument and Gus pleaded with Hunter to determine who would win in a fight between a giraffe and a wolf.

It was pointless, it was obnoxious, it was stupid. But it was fun because it was stupid.

Hunter wished it would rain more often.

#huntlow #winter toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh #toh #huntlow fanfiction

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alrightbuckaroo · 1 year

Text

I Love You; I Want Us Both To Eat Well

Rating: General Audience | Prompt fill for @tarlosweeklyprompts word of the day, "Sour"

“How do you tell someone you love that they’re not good at something?” Carlos asks Nancy and Mateo. He thought he’d join TK for lunch, but TK’s been in Owen’s office for the better part of a half hour.

“I don’t know,” Mateo shrugs. “Nancy’s good at everything.”

“Aw,” Nancy croons. “Babe, you’re so good at telling the truth.”

“I’m serious, you two.” Carlos brings the conversation back on topic. Mateo and Nancy both stare at him, waiting for him to explain what’s caused him to ask the question in the first place. “Have,” Carlos pauses, trying to pick his words carefully. “Have either of you ever tried TK’s cooking before?”

Mateo and Nancy stare at each other before Nancy responds, “Now that I think about it,”

“I don’t think we have.” At Carlos’ face, Nancy picks up where Mateo’s left off. “I’m assuming that’s a good thing by the look on your face.”

“Well, the precinct is having its annual bake sale this week and TK said he’d help by making a batch of cookies. He made them yesterday while I was out shopping. When I got home, he had me taste one of them, and it was a bit,” Carlos grimaces. “Sour”

“Well what kind of cookies were they?”

“Sugar.” Carlos playfully frowns at the memory. Nancy and Mateo both wince and Carlos nods. “I think he was trying to use lemon zest but they taste the way Pinesol smells.”

“Wait, with as long as you two have been together, you’ve never tried his cooking?”

“I always cooked. "Carlos shrugs. "Not because I felt like I had to. I’ve always just liked to. Some of my favorite memories are cooking with my mom and my sisters.” Carlos sighs. “Anyways, now I’ve got a container full of sour sugar cookies that I don’t think will even make it to the table, let alone sell. What do you think I should do?”

“You’ve gotta eat all the cookies, man.” Mateo says.

“Or,” Nancy interjects. “You could just tell him the truth.”

Carlos considers both options. “Carlos.” Nancy says.

“Fine,” Carlos sighs, “I’ll do the right thing.”

—

“Hey babe,” Carlos greets TK as he walks through the front door. He walks over to Carlos, watching him stir the pasta sauce and kisses him on the cheek.

“How was the rest of your shift?” Carlos asks, bringing the sauce up to taste it. He reaches for the oregano as TK tells him the story about a cat stuck in a tree.

“Seems a bit on the nose,” Carlos jokes and TK chuckles. He continues to tell Carlos that the owner had tried to climb said tree and sprained his wrist when he fell from said tree. “Hm, maybe that’s a little less on the nose.”

“I also had a very interesting conversation with Nancy and Mateo before I left.” TK's tone of voice making it clear what the conversation was about.

Carlos falters slightly, but continues stirring the pasta sauce. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” TK answers, though he doesn’t sound dejected. “Babe,” He reaches for Carlos’ arm, his way of asking Carlos to look at him. “Why didn’t you just tell me that the cookies tasted bad?”

Carlos reaches for the stove knob, lowering the heat of the eye. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I know you put a lot of work into making them, and I didn’t want you to think that any of that was a waste."

“And as thoughtful as that is, what were you going to do with the cookies? Eat them all yourself?” TK asks, sarcastically. Carlos is silent a beat too long for the joke to be funny anymore. “Carlos.”

“I wasn’t going to eat all of them.” Carlos is quick to clarify.

“Baby if they weren’t good you don’t have to any of them.” TK smiles, rubbing his arm up Carlos’ shoulder. “You can tell me when something is bad, it won’t hurt my feelings.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” TK shrugs. “Cooking’s never been a strength for me. Being bounced around so much between mom and dad, takeout kind of became a staple. I guess I never really learned how to. Even when my mom and I used to make cookies, she did a lot of the heavy lifting.”

“Well, I’ll always be happy to cook for you, you know that, right” Carlos explains.

“Of course,” TK smiles softly. “Just thought it’d be nice to return the favor.” He shakes his head. “Anyways, what’s for dinner?"

Carlos stirs the sauce, before bringing a spoonful of the sauce up to TK to taste. “Hm.” TK savors the taste. “Tastes good, babe.” He kisses Carlos on the lip. “But not as good as you.”

—

“Hey babe,” TK announces when he walks into the apartment.

He walks over to the kitchen and sees Carlos wearing an apron and standing in front of the island. It’s covered in an assortment of vegetables, spices, flour and a thick book TK hasn’t seen before. “What’s all this?”

“This,” Carlos waves a hand over everything, “Is what we’ll need for our first day of Carlos’ Cooking Class.”

“Carlos’ Cooking Class?”

“Yeah, name’s not great, but I did just think of it.” He reaches for the book and opens it. “I found this when I was visiting my parents yesterday. It’s the same book my mom used to use when Sofia, Maria and I would cook with her. Figured it would be a good place to start.”

TK stares at Carlos and then back at the stuff laid in front of him. “You’re going to teach me how to cook?”

“I figured now is as good time as any.” Carlos answers, smiling. “It’s never too late to learn.” He hands TK his own apron.

“Babe, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know, but I want to.”

TK smiles because when is Carlos ever not Carlos? He pulls on his own apron before asking. “You really wanna teach me how to cook? It might take me a couple of tries to get it right.”

“Of course I do.” Carlos pulls TK close to him. “I’ll always love an excuse to spend more time with you.”

#figured this one could just be here instead of on ao3 since it's kind just a (long) drabble #hope you enjoyed either way!#twpmarchdailyword #tarlos #tarlos fanfic #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #my writing

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moonzie-writes-stuff · 9 months

Text

(Idea by @thesmileystudio but with the singular change of nOBODY ON THE SHIP KNOWING ABOUT IT)

So there I was, being rudely interrupted from my first dreamless sleep since the Highbrary by a frantic Bastille.

One thing we need to clarify. Don’t wake people up to help them after getting sick. I mean really, that’s extremely counterproductive to everything that any foster parents (or other Smedrys) have ever told me. (Surely there’s no oddly backwards Free Kingdomer logic about THAT, right?)

Of course, this situation might have possibly been different, since usually sickness isn’t caused by proximity to an acclaimed Hushlands landmark.

(No, I’m not kidding. In hindsight, why else would anyone build a giant metal arch in the middle of nowhere? For the “aesthetic?” Yeah, right.)

I’m going to assume you guys need context. I’m also going to assume I’m going to have to be the one to give it.

Fine. Here we go again.

“Why are we flying this way to Nalhalla? Isn’t it the other way?” I asked.

Kaz nodded. “We’re picking up Aydee on the way. I’m sorry, kid, but we’ve got to tell her the news about Attica.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the aircraft after that.

For those of you reading this WITHOUT having read the last five books of my autobiography and Bastille’s sixth installment first of all, why? Why are you here? You don’t even know my name, do you? Those of you in the Hushlands are probably questioning why a prison in France is shaking me awake, aren’t you? Read the other books first, you sicko. Secondly, since of course you’re probably still here despite my admonishing, accept this recap.

My name is Alcatraz Smedry. My family is known for having Talents for stuff like breaking things (me), getting lost (Kaz), and being bad at math (Aydee). Or at least that’s how things used to go, until I accidentally released the Dark Talent upon the world and broke the talents. (You know, as one does under pressure.)

The Librarians control the Hushlands. (lands such as the United States or China) and hide that fact from everyone who’s not in their cult while simultaneously trying to take over the free kingdoms (lands such as Nalhalla, Mokia, etc.) and incorporate them into their ever-growing empire.

The last volume I wrote detailed our infiltration into the Highbrary (Or as Hushlanders might know it, the U.S. Library of Congress) and introduced “Cousin Dif,” aka Biblioden, aka the Scrivener, aka the original head of the Librarians who was supposed to be dead years ago.

He betrayed us all when we least expected it, then sacrificed my father on an altar and shot my grandfather, leaving me the last surviving member of the true Smedry line of Oculators, who can use special glasses to do cool stuff.

So, basically, we failed completely.

Or so I thought.

Bastille’s recently released installment covered a LOT of happenings, including but not limited to Grandpa Smedry somehow managing to get his talent back in time to save his life, (He’s still arriving late to his bullet wound to this day.) gravity breaking across the entire world, (I plead the fifth on that one.) a diplomatic discussion with the Dark Talent itself that ended in the other talents coming back, and me having no choice but to give a little bit of Smedry Talent to everyone in the world.

So if you ever find yourself waking up looking uglier than usual, or tripping over nothing, or putting something in one place and coming back to find it gone, that was probably my fault.

Sorry about that.

“Hey, Kaz? Can we stop for food somewhere?”

“Sure, kid. We’re coming up on St. Louis, so we can find a place there if anyone has any Hushlander currency.”

I had, in fact, procured some from the Highbrary, and I told Kaz so.

“Alright! Lemme just set the detour real quick,” Australia said.

“Nice, I’ve always wanted to see the Gateway Arch,” I said, sitting in the nearest empty chair.

Bastille scoffed. “I don’t understand Hushlanders. Lots of gates have arches. Why is this one so special?”

I shrugged. “Mostly because it’s big and metal, and I think you can go inside it, but that might be a different landmark. I guess we don’t have to see it.”

“Well, if we’re gonna be there anyway, I suppose we can stop by it for a few minutes,” Bastille said, rolling her eyes.

“Actually, if you’re in full armor and the rest of us minus Kaz are in formalwear… if we go somewhere that public, we’re definitely going to attract unwanted attention. We probably shouldn’t stop in a city that big at all,” I rationalized.

Bastille rolled her eyes. “There are extra clothes on this thing for a reason, Smedry. We can make something work.”

“Alright, then. Australia, I’m afraid you’re going to have to hover and let whoever’s coming with me down on the ladder. A giant penguin landing in the middle of the city would be way too noticeable. Speaking of which, who’s coming with me?”

Bastille, Sing, and Kaz volunteered.

“Alrighty, then. I’m going to need some way to keep contact with you guys. Australia, how do you feel about Courier’s Lenses?”

“Um… better than the first time the two of us used them?”

“That’ll work. Australia, you’re gonna have to take everyone’s orders and pass them onto me through the lenses. Can you do that?”

“Um… maybe? Do we have a backup plan?”

I shrugged. “Only if Kaz still has his cell phone.”

Kaz gave me a thumbs up. “Yup! Sure do!”

“Leave it with Australia and there’s our backup plan. Now, I’m still going to be at least acting like I’m using the phone. Hushlanders aren’t exactly… used to lenses, so don’t freak out when you see me on the phone. It’s purely for aesthetic purposes.”

“Okay.”

“Bastille, Sing, and Kaz, you go change into T-shirts and shorts. I’ll be doing the same. I’ll tell you if they’re on wrong when you’re done.”

And so began a somewhat infiltration into St. Louis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we came back together, we found out that Sing had no taste in clothes. At all.

At least Bastille had chosen a fairly normal-looking black tee-shirt with some sarcastic comment on it and a pair of bermuda shorts.

And it turns out Kaz looks pretty good in a sweater vest. (Who knew?)

Sing, however… Well, some things are better illustrated in pictures.

I looked at Sing. “Okay, you know what? Sing, can you just find a plain, white shirt?”

Sing nodded. “Alright!” he said, already running (tripping once) to the room he’d claimed on Penguinator.

“Bastille, that’s perfect. Great job.”

Bastille smirked. “Thanks, Smedry. You don’t look to bad yourself.”

(A/N: If you’re wondering what he’s wearing)

I blushed, quickly changing the subject when Sing came back, wearing, as I’d asked, a white t-shirt.

“Alright, Australia, drop us down there. We can walk from here.”

It was true. There was a Steak ’n’ Shake not too far from the edge of town we were approaching, so I told everyone ahead of time what their options were.

Australia dropped us off, and I put on my Courier’s Lenses as we walked to the Steak ’n’ Shake.

“Alrighty, guys. Check out the menu while I call Australia.” I said, pulling out the cell phone and acting like I was putting in a phone number.

“Hi!” Australia gasped. “OH MY GOSH ITS WORKING SO WELL??? WOW!”

I winced at her volume. “Okay, Australia. Ask everyone whether they want chicken tenders or a burger, and write it down so you can tell me.”

“You got it!” the Courier’s Lenses blinked out as Australia took them off.

Kaz grinned. “The cheeseburger looks pretty good. Also, what are milkshakes?”

I gasped, faux offendedly. “Okay yeah we have to introduce everyone to milkshakes. Wait, Kaz, do you know if anyone with us is lactose intolerant?”

Kaz shook his head. “Nope, nobody on Penguinator is lactose intolerant.”

“Great! Now I just have to-” at that precise moment, Australia’s Couriers Lenses were turned back on. “Nice! Australia, ask around for milkshake orders. They’ve got Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, Banana, Oreo Cookies 'n Cream, Mint Oreo, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Birthday Cake, Cotton Candy, M&M's, Reese's peanut butter cup, Reese's peanut butter, Reese’s chocolate peanut butter, Nutella, Butterfinger, Kit-Kat, and Snickers.”

(A/N: yes I did have to copy and paste the shake menu and delete the calories and ingredient information this hurt me)

Australia dutifully wrote down each flavor and made a saluting motion before turning off her lenses again.

“Alright, guys! Any minute now and we’ll be able to order.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half an hour later, the four of us returned to Penguinator with plenty of fast food for the others before immediately going back down to see the Gateway Arch.

A few minutes in, Sing tripped.

Of course, we made nothing of it.

A few minutes later, the milkshake started to disagree with me.

“Oof. I should NOT have gotten a large.”

Bastille scoffed. “Obviously.”

We came within sight of the arch, and my head began to pound.

Well, that’s not the milkshake, is it, I thought.

My stomach turned as we walked closer, and I found myself suddenly drained of all energy. Where before I’d had the quickest strides out of the team, now I was lagging about two feet behind Kaz, very much in last place.

Needless to say, Bastille noticed. Also needless to say, she decided to make fun of me for it. “You’d better not be falling asleep back there, Smedry,”

“No, m’fine,” I said, although I definitely was feeling a little sleepy.

We were so close; I couldn’t give up now. Bastille was gonna lose her mind when she found out we could, in fact, go inside the thing, up all the way to the top. There were windows up there, I was pretty sure.

She wanted to make fun of me for lagging behind? Well, we’d see how she felt about going ahead of everyone else when we were up six hundred thirty feet in the air.

The world seemed to spin all of a sudden, but on the bright side, we were almost to the ticket center.

“Hey guys! We can go inside it! Let’s go!” Sing exclaimed, pointing at a sign.

Kaz hung back. “I don’t know, guys. Are you sure you wanna go in? I mean, think about Bastille, that’s pretty high up…”

Bastille shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

I gave a small smile that probably looked like a grimace.* “That’s the idea. It’s time I get some teasing ammunition for once.”

Kaz looked at me. “Al, you’re not lookin’ to good. I don’t know if you’d survive up there without passing out.”

“M’fine, Kaz. C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”

We waited in line at the ticket center for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. My legs felt like gelatin, but Sing looked so excited, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna be the one to rob him of this experience.

I inhaled sharply. White-hot pain stabbed through my head, uncannily reminiscent of the headaches I’d get as a child. (I now knew they were a result of Oculatory power building up in me at unhealthy levels.)

“You alright, Smedry? We can’t have you fainting away on us.” Bastille snarked.

“Fine, fine. Just a headache.”

“Drama queen.”

“Okay, Bastille.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Guys! The line’s moved!” Sing said, effectively finishing the argument for us.

I hobbled forward, swaying like one of those inflatable tube men you see in the Hushlands sometimes. (For you Free Kingdomers reading this, think holding a singular cooked noodle vertically and moving your hand back and forth slightly, but upside down and with two smaller noodles attached to the first one.)

Bastille steadied me. “Whoa, there. Don’t go fainting away on me, Smedry.”

I tried to think of a good comeback, but my mind wasn’t working and my vision was fuzzy and when I looked back at Bastille all that came out was, “S’rry.” (Brain-clouding radiation. Obviously.)

I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, perfectly fine, with Bastille shaking me like a child rolling out play-doh.

“Bastille, stop, I’m awake!” I got up and looked around, taking in my surroundings, which seemed to be some sort of makeshift infirmary. “How and when did we get back here?”

