#when i want to give up i think about all the ‘you shoulda raised a baby girl i should have been a better son’ videos i haven’t seen yet

[future-crab]

The world can be a cruel and unforgiving place, but also it contains so many videos of Gerard Way holding the mic out to the crowd during the line “You should’ve raised a baby girl I should’ve been a better son”

[alwaysobsessed777]

SAILOR SONG PT. 1 - N.M.

**this is my first time writing on here so please cut me some slack.**

Words: 1014

Warnings: None other than it being sad (sorry)

Summary: Slowly falling in love with Nika. Things just seem to be going so perfectly, but nothing last forever....

I saw her in the rightest way

Nika Mühl. Where could I even start. Seeing her in the hallways, on the court, in the few classes we had; I wanted nothing more than to talk to her. She always seemed so perfect. I would never reach whatever planet she had all to herself.

My day was going as usual, except the fact she had moved seats in Psychology. Instead of sitting with some of her teammates, she moved beside me. Something about the way she threw her stuff down, she was sitting her out of frustration. It wasn't because she wanted to. I dropped my head, not looking in her direction. She wouldn't talk to me anyway.

"Hey," A small accent coming out with the word, "I shoulda asked but can I sit here for today?"

I nodded, not able to look at her. She shuffled in her seat, uncomfortable I could assume.

"I'm Nika by the way," She lifted her hand, wanting me to shake it.

I smiled, lifting my head to see a similar one on her's, "y/n."

Her smile grew, our hands meeting, "Cute name."

Instead of listening to the lecture, she talked to me. She asked me questions, she let me ask her questions. It was back and forth. Never in a million years did I think I would talk to her, but here I was.

"So, I can sit here tomorrow?" She asked, my brows raising, "If you don't want me too that's fine I ju-"

"No, I want you too," I cut her off, "It was nice talking to someone for once."

She smiled, "Well, I had fun talking to you too, y/n." She slid me a piece of paper, folded neatly her handwriting showing slightly from the ink bleeding through.

"What's this?"

"Just open it, I'll see you tomorrow," She waved, walking out.

I sat there stunned, I had spoke to The Nika Mühl. Not only did I talk to her, she gave me her number. The small note, there on that piece of paper was her number. Her name under it with a small heart beside it.

And then, she came up to my knees. Begging, baby, would you please? Do the things you said you'd do to me, to me

After sometime of talking and getting to know Nika, I found out she had a boyfriend. He was cool. He played basketball. He was made for her. She'd talk to me about him on our daily walks, something we started a week into being friends. She's complain that he seemed perfect, but she didn't want perfect. She wanted something real.

When they'd argue, which was becoming often, she'd come to me. She'd talk about how'd she wanted someone to listen to her, to actually want her.

"I would," I blurted out. Her eyes widened.

"You would what?"

"I would treat you so much better. I would give you everything. I would listen to you, talk to you, want you, everything," My face began to heat up, my cheeks burning.

"I know you would," She smiled, "That's why you'd make an amazing girlfriend to some girl one day."

I wanted that girl to be her, Nika. I kept that to myself. Sometimes I would hope I would just tell her to break up with her boyfriend, find her someone better, find me. I couldn't though.

One day, she came to me, crying.

"What's wrong, Niks?"

"Naheim," I rolled my eyes, "I know, but I think I'm done with him."

My face wanted to show every emotion, the smile trying to creep up, my eyes wanting to light up with joy, but I couldn't. Not right now.

"What happened?"

"I caught him," She broke, "He was with another girl."

I sighed, holding my arms out, "Come here." She listened, making her way into my arms. How could one mess something up with the perfect woman.

"You should show me," To say the least, I was confused.

"What?"

"I want you, y/n, to show me how you would treat me. You said you would do it better then he could," I was shocked.

"Nik-"

"Please, I honestly just need to feel loved by someone. He's just made me feel so...so...usless," I broke, I knew I loved her, I knew it. But, this seemed like she didn't want to reciprocate the feelings. She just wanted them to be sent her way. I couldn't say no to her though, it was Nika.

"Okay," I brought us to my couch, simply opening my arms for here to make her way to me. She smiled through teary eyes, laying on top of me, her head snuggled into the crook of my neck.

Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

It almost felt real, I think it was real. The way she held my hand during the couple of classes we had. The hangouts becoming sleepovers, laying in each others arms through the night. We had never kissed, but I wanted to. I really wanted to.

"Hey, Nika?"

"Yes, y/n?"

"Can I kiss you?" Her eyes widened, shock apparent on her face, "Or not it's cool, I jus-"

She pulled me into her, our lips meeting. It felt so right, she felt right. The way her lips moved with mine. Her body on mine. I've wanted this, and it was exactly how I've always imagined it.

"Was that good?"

"More than good," I paused, I wanted more, "It was perfect."

I pulled her in for another one, a longer, deeper one. Her soft lips moving against my lips. It felt like they were made for each other. The act felt like a drug, I never wanted to stop. I flipped us, her on her back, I over top of her. Her eyes scanned my face, biting her lip slightly.