“I carried you, idiot.”

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks reddening at the implication that Bastille had been lugging me around like a sack of potatoes back to Penguinator.

I looked back up at Bastille, and immediately received a smack to the face as a reward for my eye contact.

“Ow… what the heck?”

Bastille then proceeded to tackle-hug me back onto the bed. I stiffened.

This is once again a time to tell the women reading this to please give us men a warning before you hug us. We need warning. (You know what, just everyone give people warning in general it doesn’t matter the gender.)

“Alcatraz, please NEVER do that again; Sing said he could feel your pulse slowing down. You could’ve died, Smedry. I…” Bastille got up and paced around the room, stopping at a window. “I can’t lose you.”

I blinked stupidly. “You can’t lose me?” What on earth was that supposed to mean?

Bastille looked down, and I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if her cheeks were genuinely as red as mine. “For one, your entire family would kill me, and for two, the knights would kill me again.”

“So, purely diplomatic, then,” I said, not sure why I was feeling strangely disappointed.

“That, yeah.”

I looked down at the ground, trying to hide the fact that my face was probably tomato red. We were flying closer to St. Louis, and as we approached, I could feel a headache flaring up again. I wobbled back to my bed as spots swam in my vision, and the last thing I remember before passing out was seeing the top of the Gateway Arch through the floor.

I woke up with Australia on the bed next to me, trying to calm down a panicked Sing.

“It’s fine, Sing. It was just a little headache.”

Sing raised an eyebrow. “You said you were really dizzy.”

Australia looked at me and slowly shook her head. “You should be worried about Alcatraz; he passed out again, but he’s awake now. Go interrogate him.”

With my luck, that did the trick, and Sing immediately ran over to (for some bizarre reason) check my vitals.

“Sing, I’m fine now. I don’t know what came over me.”

Sing looked about to cry. “You said you were fine last time and look what happened!”

“Yeah, why are we suddenly fine now?” Australia wondered. “Like, I was REALLY dizzy. Sing, you saw it. I almost fell over.”

“I don’t know, but I think I passed out again when we were over the arch.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, the thing was, like, wiggling and stretching through my lenses. I got a headache just looking at it through them, but when I took ‘em off, it just went away.”

“Huh.”

“I might be crazy, but I think it’s the arch.”

“But if it’s the arch, why were only the two of us affected?”

“Good question.”

We sat there in silence, thinking about why the arch would give an adverse reaction to the two of us specifically.

“Oh,” Australia said, tapping her head like she’d just found out that the most obvious answer was, in fact, the right one.

“What?”

“I think it’s an Oculator thing.”

“Then why would I have passed out while you didn’t?”

“By the first sands, Smedry, isn’t it obvious?” Bastille’s voice came from behind me and I started. I’d forgotten she was there.

“Bastille, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are three different Smedrys in the room right now, so you’re gonna have to learn everyone’s first names at some point.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“Alcatraz…”

“What?”

Bastille then made a noise that sounded uncannily like a horse muffled into a pillow.

“Okay, what’s so obvious, then?”

“It’s because you’re so shattering powerful. I mean, have you ever seen Australia use Courier’s lenses from halfway across the country? On instinct?”

“Uh… no.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, I can confirm I could NEVER.”

“Oh.”

*I know EXACTLY what a good number of the Hushlanders are probably thinking, and you’re thinking of the wrong fast food chain. Go smell some grass, or whatever it is the Hushlands kids say nowadays.

#I am never writing a sickfic from first person pov again #my writing #alcatraz vs the evil librarians #MOTHER HEN SING RIGHTS #Alcatraz Smedry #Australia Smedry #Kazan Smedry #sing sing Smedry #mentioned Leavenworth Smedry #mentioned Attica Smedry

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klopford · 10 months

Text

Convalescence (ch 1)

Eyy so that WIP I posted earlier? First chapter is done! Here it is on AO3 if you prefer to read there!

But also here it is as a post because some people prefer to read these here and it's only 1,843 words right now? (I'll only tag the characters that actually make an appearance in this chapter)

IDK, is this enough space for a jump?

---

“We’re home, my friend! We’re home!”

As the Ragnarok continues its descent and makes the switch from artificial to real gravity, the Warrior of Light’s knees buckle. The crash of her armor against the floor as she collapses gets the attention of everyone on the bridge, and she’s once again surrounded by Scions, with Alphinaud quickly on his knees beside her.

“Katina! Are you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to stand so soon!”

The Paladin gives a halfhearted wave of dismissal from where she lay. “I’m fine…” she mumbles, “…just tired.” She tries to get up again but feels dizzy, placing her head back on the floor and closing her eyes.

Alisaie joins her brother in kneeling beside Katina and puts a hand on her chest to encourage her friend to stay still. “You’re not going anywhere,” she says firmly, “except back to the stretcher and then off to a bed.” She looks up at Estinien and Urianger at the mention of the stretcher, as if to ask the taller and stronger Elezen men to help move the fully armored Highlander Paladin.

Katina gives Alisaie a weak smile. “Says the one who refuses to stay in bed when injured… eep!” She yelps as Estinien carefully picks her up and places her back on the stretcher.

“I’ve never been as injured as you are right now!” Alisaie exclaims

Alphinaud speaks up. “You’ve been close…” he says, but refrains from elaborating as his sister glares at him.

The Paladin smiles at the twins. “Calm down you two,” she says before closing her eyes again, “I don’t think I could go anywhere even if I wanted to...” Her voice grows quieter as she trails off, raising some concern from her friends.

“Are you still with us?” Alphinaud asks as he kneels by the stretcher, looking Katina over for any signs of trouble. She turns her head to his voice, but doesn't respond other than a weak nod before losing consciousness again.

In the background, Thancred is still on the linkpearl with the waiting party in Sharlayan. “We will need a chirurgeon available as soon as we land,” he says.

---

When Katina wakes, she finds herself in a soft bed, stripped of her armor and dressed in a simple linen gown that reaches her knees. As she stretches and stirs, she feels a searing pain in her right hip, and her left foot nudges something.

Alisaie is curled up at the foot of the bed, asleep and trying to take up as little space as possible, but the nudge wakes her and she sits up quickly, blushing. “You're awake! Good!” Her voice rouses Alphinaud, who was asleep in a nearby chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was trampled by a primal...” Katina grumbles. The horrified look on Alphinaud's face tells her this comment may have been in bad taste, remembering Arenvald. “Sorry,” she says quickly. “Where am I?”

“The Sharlayan Infirmary,” Alphinaud answers, yawning as he gets his bearings. “We brought you here as soon as the Ragnarok landed.”

“By 'we,' he means Estinien and Urianger carried your stretcher while the rest of us escorted you,” Alisaie clarifies.

“Where is everyone else?” Katina asks, trying to push herself up onto her elbows but wincing at the pain.

“Thancred, Y'shtola, Urianger, and G'raha are giving their report to the Forum. Estinien is standing guard outside... you've had no small number of admirers and well-wishers wanting to visit and express their gratitude!” Alphinaud explains. “Tataru and Krile have been making sure any 'get well' gifts are delivered to the Annex.” He frowns as he watches Katina struggle to sit up. “You mustn't strain yourself! Please, continue to rest!”

“Here,” Alisaie says as she gets up to offer a hand, assisting Katina into a seated position as Alphinaud reaches behind the bedridden Paladin to prop up a pillow for her to recline against.

“Ah... thanks,” Katina sighs as she's carefully moved to rest against the pillow and headboard, gently touching her right hip to get an estimate of the extent of the injury and gasping in pain at even her own light touch. “Not a very good location to get injured... damn scythe.” Noting the worried looks on the twins' faces, she asks, “How bad is it? Overall? Have the chirurgeons said anything?”

Alphinaud sighs before relaying everything he knows. “You took quite the beating. We did what we could on the Ragnarok , but we didn't have time to remove your armor and do a thorough examination, you were barely hanging on as it was!” He looks somehow disappointed in himself for not being able to do more. “You lost a lot of blood, and the wound on your hip is resisting most attempts at healing. It could be days, if not weeks, before you're allowed out of bed.”

“Honestly, it was a miracle you could even stand up for the brief time you did as we arrived!” Alisaie scolds, clenching her fists and resting them on the edge of the bed as she leans closer. “What did I say about taking better care of yourself?”

Were it any other person, Katina might not appreciate the scolding, but she knows this is Alisaie's way of showing that she cares. “It's alright, it's not like I have much of a choice right now,” she says before looking at Alphinaud. “You said weeks? I sure hope not...”

Their conversation is interrupted by Estinien opening the door and poking his head in. “Ah good, you're awake,” he says, a faint smile on his face. “There's a chirurgeon here to check on you.”

The Azure Dragoon steps aside and a middle aged Hyur walks in, carrying a tray with potions, tea, and a bowl of soup. “Mistress Star, glad to see you up! I just need to do a quick examination and change your dressings, then I have these potions for pain management and blood replenishment, as well as some supper if you feel up for it.” He sets the tray on the bedside table and then turns to the twins with a shooing gesture. “If you wouldn't mind giving my patient some privacy?”

Alphinaud and Alisaie, realizing that the exam would probably expose more of the Warrior of Light than either of them wanted to see, simply nod at the chirurgeon and step outside to wait with Estinien. While they wait, G'raha Tia enters the infirmary and spots everyone outside Katina's door, causing him to rush over with a worried look on his face. “Is she ok?” he asks.

“She's awake now, just being looked over by the healers,” Alisaie explains.

As if on cue, the door opens and the chirurgeon exits. “You can go back in, but let's try to keep the visitors to a minimum. She does need to rest.”

G'raha does not hesitate to go inside and see his friend. Alisaie follows, but Alphinaud lingers outside for a moment. “Estinien? Did you want to visit as well?”

“Room's too crowded,” Estinien grumbles, “You go ahead.” To this, Alphinaud simply shrugs and joins the group inside.

Katina was still sitting up in bed, with the tray that had been brought in now set on her lap. She looks up from idly stirring her soup with a spoon when she hears her friends enter. The twins, she expected already since they were just there, but she beams at the redheaded Miqo'te leading them. “G'raha!”

G'raha immediately moves to Katina's bedside, smiling. “My friend! 'Tis good to see you awake!”

Katina smirks as she remembers saying the same thing to G'raha a few times in the past. “'Tis good to be awake,” she replies, just as he had.

The Miqo'te's ears twitch as he remembers being on the other end of this greeting, and he smiles even wider. “Zenos did not damage your sense of humor then?”

“Oh no,” Katina laughs, “It will take way more than that for me to lose it, Gods willing.” She takes a bite of her soup and swallows, but then pauses for a moment with an unpleasant face.

“Not to your liking?” Alisaie asks, noticing the hesitation.

“It's, uh...” she prods the soup a bit with her spoon as she tries to describe it. “It kinda tastes like Archon Loaf. But in soup form. If that makes sense?”

Alphinaud gives a small chuckle. “When it comes to treating patients, nutrition is far more important than taste. I know you are unaccustomed to Sharlayan cuisine, besides that found at the Last Stand, but it's still very important to make sure you get the nutrients you need to heal.”

“Could use some salt,” Katina grumbles, “or any seasoning at all, really.” She looks up at her friends. “Have you all eaten yet? I don't want to keep you if you need to take care of anything.”

“Alphinaud and I grabbed a bite while we were waiting for you to wake up,” says Alisaie.

G'raha nods, confirming that he too had eaten already. “I stopped at the Last Stand after leaving the Forum. If I had known you'd be up, I would have brought you something. My apologies.”

Alisaie grins, getting an idea. “If you're feeling better tomorrow, perhaps we will bring you lunch? But do try to finish your soup for now. Alphinaud is right, after all.” She turns and gives her brother a look. “Don't let that go to your head, by the way.”

“What? I know I'm...” he trails off and sighs, “never mind.”

Katina laughs at the twins' bickering, and resumes eating her very bland soup.

Alphinaud looks over at G'raha. “So you have finished reporting to the Forum, then?” he asks. “Do you know if the others will be coming over?”

“They've all decided to retire for the evening, but they send their regards and will check in on Katina tomorrow.”

“What time is it, anyway?” Katina asks as she finishes her soup, looking around for a chronometer. “It was daylight when we were landing?”

Alphinaud retrieves a small pocket chronometer from his jacket. “'Tis half a bell past ten in the evening.”

“Gods!” Katina exclaims, “No wonder you two were asleep when I woke up! You should be resting as well!”

Alisaie's face reddens with a slight blush. “We just wanted to make sure you were ok, and that you didn't wake up alone.”

The Paladin smiles. “I'm fine. Well... fine as I can be given the circumstances. I appreciate your concern.” She stretches and covers her mouth as she yawns. “Guess the potions are kicking in.”

G'raha picks up the tray from Katina's lap and sets it on the bedside table. “We should let you rest then,” he says, offering a hand to help her scoot and settle without moving her legs too much. She accepts the assistance, though still winces in pain at certain movements. Eventually, she's laying down once more.

“We'll return tomorrow morning as soon as we are able,” Alphinaud says. “Pleasant dreams, my friend.”

Katina yawns again and waves as her friends depart. “Good night.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv endwalker #endwalker spoilers #alphinaud leveilleur #alisaie leveilleur #g'raha tia #estinien wyrmblood #other scions mentioned #my wol

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neonseperatedau · 1 year

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Preview Snippet - NEON Chapter 30

Back to the usual Gremlin Stay Cat Leon POV, we start the next chapter with a small flashback and I thought, why not share it with you guys? This update is a blast to write and irl work has slowed down a bit, so the complete update will be out by next Friday =) Preview Snippet

Wandering through these tunnels toward our inevitable doom is boring, so in the meantime, we can take some time off and revisit a memory that I had replayed in my head quite a few times ever since I had my involuntary train ride, and this whole mess turned from being awful to terrible. I had moved into the lair like three weeks ago. Concluding a mutant-hunting mission, Raph and I had decided to hit one of the nearby basketball courts while Donnie and Mikey went back to the lair to do each their own thing. Red had scored a three-pointer and I swooped up the ball, devising a counterattack when he out of the blue said: “Thanks for today.” Unsure if this was a tactic to confuse me, I squinted at him and dribbled around the big guy to perform an off-hand throw. “You’re welcome for owning you, now I’m four points in the lead,” I snatched the ball right after it went through the loop. “This isn’t about basketball,” Raph put his hands on his hips, a pose I had seen him do when he scolded the other two, “you didn’t even realize it, do you?” I had no fucking clue, what he was on about. “You mean, how amazing I’m at this human sport?” “I told you it doesn’t have anything to do with that,” his voice grew a little more annoyed. To truly piss this turtle off, I knew at that point, would take a lot more. “Fine, then what is it?” I resigned. Raph went to lean on the iron mesh surrounding the court, I joined him (keeping the basketball in case he wanted to resume the match and lose to me even more.) “When we fought those silverfish today…that was a mess.” “Sure?” I agreed, not caring much about the mutants or any kind of these wanna-be hero missions. “You knew when you cut them, they would multiply and you did it anyway,” he scolded me in a mild tone. “It was funny to chop them up without any consequences…well, any actual consequences,” I corrected myself. Red shook his head. I didn’t feel particularly bad for messing with him. I couldn’t get myself to take any of this very seriously anyway. “But there were consequences, they almost dragged Mikey into a sewage plant,” he clarified and locked eyes with me. “Eh, he was fine,” I returned, growing a tad uneasy under his iron pupils. “Yes,” Raph agreed, “because of you. You were the only one who reacted in time. That’s why I wanted to thank you.” Truth be told, I never knew what to do with compliments I hadn’t anticipated. So instead, I took the ball and attempted to spin it on one finger. A trick, orange had shown me earlier today. Raph continued to stand there and watch my futile first tries. This conversation wasn’t finished yet and it was up to me to accept or reject his gratitude. I much preferred to be offered some money and a handshake when I had made a successful deal with some yokai. What are supposed to do with something as grand as a ‘thank you’? “Can’t let the cook die, I’ve seen you and purple struggling with simple sandwiches, I would choke or starve,” I explained, expecting him to get mad and end this uncomfortably open talk. The big guy didn’t do me that favor. He snatched the ball from me (his reflexes could very much surprise me) and grinned at me with the understanding of someone who knew shit because he observed and took care of those around him full-time. “I don’t think that’s what went through your head. You even cursed the silverfish and their multiplying ability before you used your portal to get Mikey out of there.” Damnit, I hadn’t been aware that he had heard that. “You know, in one of my favorite JJ comics, there’s this saying that reminds me a lot of you,” Raph placed the ball back into my hands, “there’s a special kind of goodness that comes from being bad and still trying to do good.” Back then, I found him helplessly naïve and simple-minded. Reality cannot be easily divided into good and bad, nice and evil. There are different opinions and those naturally clash. And despite all that. I found myself holding on to those words. A special kind of goodness…

#rottmnt separated au #rottmnt au #neon separated au #neon #rottmnt fics #chapter snippet

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titsthedamnseason · 6 months

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to clarify i DO NOT support zionism in any way, shape, or form like at all so this isn’t meant to be a defense for zionists and honestly i could be wrong but i do feel like all the stuff with noah schnapp is extra weird because i’m not sure a lot of actual hardcore zionists would even like what he’s saying? i go to a university with a pretty high jewish population and while obviously i recognize that not every jewish person supports israel, i know a very good number of “zionist and proud” students that i am either friends with (prior to knowing they were zionists. quite frankly maybe even prior to THEM knowing that they are zionists) or just have to interact with because of work and class. and to many people you might see my continued conversations with them as problematic and not at all nuanced which is super fine that’s your choice but personally i have found it really interesting because in the past i’ve been much more of the “politics in a bubble” kind of person where i only care to interact with people that subscribe to my beliefs and avoid others at all costs but i’ve been able to have a lot of really interesting conversations around this issue and speak my piece in very civil settings which i’ve really valued.

anyway, all this is to say that while i haven’t asked (yet), i’m pretty sure the phrase “zionism is sexy” wouldn’t be seen as support to them and might even be considered offensive? like the israel supporters that i DO know take it very seriously and are very convinced in their minds that israel is a victim in this situation and that israelis and jews are facing very real, immediate, and large-scale danger. just to imagine on the flip side if someone was saying “free palestine is sexy” or “supporting palestine is sexy” it would really put a bad taste in my mouth because it’s trivializing something that is such a serious issue/conflict. there’s a time and place for joking / simplifying politics and this international humanitarian crisis is NOT one of them. to summarize, i think noah schnapp sucks from literally all angles and maybe this issue can temporarily unite our divide if we can all just agree to make sure this man never works again and then all go back to hating each other !

#to clarify i DO believe there are american supporters of israel that think noah is amazing and love his silly goofy slogan #but my point is that i feel like it wouldn’t sit well with extremists. but i’m not actually sure like i haven’t really done any digging #mine

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aquietwritingcorner · 1 year

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Collapse and Collaboration

Title: Collapse and Collaboration Day: Whumpuary 2023, Day 5: Natural Disaster/Stabbed/Collapse Word Count: 8417 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Splinter Warning: Injuries, Blood Summary: All Don wanted was an sheet of a metal alloy that had been left years ago at the Y’Lyntian lair. He didn’t think that an earthquake would hit at the exact wrong moment, causing even more collapse to the old lair, and he definitely didn’t anticipate being stabbed by a metal pipe. Good thing he’s got a family that’ll throw all in to rescue one of their own. Notes: Set post-Back to the Sewer. Small appearance of an OC in here. But I needed someone, and when that happens, why not use a character that you’ve had hanging around in your writing for years? ff.net || AO3

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Collapse and Collaboration

“I thought you stripped this place of everything useful years ago, Don,” Leo said as he stood in the middle of the Y’Lyntian outpost that had once been their home. “You haven’t wanted to come back here since we moved in at the pumping station.”

“No, I stripped this place of everything useful that we could transport,” Donatello clarified as he dug through some debris. “We didn’t exactly have a lot of time for stripping it properly, not with the enemy keeping a watch on it. It was hard enough to get what we did get.”

Leo watched as his brother shifted through some rubble, moving some of the bigger pieces aside. He’d offer to help, but when Don was on a mission like this, sometimes it was better to take a step back and let him do what he was going to do and help him when he was ready for it.

“That’s true,” Leo said. “But why come back here now?”

“Because,” Don said as he knocked on a wall, “we’re rebuilding again. And while I don’t think that Karai is going to attack us at the pumping station lair, there are still too many enemies that know about it for me to be completely comfortable stripping what I need from there.”

“There’s a lot of enemies that know about here too, Don,” Leo pointed out.

“That’s true,” Don said, squirming behind something. Leo eyed the overhand that was above his brother, hoping it wasn’t as unstable as it looked. “But they don’t expect for us to be here.”

Leo just sighed. It was next to useless to talk Don out of an idea once he got it in his head. “Let’s just be quick. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“You sound like you’ve been watching too many movies with Mikey,” Don said, clearly teasing Leo.

“Can you blame me? There’s been strange things going on,” Leo said.

Don popped up from where he was, and quickly made his way over to another area, still under an overhang. “I admit that the recent tremors have been unusual,” Don said. “But the last few have been weaker, which indicate that the tremors are dying down. It’s definitely a mystery as to why it’s happening, especially since we haven’t been able to detect any problems with the underground city, but I don’t think we’re in any danger.”

Leo eyed the overhang again. “I don’t know,” he said. “That still looks unstable to me, and I don’t like you being under there.”

“As long as the supports here,” he pointed, “and here hold, it should be fine,” Don said. “I checked them first, for structural integrity. They would have to be knocked out for the second level to collapse. Nothing I’m doing should do that.”

“Uh-huh,” Leo said. “And how many times have our plans worked out like that.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” Don said. He stood back a bit from the wall he had been going over. “Besides, this should do it.”

“What should do it?” Leo asked, looking at the wall quizzically.

“I reinforced this wall years ago using a special alloy I lucked into,” Don said. “I covered it back to look like a regular wall because, well, I wanted to see if I could. But I always regretted not being able to come back and get it.”

“But you figure now you can,” Leo said.

“But I figure now I can,” Don confirmed. “All we have to do is clear away the outer wall, and I’ll be able to get to it.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Leo asked.

“Well, if we do it carefully, it should only take an hour or so to clear the wall away. Then I can get to the alloy. That’ll probably take a few hours to get down properly.” Don looked back over at Leo. “You know I don’t expect you to stay with me the entire time.”

“As if I’d leave you here alone,” Leo said. “Besides, like I said, I—”

“—have a bad feeling about this,” Don finished with him. “Yeah, I know. But seriously, Leo, this is really important. If I can get it down, then we can use this to help protect the new lair. It’s going to be super helpful in lair defenses.”

Leo sighed. “Alright,” he said. “What do we do first?”

Don gave him a smile before turning back to the wall. “Well, I’ve already taken out the anchors that’s holding the Y’Lyntian wall to it. We need to start from the top and carefully take the pieces off so that they don’t fall and knock out the suppo—”

Don’s words were cut off by a sudden shaking that started up. It was just a small tremor at first, but it was enough for both turtles to be alarmed. Leo’s head snapped towards Don.

“Don! Get out of there!”

Donatello was already scrambling to get out from under the overhang, but there wasn’t time before the earthquake hit harder. The ground moved, and with it, so did the old lair’s walls and structure. Leo had to move fast to avoid being hit by falling debris from the ceiling, the more open area working to his advantage. Don didn’t have that advantage, though, and it was with horror that he watched the supports Don had pointed out earlier crumble in the force of the quake. They fell, and so, too, did the part of the second floor they held up. The wall Don had just loosened also started coming apart, big chunks of it falling to the undulating ground.

“Donnie!”

Don had tried to get out of there, but he had been thrown back by the force of the ground’s movement, leaving him no way out and no way to dodge. Leo could only watch in horror as the wall and part of the second floor fell on Donatello with a mighty crash, could only listen as he heard his brother cry out as a chunk of their former home fell on him, could only try not to panic as the sound of his cry seemed to be cut off.

“Don! Donnie! Donatello!” Leo called out to his brother, as that was about all he could do as the ground moved and rolled underneath him. Leo grit his teeth, but he could figure out nothing else to do but wait out the quake. Realistically, it probably didn’t last that much longer. However, to Leo, it felt as if it lasted an eternity.

As soon as the quake stopped and he felt like he could get to his feet again, Leo was up, rushing to the collapsed area. He had to be careful, making sure that there wasn’t a compromised area about to fall on him, but panic gave him speed.

“Donnie! Donnie!” He called for his brother, but he didn’t hear anything. “DON!”

Nothing. No sound. No anything.

He ran his hands along the debris, trying to figure out how to get to his brother. He couldn’t risk more of the area falling, but he also couldn’t keep from trying. There was no easy way to move anything, though. Everything that was loose felt like it would cause more to collapse if he moved it, and other pieces seemed to be stuck solid.

Leo cursed as he reached for his shell cell and was never more grateful that Don designed them to stay on their belts even in the most violent of circumstances. It was still there, and he immediately dialed Raph. It only rang once before his brother picked up.

“Leo?! Leo, are you—”

“Is everyone alright?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, just some bumps. Are you—”

“Get everyone you can,” Leo interrupted him, “And get whatever you might need.” His heart was pounding in his chest, but the words came out easily, mostly because they had to come out if Donnie was to stand a chance. “Part of the second level fell on Don and I can’t get him to answer, and I can’t move it myself. It’s unstable and I don’t know what kind of condition he’s in.”

Raph had fallen absolutely silent as Leo spoke. “On it,” he said. “Leo—in Don’s old lab, kinda in the corner, he used to have a cabinet that had some poles and stuff he used for securing areas before he could get supports under them. I don’t think he ever went back and got them.”

“I’ll get them,” Leo said. “Hurry.”

The line went dead, and Leo looked at the pile of fallen stonework. He put his hand on it, trying to see if he could sense his brother on the other side of it. He couldn’t tell if he could, or if it was just what he wanted to feel.

“Don’t die, Donnie. We need you.”

Don wasn’t sure what woke him, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to be awake. Intense pain flared out from his shoulder, making him gasp with pain before he was even sure of anything else. His hand went instinctively towards it, which was difficult in its own right, seeing as he was laying on his plastron, but even that little shift sent waves of pain through him. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there after that, riding out the worst of the pain. It was long enough to realize that he was in utter darkness. It was long enough to realize that he wasn’t home, or even in a cell or cage. It was long enough for him to realize that he was going to have to find a way to think around the pain.

He held still, taking a moment to try to compartmentalize the pain to a tolerable level. He let realizations settle in his brain, things he didn’t consciously think about, but unconsciously realized, such as being in a collapsed structure, being injured, being alone. Those he didn’t even think about, but just knew as he laid there. That didn’t mean that he didn’t have other questions, though, and he would have to find answers to them.

Carefully, taking care not to move his pain-filled shoulder this time, Don reached over with his other arm and gently probed at the wound as best he could. It still hurt, but he was prepared for the pain this time. What he wasn’t prepared for was to find a long, cylindrical piece of metal sticking out of his shoulder.

“Impalement,” he muttered to himself. “Best not to remove.”

He could still feel that hand, though, and wiggle his fingers, wrist and elbow, so that was good, if incredible painful. Other injuries were making themselves known now that he had tried to push the pain of his shoulder away. He was being very uncomfortably pressed into what felt like rocks and stones, and it felt like one very large piece was pressing down on his thigh and shell. There was pressure on his shell, which meant something was on top of it. More rock and stone felt like it was on top of the rest of his legs as well.

A cave in? No. An earthquake. Yes, Don knew that’s what this was. Of course. There had been an earthquake and the loosened wall had given way, hit the supports, and part of the second floor had come down on him. But what about Leo? Leo had been with him as well.

“...Leo?”

His voice was weak, with pain lacing it. “L-Leo?” he tried again, this time a little louder.

There was no answer.

His brother hadn’t been right next to him, so there was a good chance that he hadn’t gotten caught up in the collapse from the earthquake. He needed to be sure, though.

His shell cell was on the side of him that was impaled. It would have been impossible to get to, except that Donnie still had feeling in his arm and fingers. It was agony, but he got it, flipping it on. To his relief, the light from the phone broke through the darkness confirming, at least, that he wasn’t blind, just in utter darkness. He couldn’t bring the phone closer to his face, so he simply went off muscle memory and dialed Leo.

It rang. It rang once, twice, and Don was starting to get concerned. He couldn’t hear the phone anywhere nearby, although Leo was likely to have it on silent and—

“Donnie!?”

He picked up on the third ring, sounding panicked, and it sounded wonderful to Don’s ears.

“Donnie? Come on, say something, bud.”

Right. He needed to respond.

“Leo?” his voice sounded weaker than he expected, and he cleared his throat, trying to make it stronger.

“Don? Don, how badly are you hurt?” Leo asked.

“…Not entirely sure,” Don said, and he could hear the pain in his voice. He had no doubt that his protective older brother could too. “I’m pinned down on my plastron. Think… think my shell has some stones on it. My legs feel trapped. And…” he took a breath. “…my shoulder is impaled.”

There was a pause. “How badly, Don?”

“I can still move my hand around. And there doesn’t seem to be too much blood from what I can tell.” At least on the outside. He knew that he could be bleeding internally from this, and he wouldn’t be able to tell, at least not now.

“Okay. Okay, you hang in there, Donnie. I’ve already called the others. They’re gonna bring in help. The collapse isn’t stable, so we’re going to have to be careful. But I promise you, Don, we’re gonna get you out of there.”

“…Okay, Leo. Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

Don knew it was a silly request. He should be saving his phone’s battery. He should let Leo save his phone’s battery. But he couldn’t help himself. “…Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, Don. I promise.”

Leo stared down at his phone, his heart twisting at Don’s words. He could hear the fear and the pain in it. His hand tightened on his phone. He wasn’t going to leave Donnie. Not physically, and not over the phone.

Leo continued to talk to Don as he pulled out the supports that Raph had told him about, dragging them closer to the collapse, and then poked around for anything else useful. Don remembered where a few things were, and Leo very carefully went to check those out and add anything he could to the growing pile of useful things. He had just finished laying out a mattress for a first aid area when he heard the rumble of the sewer sled outside of the old lair.

“Hey Don? Hang on a second. I’ll leave you on speaker, but I think the others just arrived.”

“…okay.”

Sure enough, Raph came rushing in, Splinter with him, both of them carrying supplies.

“Leo! We’re here, we’ve got more supplies on the sled,” Raph said.

“Have you heard anything from Donatello?” their father asked, the worry in his voice evident.

Leo nodded. “He’s on the phone,” he said, holding out his shell cell.

Splinter seized it. “Donatello?”

“Hi, Father,” he said, and Leo watched as both Splinter and Raph looked concerned at how weak Don’s voice sounded.

“Donatello. It is good to hear your voice. How injured are you, my son?”

Leo gestured for him and Raph to unload the sled, while Splinter talked to Don. “He’s trapped, pressure on his shell, pressure on his legs, probably a concussion, if I had my guess. But he also says that his shoulder has been impaled.”

Raph’s head snapped over to Leo. “Impaled? How bad?”

Leo shook his head. “He can’t really tell. He’s flat on his plastron and his movement is limited. He can move his hand and feel his arm, but he’s in a lot of pain.”

There were lots of supplies on the sled, and Leo was glad that Raph had been home to grab them. While all of them knew how to do things, Raph was the one who spent the most time with Don when it came to building and construction. He didn’t have the scientific prowess that Don did, but he was good at the building part of things. Raph would have a better idea of what to do then Leo would have.

“We’ll get him outta there, Leo. I promise you,” Raph said.

“I promised him the same thing,” Leo said with a quickly fading smile.

“Then we’d better keep it,” Raph said.

“Where’s Mikey?” Leo asked as they started unloading the sled.

“Gone to get April,” Raph said. “Figured we could use her. She’s a robotics engineer, but she’s still an engineer. And I’ve heard her and Donnie talkin’ about stuff like this before.”

“What about Casey?” Leo asked,

“Bringin’ some more things we might need in their van. He’s gonna park nearby. LH is on his way too. Mike said somethin’ about seeing if the Justice Force could help.” Raph said.

Leo and Raph hoisted a load up together and made their way back into the half-collapsed lair. “They probably have their hands full with the city,” Leo said. “I can’t imagine that there’s not damage topside.”

“There is, least accordin’ to the news there is,” Raph confirmed. “We’re probably gonna be on our own for a bit.”

“Then let’s do the best we can.”

Splinter’s voice was soothing to Donatello, his father doing all he could to encourage him. In the background he could hear Raph and Leo, and then, a little bit later, Mikey and April. Leatherhead arrived not long afterwards, and Casey was right on his heels. They took turns talking to him, even as Don could hear the beginnings of construction through the phone. He couldn’t hear any of it through the crushing debris around him. That, he knew, wasn’t a good sign. It meant that he was in deep and there was a lot on him. It would take a while to get to him, more than likely.