"Is something wrong?" I was worried I'd gone too far.

"No," She smiled, "I think I love you."

My heart fluttered, beating out of my chest, "I think I love you too."

Her arms snaked around my neck, her hands making their way through my hair. She pulled me in for another, and another, and another. That's all we did that night, we kissed. It was like we were both addicted, we were each other's drug.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: First time writing on here, I'm kinda excited. Hope you guys like this. Totally expect more from me on here. (I felt there needed to be more stories with Nika)

[siiiiideblooooog]

A/B/O Snippet

Gale’s hand was warm where it cupped John’s neck as they meandered back towards barracks.

“You imagine it? Kenny thought he’d have two by 20! Still a kid himself.” John shook his head in disbelief and Gale hummed. It wasn’t unusual, really. Many of the omegas John grew up with ended up wed and bred too young. “Tell you what, though, my ma would take him over me any day.”

“Yeah?” Gale’s grip on him tightened as John started to wander, reeling him back into Gale’s side. Where he wanted to be anyway so he didn’t complain. It was rare they got quiet moments alone like this and John intended to enjoy every second of this walk.

“Oh yeah. She would give anything for me to have bonded straight outta college and popped out three kids for her to dote on.” John grinned over at his alpha, but Gale wasn’t smiling back. It was funny, the things that could no longer hurt you but could still hurt the people who loved and cared about you. John hardly thought about his parents’ disapproval anymore. “Don’t you know I’m practically a spinster? I think she’s given up on ever getting me mated. Once I enlisted it was all over.”

“You want kids, though.” It wasn’t a question, but John answered anyway.

“Course I do. Kids, bonding, the whole shebang. Just never found an alpha who wanted to give it to me.” He winked at Gale, the until now unspoken. Gale rewarded him with a warm smile and a light squeeze over his bonding gland. It sent a pleasurable spark through his body. “’Sides, I was never in any rush. What about you?”

“I figured I might be mated by now, but no kids yet, probably. I’d want a little time with it just my omega and me.” Gale’s gaze bored into the side of John’s face like a physical touch but he ignored it willfully, keeping his eyes on the darkening sky. The smell of petrichor and sweet peaches danced through the air, filling John’s nose and flooding his mouth with saliva. Nothing better on the goddamn Earth than the smell of his happy alpha. “Definitely want kids though. A few, I think.”

“Mated young, a whole litter of kids at your feet, some fresh-faced omega to raise your pups and have dinner on the table when you get home?” John ignored a slight ache in his chest in favor of a cheeky smile. It was easy to imagine, this future of Gale’s. If any alpha deserved such a picturesque life straight out of the magazines, it was Gale Cleven.

“Something like that,” said Gale, supremely unbothered by John’s teasing. John let his feet carry him slightly off to the side just so Gale would tug him back close. The alpha didn’t disappoint.

“Shoulda gotten yourself an omega like Kenny while you had the chance,” John teased. Gale stopped still, right in the middle of the darkened road, nearly tripping John up as he jerked them both to a halt. John looked back at him confused and a little disoriented at the sudden loss of a warm palm on his nape. Gale fixed John with a stern look.

“Do I seem like I am hard up for choice when it comes to omegas?” he asked, voice even but with a steel undertone. A shiver went up John’s spine and he grinned. Gale was cocky so rarely—about something other than his flying that is—that John couldn’t help but revel in it.

He indulged himself with a long look at his alpha, thick blonde hair down to his polished boots. Gale was everything an alpha should be: handsome, polished, strong.

“No you do not,” he admitted.

Gale stepped in close and snaked an arm around John’s waist to tug him into the line of Gale’s body. They fit perfectly, as always, pressed together chest to knee. John squirmed a little, just to feel the hard planes of his alpha against him. Gale leaned in, their lips separated by only a wisp of air. John could taste him. Petrichor and peaches.

“If I wanted an omega like Lemmons, I’d have one.”

[the-ace-with-spades]

this is part two of this angsty post about Baby Bradley (you might wanna read it first, just to make sense of this part) - Slider POV

It’s late, too late, when he hears the front opening. He is instantly on alert — Shay’s been sleeping for two hours now, conked out by a whole day at work and cooking up a baby inside her — because it’s too late for visitors.

He almost hits Baby Goose with a baseball bat.

Bradley is taking his shoes off, the spare key they have in the flower pot at the front stairs lying near his backpack. His hands are covered in dirt and he’s looking at Ron with his doe eyes wide.

Everyone says he’s Goose’s mirror image but when he stands there, curly hair getting too long again and messy, with those innocent big eyes and head tilted back, all Ron sees is Carole.

It always makes him melt into a puddle, too.

“Do your folks know you’re here?” Ron will take the dead silence as a no. “How did you even get here?”

Bradley is allowed to take the bus on his own, now that they live in one, stable place and Mav had gone on the three major routes with him — the bus to school, to Ron and Sarah’s house, and to the base.