Don also found that he had trouble staying awake. He didn’t even realize that he had fallen asleep or passed out until he was being awoken by someone on the other side of the phone. He knew that it worried his family. It worried him, too. But there wasn’t anything that they could do about it.

Right now, Mikey was keeping him company on the phone, telling him what the news was saying about the earthquake.

“And they’re saying that it was a, uh, six something earthquake.”

“A six? That’s pretty high for this area.”

“Yeah, that’s what—yeah, here, this one? Okay—yeah, that’s what they were saying. And, like, they had a guy on saying that they’ve never been able to prove that it’s the Rambo fault line’s—”

“Ramapo.”

“—Ramapo fault line’s fault before, but they think that the epicenter came from there.”

“How long has it been?”

“What?”

“Since the earthquake. How long?”

“Uh… a couple of hours, maybe.”

A couple of hours. Don closed his eyes, thinking. If the earthquake had been somewhere in the 6 to 7 range, then the aftershocks would be lower than that. But with the precariously balanced lair, even a smaller earthquake could cause a problem.

“—onnie? Donnie, you there, bro?” Mikey’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“What? Oh, uh, yeah. Just thinking,” Don said.

“Well think out loud. It makes the rest of us feel better,” Mikey said.

“Sorry,” Don said, then fell silent.

Silence obviously wasn’t what Mikey wanted. “So? Gonna share your thoughts with the class?”

Don wished he could sigh. He didn’t have enough room. “I was thinking about aftershocks,” he said.

“Aftershocks?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah. There’s likely to be one coming. And the lair is pretty unstable. You would all need to get out if—”

“Whoa, partner,” Mikey said. “I get and appreciate the warning, but there’s no way we’re leaving you behind.”

“You could come back,” Don argued. “After the aftershock had passed.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Mikey repeated, “There’s no way, so you might as well stop saying that now.”

“…alright,” Don agreed, just because he knew that arguing was pointless and he was growing tired again. “…tell me what all of you are doing out there.”

Mikey launched into an explanation of how they were trying to remove the debris without letting any of it shift, but also how they were placing structural supports where they could. He tried to describe it in as much detail as he could for Don, but Don felt himself slipping away anyway. He was having trouble staying awake again, and he knew he was about to pass out again.

And then there was a tremor.

Don’s eyes snapped awake. No. No, no, no, no, no! A tremor now and aftershock quake now could bring the whole place down. It could kill his family. It could crush him. But there was no stopping it, and he could hear the chaos on the other side of the call.

“What’s going on?”

“We can’t let if fall!”

“Look out!”

“Everyone to a safer area!”

“Aw—shell!”

He tucked the phone as close to his leg as he could, trying to keep it safe. The ground shook, and that meant that Donatello did too. He cried out as the movement shifted his shoulder, shifting the metal pipe in it too. He felt himself be pressed against the rocks that were entrapping him. He cried out again as they squished him closer to them, and then released the pressure, only to squeeze it again. Don could hear the rocks shift and move, felt some of the cascade down. He felt some hit his head and prayed that it didn’t make everything worse.

And then—

Everything shifted.

Don couldn’t help the scream of pain that ripped from his throat as pain ripped through his shoulder. The pipe in it shifted, moved, and it was agony to him. He had heard the phrase “like a hot poker” in reference to pain before, but this was the first time he really, truly understood it. The pressure from the rubble above him increased, weighing heavy on the pipe on his shoulder, and he could feel it. Even as the aftershock settled down, the pain seemed to increase until finally he couldn’t stand it anymore and passed out.

Mikey gripped the shell cell hard, looking at it in horror. The aftershock had come from almost nowhere, it seemed, and it had left them scrambling for cover, trying not to get hit and hoping that it didn’t make anything worse.

They didn’t hope hard enough. Mikey had been holding the phone when Don’s cry of pain had ripped through it. Everyone’s attention had snapped to it, and through the calls of his name, Mikey could still hear Don’s noises of pain. There was, though, nothing that could be done about it, about any of it, until the quake died down.

“Donnie?” Mikey asked, half afraid of what he would hear—or not hear.

There was silence.

“Donnie!” Mikey repeated, with a sense of urgency.

Still nothing.

“Donatello!”

Still nothing.

Mikey was beginning to panic now. What if that cave in had killed him? What if he was in such bad shape that he was dying right now? What if they couldn’t get to him in time? What if—

“Breathe, my son.” Master Splinter’s voice broke through, and he looked down at his father. “Let me see the phone.”

With a shaky nod he handed the phone over. Leo and Raph both put a hand on his shoulder, while Splinter put the phone to his ear.

“Do—Do you think—” Mikey began.

“Hush,” Splinter cut him off. “No one speak. I am listening.”

Mikey didn’t dare breathe. He didn’t think anyone else did either. Instead, they all stood there, watching Splinter and waiting. After a moment, Splinter lowered the phone.

“I hear his breath,” he said. “But he sounds as if he is in pain. We must move quickly.”

“The aftershock destroyed some of our supports,” Leatherhead said as he looked over the area. “However, it may not have all been to detriment.”

“There. And there,” Raph said, pointing. “It cleared those areas a bit. If we can shore ‘em up, that oughta help us move some more rock outta the way.”

“If we can clear that much away, then we might be able to get to whatever pocket Don is trapped in,” April said. “Once in, hopefully we can direct things better to get him cleared out.”

Casey took a step forward. “Just point me ta what needs movin’,” he said resolutely.

The group started moving to work again, but Mikey cast one last look at the shell cell in Splinter’s hand. He hoped that Don’s scream was not going to be the last time he heard his brother’s voice.

Donatello wasn’t sure how long he was out for this time. When he woke, he knew that his shoulder was on fire, feeling ten times worse than it had originally. It was still dark, except for the meager light of the shell cell. And he was still alone. He groaned.

“Donatello?”

Well, mostly alone.

His hand twitched around his phone, sending rays of pain throughout his arm. He groaned again.

“Donatello. Donatello do not fear. We are coming for you. We are trying our best to break through the wall.” That was Master Splinter’s voice, and one that Don was grateful to hear. He tried to speak, but nothing but an odd assortment of sounds came out. It was enough for Splinter, though. “Donatello?”

“—Fath’r.” It was slightly slurred and nowhere near as loud as he had hoped, but he thought it was recognizable.

“Donatello.” The relief in his father’s voice was palpable. “Donatello, how are you feeling?”

“…hurts.” He hurt so badly. He was sure it could be heard in his voice.

“Can you tell me how it hurts?” Splinter asked him.

Don was quiet for a few moments as he tried to comprehend and answer Splinter’s questions. “Shoulder… on fire,” he said. “Pressure. Lotsa pressure. Hard t’ breathe.”

He hadn’t realized that it was until he said it, but there was a lot of pressure on his shell that was making it harder to breath.

“Try to keep steady breaths, my son,” Splinter said. “We are getting closer to your location.”

Don paused for a moment. Trying to think past the pain, he listened. “…C’n hear it,” he said.

“You can hear it?” Splinter asked. “You can hear them getting closer to you?”

Don paused again, listening. The sounds he heard didn’t sound like debris or rubble settling. They were purposeful, and he was pretty sure that he was hearing some whips of voices.

“Yeah,” he said. “Digging… tools… voices.”

“Then they are getting closer. Hold on, my son. We will be there soon.”

“…’kay.”

Splinter continued to talk to him, his voice edging in and out as Don found himself drifting more than a few times. The passage of time meant nothing to him. He wasn’t even entirely sure when he was awake and when he wasn’t. However, when light poked into his darkness, he took notice of it.

It was only a little at first, small spots of it that played along the “floor” of his prison. But soon they got bigger and bigger, and he stared at them, finding them fascinating. Sometimes they were blocked and disappeared. Other times they grew. Sometimes they shrunk. But there seemed to be more of them the longer he stared.

It was when they were no longer on the floor that he realized the lights weren’t being blocked out, but that there was someone in his line of sight, the spots of light on that person. He blinked, and then blinked again, trying to clear his mind a bit.

“Raph?”

“Easy, Donnie. We’re gettin’ you outta here, okay? Just hang on.”

“Okay.”

For a moment, when Raph had first managed to squirm into the space where his brother was, he had thought Donnie was dead. He was more than half covered in rubble and debris, with a metal rod or pipe through his shoulder. He wasn’t moving, didn’t acknowledge Raph even being there, and his eyes were half-open, but staring at nothing. It scared Raph down to his bones.

It had taken him just a second more to realize that Donnie was breathing, and that his eyes were focused, just not on anything Raph was aware of.

“He’s here!” Raph had called back. “I’m gonna check on him. He’s in a little cavern kind of area. Looks like the metal he was after made him a cave.”

“Can we get through the metal?” Leo had called.

Raph had considered Leo’s question. “No, I don’t think so. But we can support it from in here and dig Don out, I think.”

He had managed to work his way over to Donnie at that point and called his name. “Don. Donnie. Donnie!”

It was only after Raph had placed his hand on an uninjured part of Don that Don seemed to realize he was there at all, calling out his name. Now Raph was trying his best to give his brother a reassuring smile, and a little bit of hope.

“We’re gonna get this place shored up real good, Donnie, and then we’ll dig you out,” Raph said.

Don let out a little sigh. “...’kay. But I don’t feel good.”

“Yeah,” Raph said. “Yeah, I bet you don’t.”

Aside from Splinter, April was the smallest, so she was sent in next, although with the supports. She helped Raph position them and set them up, even as the others worked on clearing more of the rubble away. With an exact location on Donatello, and people in there to tell them if anything looked like it was going to fall, they were able to move faster. The top was cleared off quickly, and then the front of the area he was trapped in. Splinter was in there as soon as room allowed Reassuring Don and looking over his wounds.

Raph found himself grimacing as more and more light revealed his brother’s state. The pipe looked nasty, and it went all the way through his shoulder. There was more blood than Raph was comfortable with, but he knew that if it was pulled out, then it was likely that Donnie would bleed out right then right there.

Getting Don out was the worst part to Raph’s mind. The metal pipe was actually acting as a brace for the slowly sagging wall above Don. They had to replace that support, and then they had to cut the pipe so that they could get Don out of there. That had obviously caused Donnie huge amounts of pain, from the way he finally gave in a screamed. Raph had considered it a blessing when he passed out.

Uncovering Don was just as bad as cutting the pipe, but in a different way. As they moved the rubble pieces and revealed his body more and more, dark bruises, and large cuts were revealed. His shell had some significant dings in it too, but nothing that made them worried about moving him. It was clear, though, that Don wasn’t going to be up and about for a while.

He was, however, in and out of consciousness as they moved him. Splinter and April had both come in to look him over and had done their best to do whatever they needed to there. And then, gently, he had been handed through the little cavern, out the opening, and into the main room, where they could lay him on the old mattress and finally fully see all the damage.

It wasn’t pretty. His shoulder was the worst of it, with the metal rod going right through it. Raph had no idea how they would heal that. Sure, they had noticed a long time ago that they seemed to heal faster and better than humans, even with less resources available to them, but that wasn’t a cure-all for things. Some injuries were harder to heal than others. This one wasn’t one Raph was sure could heal without intervention. There was also a rather large gash that was still bleeding on Donnie’s head, which probably accounted for some of his grogginess. Dark bruises and other cuts ran together over him. Some were bleeding, some were not, but all of them looked bad.

“Donnie…” Raph knelt next to his currently unconscious brother, hands hovering as he wanted to place them somewhere comforting, but he was afraid of touching his brother. Instead, he turned his eyes towards their father. “What do we do?” he asked, hoping that his father had an answer.

Splinter looked just as concern as the rest of them. “First, we get him home, and get us all to a much more secure and safer area. Then we will assess Donatello to see what our next steps are.” Raph saw Splinter’s gaze fall to Don’s shoulder, and the resolve in it waver a bit. “I… am not sure what can be done for his shoulder. We will have to see.”

Raph looked up at Splinter, stricken. If Don’s shoulder couldn’t be repaired, that would put him off the team. He needed to be able to use his arm. If nothing else, it would sideline him for a while. Raph could see the same sort of panic he was feeling in Leo’s eyes. None of them wanted this. But when he looked to Mikey, he was surprised by what he saw.

“I’m gonna find out if something can be done about it,” Mikey said, his voice and face determined. He had his shell cell out. “Maybe the Justice Force couldn’t come help us here, but I’m a member, and we’re friends with Silver Sentry, Raptor, Nano, Zippy Lad, and most of them. They’ve got a state-of-the-art medical center there. I betcha they can do something about Donnie’s shoulder, and I think they owe us one.”

“Good thinking, my son,” Splinter said, putting a paw on Mikey’s shoulder.

“We should still get outta here,” Raph said. “It’s unstable.”

“Raphael is correct,” Leatherhead agreed. “My place is closer, and I have supplies. We can adjourn there and tend to what we can of Donatello while we wait for the Justice Force to respond to Michelangelo.”

Mikey shook his head. “No, guys, you don’t get it. I’m a member. I have access. We can take him straight there. I’ll deal with any problems, but he’ll be seen.”

“Mikey, are you sure?” Leo asked.

Mikey nodded, resolute, and Raph couldn’t help but wonder when his goofy brother had grown up so much. It probably happened over time, just like with all of them.

“They gave me a full scan when I got there, to have a baseline, they said,” Mikey said. “But I’m sure they could still use any help we can give them.”

“LH, can you come with us?” Leo asked the giant crocodile. “You have medical experience with us. That might be useful.”

Leatherhead nodded. “I shall accompany you,” he agreed.

“Then let us begin our journey. Raphael, will the Sewer Sled hold all of us, and is it capable of getting to the Justice Force Headquarters?” Splinter asked.

Raph slowly nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it should be able to, but we’re gonna need to hold onto Donnie. It wasn’t built with the injured in mind.”

“We will do what we have to. Raphael, you drive. Michelangelo, accompany him up front,” Splinter said. “The rest of us will be with Donatello.”

“Yes, Sensei,” they both snapped out automatically.

Everyone started to move then, getting what was needed quickly, but Raph stopped when he heard Don groan.

“Donnie?” he asked, returning to his side. “Donnie? You there, bro?”

“…Raphie.” Don’s eyes were blinking open slowly, and he seemed to be coming around again.

“Hey, Donnie,” Raph said. “There you are.”

Don blinked up at him from the mattress, his expression open, pain clear in his face. “…hurts,” he said. He tried to shift, but stopped, grimacing in pain. “How bad ‘s it?”

Raph gently squeezed Don’s hand. “It’s pretty bad, Donnie. But you hang in there. We’re gonna get you some help, okay? And everythin’s gonna be fine.” Leo subtly moved into view, he and Casey clearly ready to pick up the mattress and take it to the Sewer Sled. Raph looked back down at Don and gave his hand a squeeze. “We’re gonna take you to the Justice Force, okay? Mike’s callin’ in some favors. I’m gonna drive us there in the Sewer Sled.”

Don’s eyes closed, but he kept ahold of Raph’s hand. “Take it easy on the curves. The balance ‘s been off…”

Raph squeezed Don’s hand. “I will, Donnie. I promise.”

Raph gave Don’s hand one last squeeze, and then let go, standing back so that the mattress could be picked up. Don grimaced at the movement but didn’t protest. Raph hurried on around them, getting into the driver’s seat and making sure that everything was in working order. As soon as everyone was settled in, Raph took off, expertly handling the machine even as the high speeds they were traveling at. They shot through the sewers, and then across the bay, towards the Justice Force Headquarters.

“You sure about this, Mikey?” Raph asked, over the roar of engine.

Mikey was messing with something and looking as serious as Raph had ever seen him. “I’m sure,” he said firmly. “This’ll get us in, even though it’s not my day on, and I don’t think that Kari will turn us down.”

“Kari?” Raph asked.

“One of the healers. She’s kinda the head honcho there when it comes to medical stuff. She’s a real doctor, too, so she’ll know what to do and who to call if she needs help,” Mikey explained. He glanced up at Raph a smile that was nowhere near his usual brightness on his face. “She likes me. I’m sure she’ll be willing to help.”

“Alright. If you say so, then I believe you, bro,” Raph said, and refocused on driving, pushing the Sewer Sled as much as he dared.

The pain Don was feeling was both horribly intense, but also numbing in a way. It was like he had so much of it, that he was almost not feeling it at all. Of course, when he did feel it, it felt awful, and there really wasn’t anything to do about that.

He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, if he were honest. He was having trouble focusing, his attention and maybe even awareness fading in and out. He knew that he mumbled something about the Sewer Slider and Raph’s driving. He knew that Splinter was with him, his father gently stroking his head, especially every time Don felt a stab of pain. He knew Leatherhead was there, from the comforting rumbling of his friend’s voice, and sensing his bulk nearby. He knew April was with him, her soft hands holding his rough one. He knew Casey was there, could hear him relaying things from the front to everyone else. He knew that somewhere in front of him, probably in the driver’s area, were Raph and Mikey, as he could catch snatches of their voices every so often.

He also knew that they were going fast, and that there was a sense of urgency about it all. He was fairly certain it was because of him. He couldn’t recall the particulars, but he was pretty sure it was because of him. He tried, a few times, to turn his head towards his shoulder, where the most pain was, but every time he tried, someone turned his head away. He was aware, at some point, that they were in open water, because he could feel the sun, see the sky, and feel the spray of the water.

He was aware when they were slowing down, and when they came to a halt. He wished he wasn’t aware when they moved him. The pain clouded his senses again, and everything became mixed up. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but he could hear Mikey talking rapidly about something, and a woman’s voice. He was moved somewhere else, and he felt cool hands on him. He tried to make sense of his sight, but everything was all mixed up, especially when the hands went to his shoulder.

The moment they touched his shoulder, his vision went white, and he was sure that he yelled or screamed out. There was a flurry of activity, and then, suddenly, a blessed relief and a release into darkness.

When Don woke up next, it was to a soft but steady beeping, a soft mattress that was definitely not one that they owned, the warmth of a blanket and a heat lamp, and a definite reduction in pain. He wasn’t sure, at first, what woke him up, until he realized that someone was standing next to whatever he was lying on.

“I know you’re awake,” a soft, feminine voice said. “It’s alright. You’re safe here. You’re at Justice Force Headquarters with your family.”

Cautiously, Don opened his eyes, seeing a dark-haired woman smiling down at him, her pale face framed by half-pulled back curls. She had on a white coat, like one a doctor would wear, but her outfit underneath didn’t quite seem to be normal wear. Her hands were on him, gentle, and Don blinked, trying to make sense of this.

“Hey, bro!” Mikey was standing next to the woman and smiling down at him.

Don blinked. “Mikey?” He coughed a little, and almost immediately Mikey was offering him a glass of water with a straw in it. Don glanced at the woman, who still had her hands on him carefully running them over him, occasionally doing something different with the one that seemed to be in some sort of black skeletal frame. She didn’t seem bothered by it, so he took the straw and drank.

Once he was finished, Mikey moved the glass away, but he didn’t move away from Don’s side. “Glad to see you back with us, bro,” he said. “You really put yourself through shell.”

“I… um…” Don was more than a little confused, glancing at the woman again. Her hands were glowing white as they moved, although it was barely there, and Don wasn’t sure what to make of that. Mikey seemed to catch on.

“Oh, don’t worry about her,” Mikey said. “She’s just my best girl, Kari.”

“You say that about all the girls,” the woman, Kari said, with a bit of fondness in her voice, before turning her attention to Don. “Hello. My name is Dr. White. I’m the chief medical officer around here, so to speak, and a healer. I was just giving you a look over to make sure you’re healing nicely. Healing is a process, and sometimes even when it’s sped up, small problems arise.”

“You had a lot of injuries, Donnie,” Mikey said, a bit more serious than before. “Concussion, chips in your shell, so many bruises you were more black and blue than green, cuts and scrapes, broken ribs.” He paused for a moment, indicating the shoulder that Dr. White’s hands were hovering above now. “Your shoulder was the worst. Some kind of metal rod or pipe or something through it.”

“I’ll hand you the chart later,” Dr. White said. “Your family seems to think that you’ll want to look over it. Now,” she moved her hands back up towards his head, “can you tell me what happened to you?”

Don recognized the standard questions of an awareness assessment, and he obliged, giving her a quick rundown of what happened.

“That sounds right, from what I was told,” Dr. White said. “Sounds like your concussion healed well. The shoulder will take a little longer, but it will heal.” She glanced over at Mikey. “Turtle Titan is your brother, right? It’s good he got you to me so fast. I was able to take care of a lot of the damage before it started to heal wrong.”

Mikey beamed at her. “I knew I could count on you, Kar!”

She looked at him with an amused look, one eyebrow raised. “You may be one of my favorites, Turtle Titan, but you still better watch it.” She looked back down at Don, stripping off the skeletal glove as she was talking. “For some reason, I like him. He’s honestly one of my favorites. He’s wormed his way into my friendship, somehow, and I’m usually one to keep my distance.”

“He’s like that,” Donnie said. “Kinda annoying, actually.”

Kari grinned at Mikey’s affronted “hey!” and Don thought that he might like her too.

“I’ll let your family in, now. It’s a good thing I already had a base to use for understanding how to heal you, two other enthusiastic volunteers for references, and three other people with a knowledge of your anatomy and physiology. It certainly made treating you easier.”

Dr. White made her way to the door of the room, opening it up and stepping out. Not but a moment later everyone else was piling into the room. He was greeted enthusiastically, and Don waved back at them, pushing himself to a sitting position. Mikey automatically reached for him to help, even though Don was pretty sure he’d have been alright on his own.

“Donatello, it is good to see you aware and significantly less injured, my son,” Splinter said, walking up to him and laying a hand on his arm.

“Indeed, it is, my friend,” Leatherhead said. “Before this I was afraid that you would have a months long journey to even begin to heal.”

“That bad, huh?” Don asked, a bit sheepishly.

“Mostly the shoulder,” Raph said, giving the arm a nudge. “Wasn’t sure how we was gonna deal with that.”

“How are you feeling, Donnie?” Leo asked.

Don paused a moment to consider his state. “I’m… tired. Very tired. And my shoulder hurts some, but it’s more like… like I’ve been in a lot of fights and took a hit or two to the shoulder.”

“So nuthin’ that ain’t gonna heal up on its own,” Casey said.

Donnie shrugged, and then regretted it. “That’s what she said,” he said.

“I’m just glad that you’re going to be okay,” April said, leaning in to hug him. “I was so worried.”

“Justice Force membership comes with perks!” Mikey said with a grin.

“Is that my chart?” Don asked, nodding at a strange piece of technology that seemed to have words on it.

Most everyone blinked blankly at it, but Mikey snatched it up and looked over it. “Looks like it, bro. You sure you wanna learn everything?” he asked.

Don nodded and held out his hand. “I am,” he said. “Besides—I’ve not seen technology like that, and I’d like a closer look at it.”

Mikey handed it over amidst a bit of good-natured ribbing that was flying over Don’s head as he read the report. The report on his shoulder was the worst, and Don wasn’t sure that they would have had a way to fix it, if Mikey hadn’t of brought him to the Justice Force.

“I’m really sorry, guys,” Don said, and the squabbling stopped. Don didn’t look up at them but looked at the report. “I really shouldn’t have put myself or any of you in that position. The metal I wanted is really valuable to me, but it’s not worth any of our lives. I should have waited until the quakes had passed before I went looking instead of being anxious to get things done.”

“And that would have been how long waiting?” Leo said. “And made your job how much harder?” he sighed. “No, I understand why you wanted to go on,” he said. He reached over rubbed Don’s head. “A little patience next time wouldn’t be a bad thing, but I get it.”

Don ducked from under his hand but smiled up at his family. “I’ll work on it,” he said.

“Good,” Raph said, sitting beside Don and slinging an arm around him. “Because we’ll be making sure of it, bro.”

“Just as soon as Kari lets you out of here, that is,” Mikey said, crowding in and nudging Don from the other side. “She’s pretty protective of her patients especially when there’s no secret identity cover to keep.”

Don grimaced. “How long do you think she’ll keep me here?” he asked.

“Hard to say. Until she’s satisfied with your healing, or you turn yourself into enough of a nuisance,” Mikey said.

“That must be how you get out of it,” Raph said.

Mikey gasped dramatically. “How dare, you, Raphael. I am one of her favorites!”

“Are you one of her favorites, or is she one of yours,” Leo said, a teasing grin on his face.

Mikey pulled a face. “Ew, no, like she’s sixty or something!”

“That pretty lady?” Casey said, surprised. “You sure you didn’t hit yer head too, Mike? She looked like she was in her twenties, maybe thirty at most.”

Mikey shrugged. “Healers live longer,” he said. “She just ages really slowly.”

“Handy,” April said with a quirked brow.

“Anyway,” Mikey said. “I’m sure Don will have no problems getting out of here—she’ll be sick of him by the fifth machine he takes apart.”

“He will not be taking any machines apart,” Splinter said firmly. “He will be resting and recuperating instead.”

“Good luck with that,” Raph said, clearly teasing him.

“I do have lots of questions,” Don admitted, and then grinned when his family started teasing him about it.

Don relaxed into the good-natured teasing and the presence of his family. After being trapped alone and injured in that rubble, this time with his family was exactly what he needed, and he wasn’t going to pass up a moment of it.

Although that didn’t mean that the moment he could, he wasn’t going to be making his escape to look at some of the advanced technology Mikey had told him was here.

Maybe he could find a better way to get to that alloy. It would be a shame to go through all of this, and have nothing to show for it, after all.

#whumpuary 2023 #whumpuaryno5 #tmnt #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt splinter

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mountain0fthesun · 1 year

Text

When The Curtain Falls (Chapter 2)

Word count: 1.9k

Pairings: Oliver Reed x Elle Fernanda

Warnings: mentions of the following: drinking, drug use, violence; explicit language

A/N: Some people are understandably confused by this whole thing, lol. Just to clarify:

1) I’m not writing these characters as if the twins are portraying them in real time, I’m writing these characters as completely separate, independent beings. Shipping the twins or (any of them together) is most definitely not my thing, so don’t any expect that here. I also don’t intend for this piece to get explicit/smutty, so if you’re here for any of that then you might be outta luck.

2) Background: I’ve had a story idea about two struggling/aging actors navigating Hollywood together for a while, largely inspired by the unnamed heroine in WTCF (that song doesn’t get nearly enough love imo) and when we were introduced to Ms. Elle I was like,,, yes she is the moment. I’ve also been seeing people saying they want to see Oliver and Elle in a video together so that really got the gears turning too.

So yeah, this is just meant to be some unserious campy fun with these lovely characters that the boys brought to life. Next update will probably be sometime next week. And who knows? Maybe some of our other lovely MasterAss instructors will make some appearances as well...

“You’re in and out of fashion...”

ELLE

“I can’t believe it. I just cannot believe it.”

Elle leaned back, slowly sinking into the leather easy chair in her trailer. The day weighed on her like an elephant was standing on her chest.

Her manager, Alex, was sitting at the little plastic desk, bouncing his leg nervously. “It wasn’t so bad! Everyone seemed nice. Well, almost everyone,” he muttered. “But you can’t win ‘em all, right?”

Like herself, Alex was a native New Yorker transplant in Los Angeles, and had all the neuroses to prove it. He had been sweating bullets all day, and Elle doubted it was solely because of the heat.

“I could use a cocktail,” she suggested, trying to keep her tone casual.

Alex leapt to his feet, eyes alight. He swung open the refrigerator door and inspected the contents. “Uh…tequila soda?”

“Sounds divine. Make it strong.”

“I know, I know.”

Elle watched as he carefully poured tequila and soda water into a glass, face twisted in concentration. She was grateful that Alex came with her to the first day on set. He was her longtime friend, one of the first she made when she arrived onto the sleazy streets of Hollywood, and he began overseeing her day to day a few years ago when her old manager quit on her career—and their marriage. After spending many nights crying and having soap opera marathons with her, Alex became her right hand man, arranging her meetings, traveling with her to shoot destinations, and, most importantly, making her drinks.

With two very full glasses in each hand, Alex carefully made his way across the trailer, making sure not to spill a drop. He offered one to Elle.

“Thank you, Alex.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” He perched on the arm of her chair. “Are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine. I just can't stand the unprofesstionalism of that man. It is far too much.”

Alex gave her a sad smile. “I know, Elle, I’m sorry. It’s only for a little while.”

“I can’t stand schmucks like him.” Elle threw her hands up in the air. “Who does he think he is, waltzeding around the place like he’s hot shit?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Elle. I’m going to be watching him like a hawk.” Alex patted her hand. “But if he’s going to respect you, you have to respect him, too.”

“If he wants my respect, he’s going to have to earned it,” Elle grumbled. “You know the type of guy I respect? Guys like Gary Cooper. The strong, silent type. He knows when to speak and when to shut his trap. And aboved all, he’s a natural talent.”

Alex pursed his lips. “But you can’t really say that he isn’t talented. I mean, come on, he’s an icon. He’s Oliver Fucking Reed.” He cocked a bushy eyebrow and stroked a pretend beard.

Elle gritted her teeth, knowing full well what was coming next. “Don’t you dare—”

“Ye want to call me a salty dog?” he yelled in an abysmal English accent. “How’s about licking me and finding out for sure?” He cackled, waving his hand around, beverage sloshing dangerously around in the glass.

“Alex, you’re spillting your beverage!” Elle yelled.

Alex settled down, face flushed a bright pink. “Sorry,” he said meekly. “You know how much I love The Last Pirate King. He’s just so...larger than life. He really is the character.”

Elle sighed. “You know, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. He’s not even acting at that point. He’s just playing the same charatcher every time. I mean, is he Captain Tracy Tritt? Is Captain Tracy Tritt just supposed to be him? Who knows?”

She took a sip of her drink, the lime wedge bumping against her lip.

“That’s just his brand, Elle,” Alex said. “He’s practically the blueprint of the ‘handsome hellraiser.’”

“‘Handsome’ is generous,” she muttered.

Alex scoffed. “Oh, come on, Elle. Even you have to admit he’s good looking.”

Elle bit her cheek. She couldn’t deny that Oliver Reed was easy on the eyes. But that didn’t matter.

“There’s a limit to how far you can go by being good lookeding,” she said. “There is no woman on earth who could get away with doing what he does, you know? I can’t afford to be a one tricked pony. My career would be dead in the water by now if I was.” Elle set her glass down and spread out her fingers to count on them. “On top of being beautiful, I have to be a singer, an actress, a model, an author, an entrepreneur, a…”

“...a brand ambassador, a pageant queen, a deli meat spokesperson,” Alex droned, finishing her sentence. “I know, Elle. And you’ve excelled at all of those things. Looks fade, yes. But talent is forever. And you are absolutely a once-in-a-generation talent. I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t believe it.”

Elle felt a lump in her throat. “Thank you, dear.”

“Of course.” Alex smiled, patting her hand.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Alex pulled it out and squinted at the screen. “Oh, good! The car is almost here.”

“Good. Get me out of this desert. I’m going to look like a raisin if I stay here any longer.” Elle quickly polished off the rest of her drink. “I just have to use the ladies’ room. Excused me.”

“No rush. I’ll be waiting outside.” Alex stepped down from the trailer and closed the door behind him.

The bathroom in the trailer was surprisingly roomy, complete with a shower and a double vanity. A bowl of fragrant potpourri sat on the side of the sink, and the mirror was spotlessly clean.

Elle closed the door behind her and sighed. It was the first time she was alone all day, and she desperately needed a moment of peace and quiet. She took off her glasses and looked at her reflection.

She was pushing fifty now, though she didn’t look it. She had pumped herself full of not-so-secret Hollywood techniques—diet pills, beauty creams, the tasteful injection here and there—just to get casting directors to give her the time of day. Most actresses who came up around the same time as her had succumbed to overdoses, found facedown in the bathtub with a cocktail of barbiturates in their systems, or ended up fading into obscurity with a few kids and a modest divorce settlement.

The fates of Hollywood starlets seemed just as scripted as the films she’d worked on all of her life, but she beat the odds again and again. She had to fight tooth and nail to get here.

And what did that clown have to do?

All he had to do was turn on his drunkard charm and crack a few jokes in his annoying accent. He showed up half-coherent and reeking of alcohol, his beard looking like something crawled into it and died, and they all ate it right out of the palm of his hand. Hell, he could even trash a script and walk out of the room without getting fired on the spot.

Elle hated Oliver Reed. Not because of what he was—but because of what he didn’t have to be.

She gripped the sides of the sink and took a few deep breaths.

“Elle? The car is here,” Alex called through the walls of the trailer.

“Coming,” she called back. She looked herself in the eyes. She looked tired, but her eyes still had that fire.

“Get a grip, girl,” she whispered to herself. “You are Elle Fernanda. You are Superbitch. You’re a fucking Siberian tiger.”