Ice still insists on driving him around everywhere, just because he is such a control freak.

Bradley’s voice is barely hearable and he isn’t meeting Ron’s eyes as he admits, “I walked.”

They don’t leave that far away — less than two miles — but an eleven-year-old should not be walking around alone on the streets past nine.

Ron takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m going to call Ice—”

“He’s at work,” Bradley interrupts, because of course he does — he always has an answer, growing into the mini Maverick that he is.

“Then I’ll call Mav,” Ron counters.

“He’s asleep.”

“Then you shoulda thought about that before you walked here at one in the morning,” Ron points out before he steps back into the kitchen to grab the phone off the wall.

Midway through the kitchen floor, still in the dark since he forgot to turn on the light, Ron feels a weight hanging onto his pajama sleeve. “Do you have to call him?”

“Buddy,” Ron says because he’s so weak against those big brown eyes but can’t just let Bradley get away with everything. What he did was dangerous. He could have gotten hit by a car, kidnapped, or lost, or—Ron doesn’t even want to think about all the things that could’ve happened.

“I promise I’ll go back home before Mav wakes up,” Bradley pleads.

That’s really not the problematic part in the whole situation. “And what about when Ice comes home and goes to check on you and you’re not there?”

Bradley turns his head away and mumbles under his breath, “He won’t.”

“He won’t what?”

“He won’t do that,” he says, eyes on the floor.

And Ron doesn’t know what it is but there’s just something in his voice, in the way it cracks despite being so quiet, and in his posture, the way he raises his shoulders like a guard — and it’s make something under skin crawl.

“Bradley, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles, turning away from him.

Ron is weak. He is getting bigger and bigger but he is still so tiny it feels like Ron could fit him in the palms of his hands. He looks even smaller, now, coiled up against Ron’s leg like he wants to turn invisible.

“Okay, you can stay the night—”

“Really?”

Ron would scold himself for falling for it, again, but Bradley’s eyes, even with the excitement in his voice, don’t lose the sad tinge completely.

“But only on the condition that I’ll call Mav anyway and tell him where you are,” Ron says, kind of proud of himself for not giving in completely. “And you have to get up bright and early tomorrow—today, so we can take you to school on time.”

He waves his hand, just so those doe eyes go away before he caves in completely. 

“Go get your jammies and make those pearly whites—”

“You’re talking to me like I’m five again,” Bradley says and Ron holds back a smile.

“You gotta deal with it, kid,” he says, shushing him upstairs. “Go, I’ll call Mav.”

Ice’s house (and Mav’s, no that he’d call it that, ever, Maverick will never be his brother-in-law, even if they actually get married someday, he's going to be at best a menace-in-law) is on their speed dial as number one.

He’s expected to wait a few minutes on the line, until Mav wakes up and strides huffing and puffing into the kitchen to pick up the phone, but he barely gets the second tone and hears, “Hello?”

“Mav—”

“Slider, this isn’t a good time, Bradley is—”

“—here,” Ron finishes for him. “He’s here, Mav, showed up about ten minutes ago. Says he walked here.”

“What?” Mav spits out. “I was about to call the goddamn police! Ice, I was about to call Ice!”

Ron’ll never admit it but he agrees that Ice probably would throw a bigger manhunt than the police if he found out Bradley was missing.

“Look, he doesn’t want to go home—”

“Oh, hell no, he’s coming home now, I’m getting my keys—”

“I already promised him he can stay the night,” Ron cuts in, feeling a headache coming.

“You can’t promise him stuff like that!”

Ron might be a dad-to-be only, but he can understand why Mav is pissed off. He certainly would prefer if his kid that he thought was missing came back home so he could at least see that he is safe and in one piece and maybe so he can ground his ass but Bradley—there’s just something off.

“What, do you want me to send him home so he runs off again to some unknown place in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, he can try,” Mav says. “Even if he somehow managed to sneak out again, I’ll now know where he is. I’m going to take my chances.”

“I don’t think he’ll come back here again, not knowing I sold him out to you and let you take him back home,” Ron says. He can hear Mav groan into the phone in frustration and he gets it, he really does, but— “He looks upset, Mav, okay, I don’t know what happened but he wouldn’t have sneaked out on a whim, you know that.”

It takes him fifteen minutes and about a dozen promises to talk Mav into letting Bradley stay the night — he knows Mav probably won’t sleep a blink anyway — but finally, Ron settles on making them some tea so they can have a talk about safety and not giving his parents a heart attack.

And about whatever made Bradley act out like that.

He comes back downstairs and the ginger tea is already lukewarm enough to drink — they only have ginger tea now because Sarah is still nauseous despite being well out of the first trimester. Bradley sits down with him at the table, his Spiderman pajamas on, takes a sip and promptly grimaces.

“That’s yacky,” Bradley says.

“Believe me, I know, kid. It was two against one,” he says, feeling sleepy out of a sudden. “Your aunt would bite my head off if I said anything, anyway.”

Bradley still drinks more because he’s a good kid that never complains. Or maybe because he doesn’t want to talk to Ron.