She put on her sunglasses and adjusted her shawl. She was going to make this movie her best yet, even if she had to work around Oliver Reed to do it.

𖤓

Elle entered the makeup trailer and was immediately hit with the smell of baby powder and rubbing alcohol.

A young woman with long braids trailing down her back turned towards her, and her face immediately lit up.

“Oh my gosh, Elle! I mean, Ms. Fernanda.” She folded her hands over her heart. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that, I’m a really big fan, and—”

“Cherry? Is she here?” A man with a thick French accent called out.

“Yes, sir,” she called back. She seemed to remember herself, pulling her hands behind her back.

The man rounded the corner. He was a vision in black, wearing a turtleneck, slacks, and loafers, with a pencil mustache and wire rimmed glasses.

He extended a hand. “My name is Gerard. Pleased to meet you.”

“Hello, dear. You may kiss my hand.” Elle stretched a hand out towards him. He kissed it, his mustache tickling her skin.

“Have a seat. I’ll get right to work.” Gerard snapped his fingers, and Cherry sprang into action, gathering up sponges and brushes of every shape and size.

Gerard didn’t waste a single second. He immediately spritzed Elle’s face with a flowery toner, and when it dried, slathered on a few pats of greenish primer.

Elle glanced sideways to watch him work in the mirror. She could see every pore, every line, every blemish in high definition. With each product Gerard applied, she could see them shrink until they disappeared.

“Hmm.” Gerard took a step back, tapping a slender finger to his chin. “You have the crow’s feets.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she said.

“I never noticed before. You are always wearing the glasses.” Gerard swept his fingers up the sides of his eyes. “The cats eyes, yes? Do you wear them to hide the lines?”

Elle bit the inside of her cheek. “I just like chunky sunglasses.” she answered plainly.

“Ah. The bigger the better. Very American,” he chuckled. “Well, it is nothing I can’t work around. I’ll just need to spend a bit more time on them.”

Elle tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach while Gerard poked and prodded some more. Cherry tamed her curls with a small curling iron and enough hairspray to suffocate a horse.

Gerard spritzed a final layer of finishing spray and inspected his work. He nodded satisfactorily, then moved around the back of her chair. “Well, what do you think?”

Elle’s breath caught in her throat. A sultry smokey eye, a shiny red lip, cheeks perfectly contoured—she looked, dare she say, sexy.

“Oh my gosh,” Cherry squealed, clasping her hands together. “You are stunning, Elle.”

“It’s very femmed fatale,” Elle said. “You did very well.”

Gerard smiled. “I’m so glad, Elle.”

A walkie talkie on Cherry’s belt crackled to life. “’Superbitch’ to wardrobe please,” the tinny voice said at the other end.

“Sounds like I need to get my jumpedsuit on.” Elle rose from the chair and stretched her legs. “Thanked you again, both of you.”

“Good luck, Elle!” Cherry called over her shoulder as she tidied the counter.

“Best of luck, dear,” Gerard echoed, wiggling his fingers in a small wave.

Her hand was on the trailer door when Gerard came up behind her.

“Elle?”

“Yes?”

“You know, I know many good doctors in France that could fix the crows feets,” Gerard whispered. “They are subtle. They could make it look au naturale. Just ask me and I will get you anyone you want.”

Elle felt her eyes burn. “I have my own people for that, but thanked you anyways, Gerald.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Ahem, it’s Gerard.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Elle pulled open the door and stepped down onto the dusty ground.

“But—”

“Ta-ta.” Elle wiggled her fingers mockingly and shut the door behind her.

She tipped back her head, blinking back tears, trying not to ruin her smokey eye.

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #fanfic #greta van angst #greta van fluff #gvf #oliver reed #elle fernanda #elliver

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lec743 · 2 years

Text

Home Life Complications - ROTTMNT Fic

Tina and Mikey hang out.

If you don’t like reading on Tumblr you can read here on:

AO3

Fanfiction

Tina’s day at school was awful. She failed her math and science tests, even though she knows that she studied hard for them. Her pants ripped down the middle during P.E. class. And now that the Purple Dragon tech club kids are back in school, they’ve been actively harassing her by calling her names that made fun of her weight, putting rotting food into her locker, and along with other things she didn’t want to think about.

Trying to cool her head and make herself feel better, Tina was on a random roof top in New York as she was using her fan to fling herself high up in the air, and then drift slowly back down to the roof. She liked the feeling of falling slowly and feeling the wind through her short, blond hair.

Tina landed lightly on her feet and was about to go again when she heard clapping. She tensed up and got ready to blow away anyone that would threaten her, but then she saw it was an orange color coded giant turtle. He was smiling, and giggling, and clapping loudly. Tina recognized him.

“You’re S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s uncle! You were at my place like a month or so ago.”

“Yep. Hi again. Didn’t mean to spook you,” he said as he sat cross-legged on an air conditioner, “I just saw you and I thought I’d say hi. How’s your hand?”

He was talking about when she had her two middle fingers in a splint back when she dislocated them from punching Repo, “It’s Okay,” Tina shrugged.

Tina stared at him as she expected him to go off and do his own thing, but he just stared back at her with a smile.

“Can I see it?”

“See what?”

“Your fan,” he clarified, “I want to examine it.”

“I mean, I’ll open it wide so you can look at it, but I don’t want you touching it,” Tina said as she walked over to him and started pulling her fan out wider.

The orange turtle hopped down from the air conditioner and got up close to see the fan. Tina slowly turned it in her hands so that the turtle teenager could see it at every angle. As she was showing him her fan, she saw the stickers on his plastron and how they looked hand drawn and applied.

“I love the eagle, monkey, and dog drawings on it. Did you do draw them yourself?”

“No. Dad drew them on while he was making it.”

“Wow, he’s really good at drawing.”

Tina nodded in agreement as she put her fan away.

“What are you doing out here? Are you by yourself? I don’t want you to get hurt like your brother in red did.”

The teen groaned at her and said, “I’m fine. I’m not going to start a fight on my own like Raph did. Besides what are you doing up here by yourself?”

Tina raised an eyebrow at his sudden defensiveness, but she didn’t let it bother her.

“I was feeling bad from school, so I came up here to goof off on my own.”

“Oh…”

“Are you having a bad day too?”

He sighed but said nothing else as he kicked at a roof top pebble.

“I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves. I’m Tina. What’s your name?”

“Michelangelo, but you can just call me Mikey.”

“Well Mikey, do you want to go to the arcade with me. It’s only around the corner from here.”

“But I didn’t even think to bring a disguise,” he said.

“It’s nighttime and when you’re with me, you are in disguise. People will just think you’re in a really cool costume.”

“Oh. Hiding in plan sight… Yah, okay then.”

“Alright,” Tina beamed, “Let’s go.”

Tina got out her fan, grabbed Mikey’s three-fingered hand, then she flung themselves into the air, half gliding half falling to the arcade. As they traveled Mikey was yelling and hollering with glee the entire time and it made Tina smile.

They landed in a back alley of the Super Crazy All Night-er Arcade and Tina put away her fan as Mikey caught his breath.

As they went around the front Tina was excitedly jumping as she walked as she said, “Man, I’ve been wanting to come here for months.”

“Why haven’t you,” Mikey asked as they walked through the neon lit doorway.

“It’s no fun going to a place like this by yourself. I want someone to share the fun with.”

“What about your dad. Did he say he wouldn’t come with you or something? Or what about April. You two are friends, right?”

Tina was paying for their entry fee at the front desk as she said, “Dad would come here with me if I asked him, but being in a loud, neon and black light lit place like this hurts him too much for him to actually have fun with me. I don’t like being the only one enjoying myself. And as for April, sure I could ask her, but I don’t know. She’s the first friend I’ve made in a really long time so I don’t want to scare her away with my interests and what not.”

“Oh…”

Tina heard the sadness in his voice, and she immediately said, “But that doesn’t matter now, because you’re here and we can have fun together.”

Mikey smiled at her as they walked though the double doors that was previously muffling the loud music coming out of the arcade proper. The lights were off, and everything was aglow with black light paint and neon signs showing where everything is. There were old fashioned pinball machines, and shooting games, and rollercoaster simulators and Dance, Dance Revolution and so much more. In a far corner of the arcade is the bathrooms and food stand, with the food and drinks being the only other thing you have to pay for besides the entry fee.

“Woohoo! Let’s go do this one first,” Mikey said as he grabbed Tina’s wrist and pulled her towards a zombie shoot’em up.

Tina laughed with him.

The two teenagers played so many games together. They played a game of endurance to see which one would get sick on the rollercoaster simulator, which Tina angrily lost at. They competed in an intense game of Dance, Dance Revolution, and Mikey was surprised that he lost. They both sucked at any shooting game that they played on, but they were both good at Skee-Ball. Eventually the two of them decided to sit down and take a breather, with Tina ordering them both something to eat.

At the small table they were sitting at, Tina was calmly eating her nachos with extra jalapenos while she was watching Mikey absolutely demolish a large supreme pizza.

“Uh, Mikey. I’m not going to steal your food.”

He looked at her questioningly as he was lowly shoving a pizza slice into his mouth.

“Are you even tasting your food?”

Mikey took a second to chew and swallow his food then he said, “Sorry. It’s not everyday I get to eat an entire pizza by myself.”

“Ah, yes. Sharing with three other siblings must be hard.”

Mikey handed her a slice of pizza and asked, “Do you want a slice?”

Tina waved it away and said, “No thank you. I don’t like pizza.”

Mikey gasped and held his pizza slice close to his chest like he was covering the ears of a child from someone who was cussing loudly, “How can you say that. Pizza is the perfect food.”

“I’m not going to get into it because it’s a long story, but Dad didn’t know how to raise a human child when he found me, okay. And mistakes were made. The consequences of those mistakes are that I don’t like pizza and I never will.”

Mikey stopped clutching his pizza slice like they were pearls, then said, “Oh. Well, that’s sad.”

Tina just shrugged.

As Tina was adding a few jalapenos to her cheese covered chip she asked, “So, why were you out on your own tonight. Just needed to get out of the house for a bit?”

“Yah. I was just getting in the way of everyone, so I thought I’d go out,” Mikey said as he flicked a black olive into a nearby trashcan.

“Getting in the way?”

“Yah. Like how little brothers can be. I apparently was just being annoying to everyone.”

Tina watched as he slightly sunk into his shell like he was going to disappear into it. She ate her chip, then said, “Well, I wouldn’t know what having a sibling would be like. It’s only ever been me and my dad and a grandmother figure I had who died when I was four. I always wanted a sibling. Someone to play games with. To share secrets with. To plan world domination with.”

That last comment made Mikey laugh then he said, “Having siblings isn't all fun and games though. Sometimes I want to smack Leo's smug grin off his face, or sometimes I want to sabotage Donnie's tech so he doesn't program it to favor him, and sometimes Raph is such a smother that I want to scream. It's exhausting sometimes."

“But they are there for you regardless, right. Even when you all are sick of each other, you come back together.”

Mikey smiled and she smiled back as Mikey said, “Yah. You know, maybe I shouldn't have left without telling everyone where I was going.”

Tina sucked air between her teeth then said, “Yah, that's not good. I still have Donnie's phone number on my phone. How about we get out of here and call them.”

“Hold on. Let me finish this first,” he said as he shoved the last two pizza slices into his mouth.

The two of them walked back outside and Tina got out her phone. Then she saw that she had several missed phone calls from April and Donnie.

“Looks like they were looking for you,” Tina stated as she dialed Donnie's number into her phone.

The phone kept ringing until it hit the voice mail stage and Tina hung up. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she then tried to call April. Again, it kept ringing until it went to voice mail.

“Hey, was April over at your place when you left?”

Mikey nodded, then said, “Yah, she was helping Donnie with an experiment he was working on.”

“Oh, well, neither Donnie or April picked up their phones and I have a bad feeling about this. How far away are we from your place?”

“Uhhh, about forty blocks from here.”

“Let’s giddy-on up then. Lead the way.”

Mikey nodded then ran ahead. Tina lagged a bit behind him as she followed. She’s not much of an endurance runner, so when they made it to a rundown apartment that had some weird vines poking out of a few windows, she was breathing heavily and leaning against a lamp post to steady herself.

“How are you doing,” Mikey asked her as he rubber her back.

“That. Didn’t. Feel. Like. Forty. Blocks,” Tina gasped between each pause, “Does your place always look like that?”

“The vines are new,” he said as he examined the building, “They kind of look like Barry’s vines.”

“Is Barry a yōkai?”

“Yah.”

“Was Donnie doing science experiments on yōkai powers or something?” Tina said finally getting her breath back.

“I don’t know! I was kicked out of his little lab room before I could even ask him about it.”

The sound of glass shattering and landing on the concrete interrupted their conversation. Neither of them liked how eerily silent the apartment was despite it looking like it was completely full of purple-pink vines.

Tina got out her fan and opened it twenty-five percent wide for maximum air cutting purposes. Mikey pulled out his nunchucks and they started slightly glowing an orange hue.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Mikey said as he walked towards the building, with Tina following close behind him.

They walked over the purple-pink vines as they seethed through the windows and under the lobby door. As Mikey was trying to pull the doors open, Tina saw that five vines were rising like cobras ready to strike. She swung her fan, and a concentrated blast of wind came out of it, cutting three of the five vines. As soon as she cut them, five more rose.

“Oh. I’ve made a mistake,” Tina warned Mikey.

“Like what,” he asked groaning while pushing the door wide open.

The seven vines became eleven when Mikey wedged the lobby door open.

“I see the mistake,” he said as he looked at the vines surrounding them.

Before either of them could say anything else all eleven vines lunged at them. Tina cut them with her fan and Mikey spun his nunchucks with such speed or accuracy that he was also cutting them down. The more they cut, the more that appeared to attack them.

Tina felt Mikey grab her arm and he pulled her running into the building.

“Don’t worry guys! I’m coming!” Mikey yelled as Tina allowed herself to be pulled as she trusted Mikey to keep eyes forward while she defended their retreat. Cutting any attacking vines with her sharp wind.

Her ankle caught on the stairs that Mikey didn’t warn her about when he was pulling her. She slipped out of his grip and landed hard on her back on the vine covered stairs. The vines that were chasing them zeroed in on her, and vines broke through the walls on either side of her and pierced down at her. She immediately rolled out of the way, with the vines scratching her back.

Mikey was keeping the wave of vines away from them as Tina cut her way out of the vines that was keeping her pinned to the stairs.

Once she was up on her feet again, she yelled, “Get behind me,” as she opened her fan to fifty present wide.

Mikey did a cool backflip over her head and landed behind her. Tina then swung her fan three times at the wave of vines. The wind only cut down a few small purple-pink vines, but mostly they were pushed back like reeds against the wind. She managed to push them back with out damaging the building anymore than it already was.

“Go! Go! Go!” Tina urged Mikey up the stairs.

As they ran through the stairwell, more vines came out of the walls and attempted to spear them. Mikey jumped, dived, and slid out of the way of the attacking vines. Tina flailed, cut, and rolled through the vines.

“How are we going to fix this,” Tina shouted as she got cut by a vine that she couldn’t dodge quick enough.

“I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“We just have to get to my family. Then help Donnie and Raph with whatever plan they have,” Mikey said, dodging and hitting vines with his nunchucks.

“I can’t believe we ran in here without a plan!”

Tina cuts down a handful of purple-pink vines.

“I have a plan! It’s, help my family, then we’ll be able to take care of the vines together.”

Tina would have argued with him more if she wasn’t knocked off her feet by vines.

The two of them worked their way up to the third floor where Mikey said is where his family’s place is. Fighting up to the third floor felt more like they had to walk up all the way to the eighth floor. The two of the made it to a door that was completely covered in vines. Mikey used his nunchucks to get rid of the vines blocking his front door while Tina fought to keep the attacking vines, behind them, back.

Mikey bust through the vines and pulled Tina into the small apartment that was covered wall to wall in vines.

“Guys! April! Dad! Barry! Were here! Make some kind of noise!” Mikey called out into the studio apartment.

There was no sound. Not even the sound of people struggling against being tied up or defending themselves against the snake-like vines.

Mikey ran to look into all the studio rooms while Tina kept working on keeping the vines back, even going so far to see if they'd stop attacking if she asked nicely. That idea didn't work like she hoped, of course, but it was worth a quick shot.

Then from the single bedroom Tina heard Mikey cry out. She quickly blew back the attacking vines out the front door, and slammed it shut, knowing that, that will only give her enough time to run to the orange color coded turtle.

Tina saw Mikey kneeling before six people shaped lumps, with three of them wearing red, blue, and purple ragged masks. Orange flames started to engulf Mikey as he cried, “They’re gone. They’re all gone!”

Before Tina could even comprehend what was going on before her. Mikey had set ablaze all the vines in the immediate area with orange fire, that kept spreading. Tina felt no heat from the fire and the building itself didn’t seem to be catching fire. Only the vines seemed the be shriveling and turning to ash. Regardless, it was an upsetting scene to see.

She stared at Mikey in shock as he was surrounded by fire, until she heard him sobbing. Tina tentatively walked through the orange flames, then crouched on her knees beside him as he cried over the withering people shaped vines.

Tina sat quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever he needed to do on his own in this moment and it’s not like she wasn’t saddened by the prospect that two strangers, his brothers, and April got, got by snake like vines. She’s sure to cry about this when she’s at home in her bed, but Mikey’s more connected to these people than she’ll ever be and now she had to try and be there for him as she may be all he’ll have now.

Eventually, the flames died around him, and all that was left of the vines were black ash, but Mikey continued to cry into his hands. Every other moment he’d look up at the six ash piles and cry even harder. After a minute, when Tina was sure that his magical orange fire was gone, she placed a hand on his shell as an awkward gesture of comfort.

Instantly, Mikey turned to her and hugged her hard, like a child would hold a teddy bear when they had a nightmare. He squeaked and coughed as he tried to speak through his tears.

“We just got settled in Barry’s apartment. We were working together to try and find a new home. Why did this have to happen?”

Tina sighed as she hugged him gently back, then said, “I don’t know why. But it sucks so much and it’s unfair that this happened to you.”

Mikey sobbed as he cried into her shoulder.

They kept hugging each other until they both heard a group of voices shout out to Mikey all at once. The two teenagers turned towards the noise to see Mikey’s brothers, April, a giant pudgy rat man, and a tall purple-ish man that Tina is sure she recognizes but isn’t sure from where.

Tina immediately let go of Mikey as he scrambled to run into Raph’s arms for a big hug as Mikey said, “I—I thought you guys got killed by the weird vines!”

“No. When we left to search for you, the complex wasn’t infected by vines,” Leo said.

“That’s my bad,” Donnie said as he dropped his blue and red lensed goggles over his eyes to look around, “I guess I didn’t seal my project up as securely as I thought I did.”

“Where have you guys been? I tried calling you back,” Tina asked as she stood up and dusted off her knees, “And what kind of project do you need people shaped vines for,” she added while she pointed accusingly at Donnie.

“I'm practicing my bio engineering and I thought it’d be cool to make plant mechs. So sue me,” Donnie said, getting defensive.

“We got caught up in a situation with Big Mama,” Raph explained as he continued to hug Mikey and the rat man was patting Mikey's shell, “We were under the impression that she took our little bro.”

“I'm so sorry guys. I should've just told you where I was going,” Mikey's muffled voice said against Raph's plastron.

“Where were you? I thought you were asleep this whole time, or something,” April said, “Were you with him this entire time?”

Tina shrugged at the “entire time” bit then said, “Mikey and I were playing in a loud arcade. I didn't even feel my phone vibrate.”

“I’m just happy my son is safe. Thank you, Blondie, for being with him,” the rat man said.

Tina bowed respectfully and said, “No Problem, Mr. R.O.U.S.”

The tall purple-ish furry man in traditional Japanese robes sighed, then said, “Well, this mess isn’t going to clean itself up. I’ll go get the brooms.” Then he turned and walked away.

“I’ll go check on the neighbors,” Tina offered as she started to leave, but she was stopped by April.

“Nu-uh! Look at you. You’re bleeding. We’re taking care of all this, first.”

April grabbed Tina’s wrist and started pulling her to the bathroom.

Pulling lightly against her, Tina said, “But what about the others? They’re probably terrified after what happened in their apartments.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Leo said, “The only other neighbor that we have in this dingy apartment complex is Miss Mase on the first floor and she always goes out for bingo at night.”

Tina looked at Leo in horror at how few people are living here as April continued to pull her towards the bathroom, “What? Is this place brimming with cockroaches and lead paint or something? Jeez!”

April cleaned and patched up the scratches on Tina’s arms and back. When the girls came out of the bathroom, they saw the boys sweeping up the ashes into plastic bags. The tall pinkish-purple fuzzy guy was standing around, not moving his arms, but had vines protruding out of himself that was cleaning for him. The turtle boys were working together to sweep up, even with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. helping, who looked like he was a casualty of the vines since he was almost black with soot. The small rat guy was sitting on a recliner giving constructive advice.

Tina sighed at the sight of all the soot being everywhere, then cracking her fingers, she said, “Welp. Let’s get too it.”

Tina and April stayed until at least Barry’s apartment was cleaned up. All eight of them were tired and sooty from cleaning. Except for S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. who was trying hard to show Tina the miniature indoor scatting ramp that the boys made for him to play on.

“I better get going. It’s almost dawn and if Dad’s not awake already, he’s probably worried,” Tina said, “Are you coming with April?”

She shook her head and said, “No. My parents know I’m staying the night with the guys.”

Mikey grabbed her arm and said, “Why don’t you stay the night too. It’ll be fun.”

Yawning she pats his head with the arm he’s holding, then said, “No thank you. Thanks for offering. Good luck with those nightmares kid. I’m sure after that scare, you’re going to get hit hard with them. A bye-bye.”

She saw Mikey pout at her as she turned away from them and she heard a choir of goodbyes as she closed the apartment door behind her.

#fanfiction #oneshot #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise mikey

6 notes · View notes

thatonefrenchwitch · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3: The Agreement

Hey guys, uh, fair warning this is gonna be 17+ for some sexual tension and I made this longer than I initially planned so have fun!

TW: choking, groping, and some dirty talk from Shu

~~~

The booming voice of the mature woman froze the entire room. Josephine kept her head down in shame while Kuro and the albino let go of one another. “Did I not tell you to contact me once you were in trouble?!”

“But I wasn’t! Kuro came here to help me and I was going to make it out with Yui!”

“You call that pathetic attempt an escape?” The second son couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, how about you tend to your nose-” She looks at his face and sees it’s already healed. “Shit.” Causing a slight smile from him.

“Quiet at once!” The aunt spoke with venom. “Now, I think we can find a way to settle things, yes?” She gives a sly smile.

“And how do you think we will agree with you?” The vampire pushed up his glasses.

“Well, I’m sure your father would hate to hear about how his strong sons nearly let their bride run away. Not even mentioning the fact that you let not one, but 3 witches get into this tightly secure mansion? Oh, I don’t think so~” She giggles, knowing that they are in checkmate. “How about we check up on Yui every so often, yes?”

“Or, the chubby witch can stay here.” The sleepy one spoke.

“Chubby?!” Josie’s voice cracked. “That’s kind of mean…”

“I never said it was a bad thing.” He smirks at her, making her face go red.

“W-Wait, why would I stay here with you all?”

“Think about it, you get to keep watch on Yui, we don’t tell a word to this to anyone. Do we have a deal?”

“No” “Yes.” Josie agrees while her aunt and brother don’t. “You dumbass, they’ll kill you!”

“They won’t I have some tricks up my sleeve.” She gives a knowing look to Kuro and he chuckles. “Clever kid… Fine, you can stay with these punks.”

“But, we have conditions.” The one with glasses spoke. “First off, no more damaging property. Second, you are to attend high school with us to ensure you will be safe in our care. Third, to secure our end of the bargain we will not kill you.” He clarifies.

“Alright, sounds good to me!” Josephine smiles, unknowing of the lion’s den she’s walking into. “So, when do I move in?”

“As soon as possible.”

~~~

Hours passed as Josephine, Kuro, and Jacqie moved the young witch’s belongings into the estate. “Are you certain you want to do this, Josie? It’s not to late to back out.”

“I’m very confident in staying here.” Josephine spoke. “There might not be another chance like this ever. I want to protect Yui from their messed up ways as much as I can. When I first got here when I looked into her eyes, I knew she has been scared for so long. That, and it may give us some good information about vampires and their heirarcy.” She adds.

“You’re definatly your parents’ child.” Her aunt laughed. “Just, please keep in touch.”

“Of course, I’ll contact you through the mirror when I can!” She beams.

“If they lay a fucking finger on you I’ll make what happened to Leon look like child’s play.”