“You want to tell me why you left home so late?” he prompts. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Bradley crosses his legs on the chair — Ice would’ve told him to sit properly but he’s not here so Ron lets it slide. Bradley shakes his head, wordlessly.

“Did you argue with Mav?” Ron tries again. Bradley looks away, at their fridge and the family photos and their collection of sonograms, and shakes his head, eyes not present. It scares the shit out of Ron. “Bud? Did someone say something? Do something, to you?”

“No,” he says, finally, barely hearable. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Ron weighs his options. Bradley's always been a kid with lots and lots of emotions but usually, he wouldn't mind displaying them raw — he could push but he isn't sure whether that would help or harm the situation more. He doesn't want to pressure him but he also doesn't want him to feel like he's alone with whatever made him act like this.

“You want to sleep in your room? Or do you wanna sleep with us, today?”

"Could I—" he begins and then closes his mouth. Ron lets him think through whatever is going over in his head, waiting, until Bradley asks quietly, "Could I sleep with you?"

"Of course you can," Ron says straight away, still feeling unsettled, like he's missing something. "Just try not to wake up your aunt, she's really grumpy in the morning lately. Don't tell her that I said that, either."

*

Bradley’s been—quiet.

The night visits became frequent. Frequent enough that after the fourth time Ice, like the insomniac he is, woke up and went to check on Bradley to find him missing, Mav and Ice bought him a bike. It was safer if he had lights and a helmet on, and the trip to Ron and Sarah’s house took him less time that way. It still isn’t safe but Bradley hasn’t even tried to wake any of them to take him to Ron in a car, like they promised they would, so any alternative was better.

Ron can’t exactly pinpoint what changed aside from how Bradley’s no longer bubbling a mile a minute and how he seems both clingy and unusually detached from them. He’s been staying vaguely around them but never close enough to touch, like he used to.

Today’s been especially strange. Bradley hasn’t even let Sarah cuddle with him after dinner. He helped her prepare the food, quiet and way too focused on tasks for the bouncy eleven-year-old he is, just asking her what to do next and not even humming along to the radio in the kitchen.

Ron, if this was any other kid, would say he is jittery about the parent-teacher meeting and what his folks would hear while talking to his teacher but in all honesty, Bradley doesn’t have anything to worry about — he has perfect grades, and aside from that fight he’d gotten into a couple weeks ago Ice and Mav already know about, he is a sweet, a bit shy kid who isn't much trouble.

Ice and Mav show up to pick him up at half-past eight. Sarah’s already gone for a nap that will turn into nine hours of sleep and Ron and Bradley are quietly sitting in the living room, each reading their own book. Their faces are turned into a grimace from the minute they step in to greet Ron and Mav is observing the kid like a hawk.

Bradley curls his legs closer and gives Ron a very short look, the big doe eyes telling Ron he is about to ask if he can stay the night. Ron shakes his head before he does it long enough he’ll give in.

“Go say bye to your aunt, buddy,” Ice tells Bradley which is a code for an adults-only conversation.

Ron doesn’t like it.

“She’s asleep,” Bradley points out.

It’s the truth, but Mav still hasn’t said anything, just staring at Bradley, so Ron says, “You can wake her up for a minute, she’ll probably want to know you’re going and will give you a kiss goodbye.”

Bradley hesitates, looking between Ron and Ice like they're tricking him into something. He and Sarah didn't have the greatest of starts — she moved to California not long after Carole got diagnosed and was the least familiar face during that hard time, often completely omitted when Bradley sought out adult comfort. It's been getting better and better the more time they spent together, and Bradley's been especially warming up since they told him about the baby — Sarah would talk to Bradley about the pregnancy often, explaining different things, taking him to shop for baby clothes, letting him think of baby names, letting him touch the baby bump. Ron has thought that maybe Bradley finally felt included enough by her to include her in his little trusted family.

Ron sometimes wonders if it's because Bradley knows he'd almost become his stepdad before he and Carole called it quits — they never told him they were together, tried to test it out before Bradley became attached but maybe they hadn't done a good job of it. Maybe when they broke up when it kept on feeling weird with Goose's memory still in both their heads, they should've explained it to him. Maybe he felt like Sarah took Ron away from him and his mom when he started dating her not long after she moved to San Diego.

"You go, bud, you're probably the only person that won't make her grumpy," Ron encourages.

Bradley jumps off the couch and meticulously puts his bookmark in his book and closes it, careful not to crease the pages or the spine — in a mirror image of Ice, because of course — and walks away to the corridor.

They listen until the bedroom door closes behind him, Ice picks up Bradley’s book and puts it in his jacket’s inside pocket, and Ron turns back to the adults-only conversation with a heavy heart. 

“He’s apparently been asking about adoption,” Maverick finally says, barely audible.

“I thought you already adopted him. The guardianship was switched to custody after a year, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, he, uhm—”

He doesn't continue and it's scaring the shit out of Ron. He looks like a wreck of a person.

“He’s been asking whether we can give him up,” Ice supplies, voice perfectly leveled, his hands tucked into his jean pockets. Just, expressionless, really.

“For adoption?” Ron asks. Ice nods. “Jesus Christ.”

Even with how withdrawn Bradley's been, he'd have never gone into that territory with his theories.

No wonder Bradley didn't want to say a goddamn word about what was bothering him.

Ice takes a deep breath and says, voice urgent, "Look, he comes to you a lot when he's upset, did he say anything? Anything that could explain where all those questions came from?"

“No,” he denies instantly. “Do you think someone at school could, you know, be a bit too nosy again?”

They had that problem before, in Lemoore, straight after Carole's death and before they moved, when some concerned parents had started asking too many questions about who Mav was and how he was managing Bradley's childcare and who was Ice and why was Ice so involved. It was the whole reason CPS has even bothered to look at Mav's custody agreement and put Bradley in foster care for so long.

“Bradley barely talks to the other kids, still, even if someone’s parents—” Mav stops and his gaze gets all wet and it doesn't go away even when Ice grips his hand. "I don't know."

"Come on, you know it's not—You're doing everything the right way, Mav, he's been through a lot but you could see he is dealing with it now and he's been happy, it's not—"

Ron doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Just talk to him," he says in the end. "He's your kid, just make sure he knows that."

When he looks at Ice, he doesn't know how to react — he's never seen him looking so lost.

"Where's he anyway? He should be back by now—" he grumbles. Maybe actually having Bradley within their range of sight, unharmed and present and not at some strangers house god knows where would make them feel better. "I'll go get him."

Ron walks to their bedroom like a robot, trying to school his expression by to calm so his helplessness doesn't show.

"Buddy, what's taking so long, did you fall asleep too—"

He stops talking at the view he gets when he opens the door — Bradley is curled up around Sarah’s baby bump, his hand under her t-shirt, and Sarah is dozing off again with her fingers in his curls, blinking sleepily at Ron.

"The baby is kicking," he says and he's whispering like anything louder would spook the baby into hiding again.

“I’ll come back in five minutes, buddy,” Ron says, keeping his voice low.

*

Ron's been baby-proofing the house for what feels like weeks now and Sarah is still insisting it's not enough, finding new boops and beeps to improve. And Ron loves her, really, but he also still works about fifty hours a week and the kid is not going to even be moving much for at least six or seven months after they pop out.

They're certainly not going to let the kid out alone on the terrace for longer than that, he's sure, but he's also sure if he told that he's nine months pregnant wife, he'd be sleeping on the couch. 

So he's modifying the terrace, so they have baby doors to the steps and the spaces in the little fence around the elevation is baby-proofed with a bouncy mesh net that their baby can smash their face all they want and not fall off.

It's almost eight already and Ron is still going at it, knowing he won't have the time later in the week but also running on about five hours of sleep, when he hears Bradley's bike rattle on the gravel on their driveway.

"Hey, kid," he says, not turning around from the task and trusting that Bradley is not going to run over Sarah's pansies again. Ron really doesn't want to find her planting new ones while nine months pregnant and he knows she would. "You here for anything in particular or just passing by?"

Bradley stops the bike, getting off and carefully avoiding the flower rows, thankfully. He is walking the thing now, to leave it next to their ugly garden shed.

"I was sick the whole week and now I don't understand my science homework," he tells him. "Mr. Kraig said I should come to the extra classes but we have a test before that."

Ron doesn't look from where he's measuring the stupid tiny fence. "Isn't this something you usually do with Mav and Ice?"

“I didn’t want to bother them.”

“So you thought you’d bother me?”

It’s just a joke — if Ron was a little less tired, he’d have remembered that Bradley’s already been feeling fragile around all the adults in his life and not having the greatest of times in general. He’d have been less snarky or maybe he’d have said nothing or maybe he’d prodded a little bit about why Bradley doesn’t want Ice’s or Mav’s help with homework anymore.

It’s just a joke but he doesn’t even manage to turn around and he hears the bike’s chain rattle as the kid starts biking off god knows where, not looking back.

“Bradley—”

He stands up to go over him but the stupid baby doors are in place and he trips when he tries to jump over them, knocking down the roll with the mesh net. It unrolls on the grass and by the time he's untangled from it all, he can't see Bradley on either end of the street.

"Sarah—" he calls out as soon as he's back in the house. "Call Ice and tell them to call us if Bradley turns up back home."

"What? Ronnie, where are you going?"

He's grabbing his car keys because like hell he's just going to sit and wait.

Bradley didn't say a single thing, just ran out. He's not coming back to them, he knows, and he's not sure how long it'll be before he caves in and goes back home.

He doesn't like it. He doesn't like it all.

He keeps on driving around in circles between theirs and Ice's house, looking out for Bradley's bike anywhere on the road, turning up back to check with Sarah that Ice hasn't called every twenty minutes or so.

It's getting dark when he notices Bradley's bike on Ice's porch.