“Oh my god, psycho, I’ll be fine.” She laughed at her brother’s remark. “Besides, I’m certain they won’t do anything bad to me.” Oh, how she couldn’t be more wrong.

~~~

A couple more hours passed and her room was set up. Little succulents placed on bookshelves with various books from childhood and current. Some journals placed on her desk. A stuffed white rabbit sits on her bed with a pink blanket for comfort. It didn’t take long for a vampire to knock on her door. “It’s open.” She says as she admires her handiwork.

“I see you settled in. It looks… Cozy.” He makes a mental note of all the herbs she has around.

“Thank you…” She paused. “I’ve never got any of your names.”

“Oh, that’s right… How rude of me.” He cleared his throat in embarassment and pushed up his glasses. “My name is Reiji, I’m the second eldest. My deadbeat older brother, Shu, is the blonde one that is always sleeping. Laito, the second youngest, is the one in the hat that you threw into the wall. The who knocked you out, Subaru, is the youngest one. Kanato is the 3rd youngest. He is the one you referred to as “repulsive”. So that makes Ayato, the other red haired one.”

“So it goes Shu, you, Ayato, Kanato, Laito, and Subaru..” She notes out loud.

“Correct, you catch on quickly.” He peers down at her.

“Yes, thank you for noticing.” She rolls her eyes.

“My, I see we still need to work on our manners.” He scoffs. “I gave you a complement, you should be grateful.”

“Greatful?” She laughs at him. “I know my own intelligence, thank you. I did not want to pull this out, however, I will if I must.” She shakes her head as he looks at her with shock. How dare a witch speak to him like this, does she not know his status?! “I am skilled in 4 languages, I’m knowledgeable in herbology, and I am starting to learn about death magic. So, it would be best not to treat me like I’m one of your chamber maids, understood?” As soon as she finished that sentence she felt a hand around her throat.

“You don’t know when to simply shut up, do you? I’m afraid your tongue will get in you into plenty of trouble here if you do not control yourself.” He squeezes it to get his point across, smiling at the way she gasps and wraps her hands around his wrist, trying to pry him off. “What’s wrong?” He mocks her. “Is it getting hard to breathe?” Reiji couldn’t help but laugh at her state. A wonderful mix of pain, fear, and anger seeping off of her.

“Let me go, please!” She chokes out, gasping for air, hoping just a little to get into her lungs.

“Oh, so you do know manners! What a pleasant surprise.” He chuckles and lets go of her, causing her to wheeze as she gasped. “Next time, use them more. I might not be so kind and let go.” He gave a sly smirk before disappearing from her sight.

“Fucking bastard.” She rubs her neck in pain. That really hurt! I need to take a bath. Get his gross touch off of me. She sighs before heading into her bathroom and seeing someone laying in her bathtub. “Oh come on!” She yells in annoyance, causing him to open an eye and close it.

“Oh, it’s you.” He says quietly.

“Yeah, no duh.” She crosses her arms. “It’s almost like this is my bathroom.” Her voice laced in sarcasm, causing him to laugh slightly.

“C’mon, what happened to manners, hmm?” He smiles a little, causing her face to light up in a shade of red.

“You heard all that?! Why were you listening to us?!” She yells.

“Lower your voice, you’re being too loud. I was just trying to take a nap here, it’s not like I was trying to easedrop.” He sighs. “However, with you two bickering it’s hard not to. Did you think I was wanting to listen to you do something else, hmm?” He cocks a brow at her.

“Distgusting!” She scoffs at him and goes to turn on the water and grab the shower head and spray him. “Go on. Get.” She tried to scurry him off like a wild animal in someon’e yard.

“You really think this is going to work.”

“Yes, get the fuck out.” She snaps at him, going to make the water colder.

“... You do realize we don’t care about temperature, right?” He laughs at her. “What happened to you being so smart?” He makes fun of her. “Was it just an act? Are you secretly just a stupid little girl?” She chokes up a bit.

“Shut up and just leave, okay.” She turns off the water, Shu’s body moving up to reach for her and pull her in. Causing a yelp of shock to leave her. Clothes getting wet as he holds her close to his cold and wet body. “H-Hey let go!” She shifts around.

“No, why should I?” He looks down at her, loving the look of embarrassment and nervousness on her face. “Heh, that look on your face, it looks so cute on you.” His hands move to rest on her plush hips. Eying the way her breasts press against his chest. “You look so innocent and sweet but with this body of yours… Makes you look gorgeous.”

“Ugh, stop it, you just want to get into my pants.” She tries to push against him on his chest.

“No, I was just speaking the truth. Although that perverted little thought you had was partially true, I can’t help but want to keep a girl like you close.” His fingers dig into her flesh, making her wince. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He whispered in her ear. “Witch or not, women with curvy bodies like yours, drive me insane. Seeing you tied up in that chair and trying to put on a brave face while being so scared was tempting.” His hands crept to hold onto the globes of her ass, a small gasp leaving her.

“And those cute little sounds you make, are so sweet.” He laughs at her nervousness. “It makes me want to draw out more from you. Bite you in the most pleasurable and painful places on your body to see and hear your reactions. I’m sure you’re a little pain slut, right?” He smirks down at her.

“What the fuck?! No! I’m not- Mmph!” He quickly shut her up with a kiss, holding her by the back of her head to make sure she can’t break away. After a little bit he lets her pull away with a laugh. “Why the hell did you do that?!” She yells at him while trying to get up. Thankfully he lets go.

“Just to see you mad.” He smiles and before she could snap back, he was gone.

“... Is this house just full of perverts?!” She yells into the air.

Since he was gone and finally had a moment to herself, she brushed to teeth immediately to get the taste off her lips. Wanting to forget the way he pressed her body close to his own. She undresses and hops into the shower, praying silently to remove the feeling of both of the elder brother’s hands on hers. Shivering as she remembers how long and big their hands felt against her. Shu’s being a bit more rough feeling on the tips as he groped her and felt her up. Meanwhile, Reiji’s long fingers felt softer even though they were covered by the cloth of his glove. Get it together Josephine! You are not going to let these idiots get the best of you! All they wanted was a reaction and they left so just forget what those clowns did! You’re not going to be a pervert and think about how their hands felt on you! Once she finished her shower she got out, dried off, and put on some clothes before combing and putting some product in her hair. Opting to wear a simple mock turtleneck shirt, a cardigan, and a simple black skirt.

“Hey, Josephine, can I come in?”

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #dl oc #diabolik oc #oc lore #diabolik brothers #diabolik lovers reiji #diabolik lovers shu #reiji sakamaki #shu sakamaki

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oh-yes-i-did-not · 1 year

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For some reason I’ve been going down a memory lane and even remembering stuff I’d forgotten. While I’m the infuriating agnostic-atheist fence sitter that everyone hates these days, both religious and non-religious people, I was brought up Lutheran. And while I don’t remember one moment of believing in something I can’t see, hear, feel, or touch, it was pretty much the only free option to do anything after school, and thus the one that my mom couldn’t control. Like, she really, REALLY loved the spiel of “if you don’t behave and do things up to my standards then we won’t be paying for this” and somehow nothing was ever good enough for her so I had no paid hobbies, end of.

So anyways, I spent a shit ton of time at church and in church activities as a kid. I kinda felt bad about it at times, but also, not really. My personal beliefs didn’t matter to them anyways, just that I showed up and did shit. And if ended up being the receiving older kid on some kid’s personal musings? Well, agnosticism is not exactly... hhhh, I wanna say judged, but I also grew in the bible belt of my country and where most of the small sects and cults came from, so I wouldn’t say it was ever the safe option. But there is no official word against it afaik. And the whole “cool, hip, young pastors” was a thing back then so I don’t think they minded anyways. So if I asked the kids to think about some things on their own, where’s the harm?

The only time I really regret, and it wasn’t even my fault, was when I was leading a camp group at... well, it’s kinda hard to explain Finnish Lutheran practices to foreigners, but we do this thing called confirmation as the age of 14-15. It’s preceded by a religious indoctrination camp where we spend a week in some remote place with only priests and pastors and a handful of other kids, older teens, who act as camp group leaders. And the whole point is to learn as much about bible and then test on it like you were in a school.

So anyways, one day we got assignments to write group works about angels. And my group (the group I was leading as an older, already confirmed teen, just to clarify, I was not a member going through confirmation) for one reason or another, personal or no, they decided to write about the trauma of a child dying and then the family having the comfort of knowing that child is now an angel, watching over them all. It was a group of 5 teenagers and they all decided to write about that. It was pretty damned important to them, okay?

The priest residing over just nodded and we all thought it was good, we did good.

But that weekend? On Sunday sermon? That same priest preached about the heresy of believing mere humans could become angels, the horrible thought that gods created angels could be tainted by humanity. I was mortified. And I was also just a teen myself so I don’t think I handled it well. I actually don’t even remember what I said to my group or what I did, but I don’t think it was anything helpful. I was just so, absolutely, horrified by what the priest said.

Like, I have some religious trauma, that included, but little of it comes from the small circles of church I mostly interacted with as a kid and a teen, okay? It was a pretty nice place but also, the adults there sheltered me from a LOT. Just that when I got older, the less handful of people could protect me. Even the fact that I could walk into the church office at 18, resigning from church, and the people there being all “okay, that’s fine, just sign here” with smiles, is not that common, I later learned. The fact that eroakirkosta.fi exists is for a reason. It’s not always that easy. I could do it in person, my partner later on absolutely could not.

This is all just to empathize that while you can have a good time in a church environment and the people around you are nice and accepting, that is not the case for everyone. And while I don’t have statistics about anything, I would go as far as wager that it’s not so in majority of parishes. It’s just a rough estimation between me and all the people I know who had the exact opposite experiences. ‘Cause I’m pretty alone in this category of “had some good times, some disturbing times, took advantage, then left lmao” category.

And yes, I do believe people telling me they did not have the same experiences as me. Why would I not?

#church #christianity #evangelical lutherans #lutheran church

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space-caramella · 2 years

Text

Right so i dont always know how to word things properly and im prolly gonna have a bunch of people disagree with me cause this can vary from person to person, and like thats valid, but it been bothering me so pls hear me out.

Telling someone to ‘seek therapy’ during a moment when they are in emotional or mental distress isn’t usually the helpful wake-up call you think it is.

Now let me clarify, because i know what this might sound like. No, telling someone to seek help and therapy when they might need it doesn’t make you a villain. Wanting somebody to get the support they need isn’t inherently ‘wrong’.

But tbh, the thing that so many people fail to do, especially online, is to bring that kind of topic up tactfully.

Like i’m not even talking about the people who tell actual strangers online to ‘get help lmao’, though that honestly bugs the fuck out of me too. I’m talking about real friends, my friends, and several loved ones for that matter who, when confronted with someone they care about crying, proceed to apathetically tell them “have you thought about getting therapy?”

Like, even if you’re absolutely certain that they benefit from therapy, do not bring it up like that while they’re distressed, like holy shit??

Seriously, the amount of times i’ve seen people just casually whip out the ‘therapy’ card before having even asked what’s wrong is just.. upsetting to me tbh. And yeah it can work out just fine and be genuinely helpful but like, can some of y’all at least make sure your loved one is comforted and mentally in a better place before you bring up something as serious as therapy? There’s the whole ‘im your friend, not your therapist’ mindset, and then there’s just being a shitty friend imo.

Also, and i can’t believe i even have to say this but.. just straight up assuming someone isn’t already in therapy or at least looking into it is just a straight up stupid move. As is assuming that you are correct about their situation in general and/or diagnosing them yourself. Like seriously if you’re going to be this tactless and not even ask then don’t be surprised when your ‘help’ isn’t appreciated. Your unwanted advice is just harmful and offensive.

But going back to my point, i know therapy as a concept is a lot more normalized than it used to be. And that’s amazing, don’t get me wrong! It’s a great help to many. However.. therapy is, for a lot of people, still a very touchy or controversial topic. Not in a ‘therapy bad’ kind of way, but.. in a very personal way. Bringing up therapy to someone unprompted, at all, might just make them feel as if there’s something wrong with them. Like they need to be fixed or more ‘normal’. And, hell, even if you think they do, suggesting someone need that amount of help can still be insulting or even scary, especially if they don’t feel at all heard or understood. That alone is reason enough to at least be careful and patient before bringing it up. Like, again, make sure they’re alright before you even mention it.

Tact makes all the difference between therapy being viewed as help, or viewed as punishment.

#long post #sorry for the rant #maybe im the only person thats bother by this or had bad experiences #but idk

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miscelunaaa · 2 years

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booty jorts | knj

pairing: namjoon x female reader

genre: smut, established relationship au, the plot is so thin it’s see through

summary: Namjoon looses a bet and his punishment turns out to be more stimulating than you expect.

rating: 18+ for filth

word count: 2.3k

warnings: Lost bets. Swearing. Big Beautiful Joon in the tiniest of clothes. Jorts. Sex in a public one-seater bathroom. Pet names. Mild degradation (use of the word slut). Blow jobs. Dom Namjoon. Female masturbation. Dirty talk. Choking on a dick and liking it, but no actual deep throating. Face-fucking I guess?? Size kink because it’s Namjoon, what do you want from me. Unprotected Sex within an established relationship. Praise kink! Sex in a sitting position with the receiving partner on top. Squirting. Cream pie. Little bit of post sex cuddling if you squint.

notes: Inspiration is weird, y’all. @herecomesjoon dropped this video into a chat, saying “too bad bts hasn’t gotten in on this trend,” and all I said in response was something like “haha jooty shorts” and then well … this happened? I’ve been in a sort of strange place with my writing over the past week; I’ve been hopping between wips with careless abandon and have been thinking too hard about my work without actually doing any work. So, this was actually kind of clarifying to write in a lot of ways. I still think it’s hilarious that I’m not really capable of writing pwp without having sneaking in some sort of relationship-y stuff into the mix, so this was interesting to write in that regard. I’m still learning about myself and my process, and that’s okay. With all that said, happy reading! Here’s some unbridled Namjoon thirst!

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

“This is fucking embarrassing.”

“It’s no one’s fault but your own that you lost the bet.”

“Yeah, but these clothes are … Well, they’re really small.”

“Uh, yeah, they’re Jimin’s. He’s smaller than you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Joon, I’m sure it’s fine.”

The door to the bookstore bathroom swings open. Your jaw drops.

“It’s really not, sweetheart.”

You, frankly, have to disagree. He wasn’t lying about the smallness of the clothes Jimin had dug out of his car. But this … Wow. You’re not sure where to start but, good fucking god, you have to start somewhere.

“See, I told you,” Namjoon groans. “This is stupid, I don’t have to put up with this. I’m putting my own clothes back on.”

“N-no.”

“What?” He’s incredulous.

You can’t help your faltering words. His thighs, thick and muscular from riding his bike everywhere, look like they’re about to split the thin stretch-denim. And the garment is tiny, to the point of being positively lewd. That inseam can’t be more than three inches, and well, your partner is packing. Always. There is no way to hide the fact that he’s been gifted with a very generous dick. Fuck. Is he even wearing underwear under those shorts? Is his ass hanging out the back?

“Sweetheart, my eyes are up here.”

You burn with embarrassment, but it gets worse, which is to say that somehow, it gets even better.

As your eyes trail up from the booty shorts, you see the flat expanse of his stomach. The sight of the little trail of hair that dips down beneath the waistband makes your toes curl. Then you see his belly button and the slight indent in his flesh that separates the two sides of his abdominal muscles. It disappears into a comically tiny tank top that ties in a knot at the front. The material is stretched to its limit over his broad chest and oh, he must be cold because his nipples are erect underneath the knit fabric. Titillating.

“Still up here,” he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

You’re afraid to look him in the eyes at this point, though you know you have to. You’re just not sure you can handle him seeing you this turned on by Jimin’s punishment outfit. When he finds out you like something, he always turns it around on you; you’re not sure you can handle an evening of him teasing and torturing you while you’re out drinking with your friends.

“Baby, look at me.”

The hair at the back of your neck raises, goosebumps erupting up and down your entire body. The reaction to his voice, so deep and soft and intense, is immediate. He knows. He knows and he’s about to make your life hell for the next six hours. You wrench your gaze away from his pecs and up to his eyes.

Oh.

Those big brown eyes, your ultimate weakness, are filled to the brim with lust. Hooded, potent with the kind of power that makes you want to either sink to your knees or turn around and pull your skirt up so he can take you right there. Anything. When he looks at you like this, you’re willing to give him anything he wants, happily. Gladly. With fervor.

But this goes two ways.

You can see the way he’s shifting his weight between his feet, the tiny denim shorts stretched to their absolute limit by the movement. Fuck, the denim’s looking even tighter. He’s half hard already. If anymore blood rushes to his crotch, he’ll pop out of the fucking shorts. Your entire body throbs with need at the thought

Without thinking, you push him back into the bathroom, the heavy door clicking closed behind you. You throw the bolt lock as the fluorescent light flickers on and the fan whirs to life overhead. Perfect, you’ll need a bit of white noise to drown out what you’re about to do. Thank god this store keeps their bathrooms clean. You drop to your knees.

The intensity of Namjoon’s gaze falters. “W-what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

You look up at him as you reach to undo the button of the tiny shorts. His expression makes you pause.

“I can stop.” You don’t add any qualifiers. You’re sure you want to do this, but you don’t want to sway him. If he wants you to beg, he’ll make you beg; you’re not about to ask him to do something he doesn’t want to do.

“You’re sure you want this?” His hands are clenched at his sides, the muscles of his abdomen and legs tensed and hard underneath his golden skin.

“Please. I need you,” you murmur.

“Fine. Take my cock out then, slut.”

Your fingers are shaking when you undo the button and ease the zipper down. He’s not wearing anything underneath, just as you thought. With some care, you push the shorts down a little, that way the zipper won’t catch on the thin skin at his groin. His cock springs out when you do this, even harder than it was mere moments before. With a few pumps, he’s fully erect, flushed dark and ready to be used or use you.

Both. It’s always both, a two-way street with you and Namjoon, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You guide him into your mouth with one hand, giving the head an experimental lick. And then another. And then—

“Baby girl, don’t play your games right now. We don’t have time for that.”

Fine, you can make this quicker. You take his cock into your mouth as far as you can, sputtering around the girth as it hits your throat. He groans above you, his hands relaxing and coming up to hold your head. The gesture makes your cunt clench. You love it when he uses you; this is always how it starts.

“Relax, baby. Hands down, touch yourself for me.” Obeying him comes easy. Your hand slips under the skirt of your dress; you can’t even feel the cold, hard tile underneath your knees anymore. Temperature means nothing when the entire space is sweltering with the heat between you and Namjoon. The room swims a little as you start circling your fingertips around your clit. You moan around his cock, and he groans above you.

“Such a slut for me, baby girl. You just can’t go a minute without having this cock in your mouth, can you?”

He gives an experimental thrust into your mouth, the head of his cock gently hitting your throat and making you choke a little. It feels amazing, your entire body clenches and surges with arousal, as he stops, holding your head still as your eyes water and you try to recover. His groan as he looks down at you choking on his cock sends you into the stratosphere. It gets you every time. You fucking love it.

And yet, he doesn’t pull out, instead moving in and out of your mouth steadily, almost like a machine. All the while, the arousal pools in your belly as you work your clit, dipping your fingers into your folds to collect some of the wetness to keep everything slippery and pleasurable. God, this is so hot. You could die happily like this, right here, right now. Your grandma would be scandalized, but that’s a small price to pay.

“Fuck.”

Namjoon, once hesitant to start down this sequence of events, is perhaps even more aroused than you are. He hits your throat again, your chest heaves, your cunt clenches, you groan around his flesh, and he gets somehow even harder. His size is intimidating to begin with, but he’s so fucking hard now it’s almost shocking. Before you can even think about getting ready to swallow his cum, he’s pulling you off his cock.

“If I have to walk around in these fucking shorts tonight, you’re walking around with my cum inside you,” he growls, pulling you to sit on his lap as he sits on the rickety storage bench against the wall. His thighs are so thick, his hips so wide, that straddling him makes you feel even more open and vulnerable than the whole “quick fuck in a public bathroom” thing. All you want is for him to split you open.

It seems that’s his plan as well. Normally, he tries to prep you a little, just because he’s big enough to hurt without some prep. He’s not worried, it seems, not this time. He pulls the gusset of your underwear to the side, and then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Without a second thought, without thinking about anything but what he’ll feel like seeping into your underwear later, you sink down onto his cock.

For a moment, you’re seeing nothing but stars. The stretch is intense, toeing the delicious line between pain and pleasure that makes every cell in your body sing. For a moment, neither of you move, too lost in the moment to feel anything else but each other.

Namjoon’s hands grip to your ass, palming the flesh underneath your clothes, spreading your cheeks as if it’ll make you sink even further down onto his cock. Whether or not it actually works like that doesn’t matter; it just makes you feel more open, more vulnerable. He starts rocking you over his lap, and you take the hint. You’re so far into your arousal that grinding down onto his length is automatic.

“If you’re so needy, bounce on my cock, baby. Show my how much you want my cum,” he says, moving his hands so that he’s got one wrapped around you, supporting you at the base of your spine. The other has moved to start rubbing gently against your clit, making you tighten around him. He groans.

“Fill me up so good, Joon,” you whine as you buck your hips. The heat pooling within you is heady. Every pulsing inch of his cock is dragging against your quivering heat, filling the pool even further.

“You’re so tight, holy shit,” Namjoon grunts, his eyes closing as his head falls back against the wall. “Jorts really do it for you?”

“They made your cock look so good. I couldn’t help it.”

“Such a perfect slut for this cock,” he says. The praise has you reeling. He comes forward to kiss you, his plush lips fitting against yours, swallowing your whimpers.

“I’m so close.”

“Mmm, of course you are, baby girl. Gonna come on my cock?”

“Mmhm.”

There’s no way the fan covers up your moans, nor the grunts that Namjoon is making into your neck now as he struggles to hold his ground.

“Gonna take my cum like a good girl?” He mouths up your collarbone as he says this, leaving sloppy kisses at your pulse point.

You can’t do it any more, you can’t fight the way your pleasure spills over and suddenly you’re clamping down on his length. The first thrum has you releasing a wave of fresh wetness before your cunt begins to pulse as you let out a high, aching moan.

Namjoon is right behind you. Both of his hands are on your hips as he pushes into you for one last thrust and comes, his cock twitching for several seconds as he empties himself deep into your pulsing heat.

You let yourself fall forward to rest on his chest. His heart is racing, his skin flushed and red from the exertion and from finding the high of an orgasm.

You’re sure you look no better, cum leaking out of you and onto his lap as he softens slowly.

“Wow,” he finally says. He starts rubbing comforting circles into your back. His voice is low, but warm; all comfort and none of the dominating tone from before. “You okay, baby?”

“Mmm, yeah, that was amazing,” you say, pulling away to give him a quick kiss before carefully standing and stepping back.

Namjoon’s a mess, and it’s all centered around his crotch. The little front-tied crop top is okay, if not a little sweaty, but the little shorts are soaked in bodily fluids from you squirting and then leaking Namjoon’s cum. Damn, if he doesn’t look hot as hell like this though, still reddened and glistening and content.

“So, the jorts are ruined,” he laughs, his smile growing wide. You’d missed his dimples during the scuffle, too horny to stop and laugh about the absurdity of this encounter.

“Yeah, Jimin’s never getting those shorts back. Ever. They’re yours now. You’ve marked your territory all over them.”

“You did too,” he teases. “I’m not even sure if they were his to begin with, though. He’d never wear jorts.”

As you wipe yourself down with some paper towels, Namjoon gets up and shimmies out of the denim so he can get cleaned up. When he goes to throw them away however, you stop him.

“We should keep them. I meant it.”

“Ew, why? They’re covered in goo now.”

“First of all, never refer to your cum as goo ever again, and second, they were sexy as hell on you.”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh again. “Sweetheart, how on earth are they sexy? They’re jorts.”

“Look! I don’t know!! I can’t explain it! They were so tiny and tight and your thighs looked so juicy and thick and—”

He stops you before you can continue. “In that case, how about we order some online? If you liked them that much, then we can just order a pair of our own.”

“Make it five pairs, and you’ve got a deal. I will likely want to thoroughly ruin them every time you wear them, so having extra would be ideal,” you explain.

“Of course, baby,” he purrs. “You can ruin me in jorts any time.”

“Great! While we’re spending money, we should probably blow a bunch of money on books while we’re here to make up for the fact that we just boinked in their bathroom.”

“Deal. Meet you in the the psychology section?”

You seal the deal with a kiss. “See you in a few.”

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

posted: 4.17.2022 (Happy Easter I guess??)

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