"I'm going to call Sarah, tell her you're here already," Mav says and he dips into the kitchen.

Instantly, Ron's eyes search for Bradley and he's there, in one piece, in their living room, still getting scolded by Ice.

When he notices Ron and their eyes meet, he looks away, stepping to the side enough that he's well hidden behind Ice's legs.

Ice turns around. "Slider—"

Maybe he's too big, too old, for that, but never for Ron — he grabs Bradley under his arms and hugs him, one hand on his back, another under his thighs. It's as easy as it's always been despite what everyone says.

"Jesus Christ, kid," he blurts out. "You scared the living shit out of me."

"I’m sorry,” Bradley says and his voice is hoarse.

“No, I am sorry, kid,” he says, adjusting Bradley in his arms so he can flatten his cheek on Ron’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, you’ll never — never, all right? — bother us, I just—It was a bad joke, okay?”

“I know,” Bradley mumbles into his collarbone. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, kid,” Ron insists.

He maneuvers him in his arms, detaches Bradley’s hands from around his shoulders so he looks at him and his eyes are shiny and red, and god, Ron just wants to take it all back, take it all away.

He doesn’t know what is going on with Bradley lately and he isn’t telling them but he wants them to have a safe place in them, he wants him to keep coming to them until he finally lets them help with whatever is happening.

“Promise me you know that, promise me you know you’ll never ever bother us, no matter what.”

Bradley doesn’t reply anything to that, instead saying, “Can you put me down? I’m not five.”

“Bradley,” Ice reprimands and Ron doesn’t care if he has a tone when he speaks to him, he just cares that—

“Promise me you know,” he repeats.

“I know, I promise,” he says.

He’s still not looking at him or at Ice, and he still seems so small, like he’s trying to take the least space he can, but he’s—he’s promising and Ron has to let go off him at some point, as heartbreaking as it feels.

He sets him back down on the carpet and Bradley curls into himself even more.

Ice opens his mouth, probably to continue the scolding and use Ron’s worry as a leverage, but Ron catches his eyes before he says anything. He shakes his head.

*

Juliette Nicole Kazansky Kerner was born on Friday, just a few minutes after three in the morning, after about twelve hours in labor and delivery.

They've decided early on that it was just going to be the three of them in the delivery suite and then for another twenty-four hours. Ron's mama was coming from Minnesota in about a week and that left just Ice and his little family.

They know the plan so they come in on Saturday, after breakfast, after Sarah slept off the exhaustion and is finally ready for visitors.

There are congratulations and hugs and then Julie crying and asking for food. There is the moment Maverick gets to hold her when she doesn't want to burp and gets her to do just so like it's the most natural thing and the moment after when Ice is looking at him with that smitten expression that Ron used to make fun of, before it became almost constant on him whenever Maverick is around.

There's a moment when finally, Bradley gets a very close look at Julie and stares at her with his mouth open and eyes wide and Sarah asks him, "Do you want to hold her?"

And then he's listening like his life depends on it when Sarah and Mav explain to him how to hold a baby and how he needs to be very careful with her head and not make too many movements not to drop her.

“She’s so tiny,” Bradley says and Ron is pretty sure he's repeated it at least three times now.

“That’s why you have to be really careful with her, buddy,” Ice says, adjusting Bradley's arm so it's holding their little Julie closer to Bradley's chest.

They're safely sitting in a big armchair with a pillow underneath just in case, but Bradley seems to have taken the cautions to heart and is holding Julie's limp head up and coconing her with his arms like it's a mission.

“She looked bigger in Aunt Sarah’s belly,” he says, still sounding awed.

Sarah laughs because truly, Bradley was the only one who could indirectly call her big and not unleash a hormonal wrath.

Maybe he said it too soon because Sarah starts crying instead, her lips are trembling when she looks at the two of them from where she's lying in bed still and next thing Ron knows, there's a waterfall.

She's smiling so he isn't too worried. He gets a whiplash because in less thirty seconds, Ice is crying to, still hovering over Bradley like the control freak he is, and if Ice is crying, that means Mav is not far behind.

Bradley lifts his head from where he was gazing at Julie and okay, Ron is a bit teary-eyed, too, by the time Bradley asks innocently, “Why is everyone crying?”

Those big doe eyes just make him weak. He's just praying he'll have more restraint with his own kids.

The nurse comes in to check on both Sarah and Julie, telling them she's probably going to be discharged tomorrow morning if their obs keep on being so good.

"We probably should grab something to eat," Ron supplies. "There's a buffet nearby."

Sarah had refused hospital food. And he's not going to be refusing her some good food when she's just popped a whole human into the world.

Bradley, realizing that standing up would mean letting go of Julie, asks, “Do I have to go with you?”

“No, but remember Mav is going to be picking your food if you stay and you know how he feels about vegetables,” Ice says.

“It’s fine,” Bradley decides and wow, the kid is really smitten, too. “Can I stay?”

They switch Bradley from the armchair to sitting next to Sarah in bed, just in case, and he's pouting the whole two minutes he doesn't have Julie in his arms.

"That was adorable," Ron says as soon as they leave the room. "I didn't think he'd take so well to her."

“I kinda wish we could have another kid just so he could be a big brother,” Mav says and he sounds like he's still melting inside.

“Yeah,” Ice agrees absently and he sounds so dreamy Ron snorts. “What?”

“Tom ‘I Don’t Like Kids’ Kazansky wanting more kids is never not going to be amusing,”

“It’s different when it’s your kids,” he protests, not ashamed at all.

And Slider supposes it is, at least for Ice because Ice is so good with Bradley, loves him so much, that he sometimes wonders if Ice's aversion to kids was just some way to protect him from heartbreak when having kids seemed impossible, given who Ice tended to love.

*

"Our three-month check up is on Friday, do you think you will be able to go with us? It's at six."

He's unpacking groceries in the kitchen, late after getting back from work, and Sarah is sitting in her rocking chair, nursing Julie for the last time before they put her to sleep for the night — she's going to wake up at least twice, but she seemed to have faded into tiredness as soon as Ron got to hold her for five minutes.

He's pretty sure he's only got paperwork to do on Friday so he should be fine, but—

“Thought it was going to be on Saturday?”

“Tom mentioned Bradley’s match is on Saturday, I thought you’d probably like to be there, too, so I made the switch,” Sarah says.

“He didn’t say anything about a match,” Ron notes. “Baby Goose, I mean.”

“We missed his last two so I thought we should probably start going to them again,” Sarah explains gently, her voice going quieter as Julie starts to fall asleep mid-feeding again. “He’s apparently banned Ice and Mav from coming because he’s embarrassed when they come, you know Tom is a bit of a soccer mom and—Ronnie?”

He—He feels it again, the feeling that something is wrong, but he can't really explain what is wrong with Bradley's behavior — kids do grow, get embarrassed by parents and uncles and want more independence. It just doesn't sit right with him.

“He didn’t tell me about his matches,” he realizes. It’s baseball season, it’s been for weeks. “He hasn’t slept over in four months, Shay.”

“He’s almost a teenager, he’s bound to start thinking you’re uncool,” Sarah says and it doesn't—

She isn't saying anything that doesn't ring true, Ron himself had those thoughts when he was much younger than Bradley. But it doesn't sit well with him. Bradley's been so off before Julie was born, for months, and now suddenly he seems to be not only fine, but fine without any of their support.

Sarah bumps Julie's nose, putting her shirt back over her arm and grabs the towel to put over her shoulder—

“At least you’ll have this one thinking you can save the world for a few more years," she says. "Can’t imagine how Mav and Ice are feeling right now.”

some people requested tagging so here you go hons: @callsign-hummingbird, @happypopcornprincess, @nearlynadin, @strangelove97, @pollyna, @heartthyshark

i know it's been a long time so let me know if you don't want me to tag you for the next part

[cybercore-creations]

All good things

Summary: Life played him for a fool again, he was stupid for thinking he'd get a single good thing

Tw: Suicide, Kidnapping, implied Stolkholm syndrome

He thought everything was okay. He thought you finally accepted this was where you were staying. Giving him a kiss every morning, helping Vincent with the sculptures, taking Jonsey on walks with Lester. You didn't scream or cry anymore. Didn't have to be locked up. Everything felt normal. A normal spouse, A normal family, A normal life.

But nothing ever went right for Beauregard Sinclair. He could never have a normal anything. Never had one normal thing in his life.

Maybe it was hopeful thinking or straight denial. Just playing pretend. But he didn't expect when he entered your shared bedroom to find you with bleeding wrists and one of his knives weakly clutched in your hands. There was no note. No closure. Not a simple thing to tell him it wasn't his fault.

You didn't have to say it, but he knew it was his fault. He shouldn't have kept you alive. Shoulda just threw you in the museum like everyone else, but he didn't. You were a spitfire from the beginning. That's what he liked about you. He never expected a victim to hot wire Lester's truck and try to run him over but there you were smiling as you pushed the old thing as fast as it could go. He laughed when you'd slammed your face onto the steering wheel when he shot out the tires. It wasn't even a sadistic one, he genuinely found it funny.

You saw the man. He was distracted, looking off into the distance, probably trying to find you but you hit the gas hard. The pedal slammed to the ground as you changed gears (He always liked someone who could drive stick) Bo heard the truck before he saw it. The loud rumble of the thing much too old to still be driven. It was like second instinct as he hopped out of the way, shooting out the tires. The truck spun out and all he heard was "FUCK" and then the slam of your forehead on the uncoushined wheel accompanied by a "ow"

His eyes drifted towards the now bloodied silver band on your finger. You were supposed to get married. You'd been in Ambrose for a little over a year when he popped the question and he remembers the bright smile before squeezing him tight. The memory would make him happy but instead he felt nothing but betrayl.

As the night draped itself over Ambrose, The two of you found yourselves perched on the rooftop of the old, weathered church. The stars above twinkled like glitter strewn across a velvet canvas. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, and the only sound that echoed through the quiet night was the faint chirping of crickets. Bo took your hand in his, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You know, Peaches, I've been thinking about a lot lately" You raised your eyebrows "And what does that thinking gotta do with Hun?" He fiddled with the ring in his pocket before taking a deep breath. For the first time in his life, he was nervous. "Our future together. How I wanna turn ya into Mx.Sinclair." "W-What?" You stuttered. "Peaches, the second I laid eyes on you went you came in for that fan belt, I was hooked. Every second since then I've been falling harder. So uh, will you be my spouse?" He pulled out the ring, hands shaking. You grabbed onto him. Squeezing him tightly, he could feel your smile against his shoulder. "Absolutely. I wouldn't want anything else."

He went soft and he absolutely hated you for it, well thats what he tried to tell himself when he ran to your side trying to find a pulse. It was obvious you'd been gone for awhile. Blood was already dried on some places and your body was cold to the touch. He was frozen in time like one of Vincent's statues as he stared before he dropped to his knees. Bo let out a scream. A noise so deep in his chest that it didn't even sound human. An animalistic sob that you could probably even hear the town over. The one good thing in his rotten life was taken from him

"I hate you. I hate you. I HATE YOU." He yelled. Tears now rolling down his face. "Why did you have to leave me?"

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 7: Habituation

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

"Did... Did Mikey just sign at us?" Leo asks, eyes wide.

Mikey repeats the motion again.

'Talk. Talk. Talk.'

"I think he wants to talk," Raph mutters.

"I think he wants US to talk," Leo adds, looking down at his baby brother. "You don't like being left out of the conversation, huh?"

Mikey shakes his head. It's hard enough trying to communicate when you can't say anything, but cutting him out completely? That's simply not fair.

"Sorry, bud, we just... didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Mikey signs again, bending his middle finger so that only his thumb and pinky are pointed, starting at the top of his head and dragging down just below his chin.

'Why?'

"Well, we were worried you might get... upset if we talked about it," Raph says, glancing between him and Leo. "I guess we shoulda remembered you know ASL..."

Mikey signs again, this time at Leo. He touches his hands to his chest, pivoting them towards each other twice.

'Animals?'

Leo gives him a confused expression. Mikey tries another one, his dominant hand forming a small fist with a finger pointing, mimicking a tail.

'Reptile'

"Oh... you read that?" Leo asks.

Mikey nods, a small chirp escaping from his throat.

"Well --" Leo looks up to Raph, who is waving his hand over his throat, trying to signal him to cut it out, don't say anything!

Mikey follows Leon's gaze back to Raph, who glances away and whistles nonchalantly, pretending to be distracted by something in the back of the room.

Leo snickers and rolls his eyes.

"You have some reptile blood in you now," Leo announces quickly.

Raph and Mikey's heads both snap back to him. Both of their eyes go wide, both of their jaws drop, yet their expressions totally different.

Mikey looks astonished and intrigued, a soft grin presses his lips as he contemplates what this means for him.

Raph looks utterly terrified.

"We think that might be why you got so agitated with the cold," Leo finishes.

Mikey shivers slightly, his hands trembling from the chills as he moves his arms back and forth, signing again.

'Cold. Not good. We don't like it.'

"We?" Leo asks.

Mikey blinks before signing again to clarify.

'Mikey doesn't like cold'

Leo does his best not to be put off by his brother referring to himself as a plural or in the third person, and chalks it up to just the fact that he hasn't used sign language in a long time, and is mixing up or forgetting certain words.

Raph picks Mikey up from the floor, cradling him close.

"How about we get you back to your room where it's and nice and warm, hmm?"

Mikey purrs happily, snuggling deeper into the towel and nuzzling Raph's plastron.

The trio walk back to Mikey's traincar, where Splinter is gathering more blankets and pillows.

"Ah, boys! I was just getting the bed set up."

Mikey wriggles out of Raph's hold and jumps to his father, squeaking and croaking out noises of happiness.

Splinter chuckles softly, petting his son on the head. Mikey's feline instincts start to take over, and he circles around him, nuzzling his head against his legs as his tail wraps his father's robe. Splinter's hand stays still, allowing Mikey's moving body to flow underneath it.

He holds the tip of his tail in his hands, gently rubbing his fingers over the slick and smooth scaly skin. He can feel the spikier ones that raise up when threatened, making Mikey resemble a stegosaurus -- though currently they are smoothed down.

Michelangelo hums at his father.

Splinter looks down at him, tears in his eyes as he examines the face of his youngest son. His baby, his sweet little boy that used to make him all kinds of drawings for fathers day and his birthday and Lou Jitsu appreciation day. The boy who learned to cook so that their ailing father didn't have to, when his depression caused aches and pains that wracked his aging body and kept him bedridden. The toddler that would beg his father to watch him dance, only for Mikey to just jump around and spin in circles to the rhythm of a new pop song while Splinter would clap and cheer with such adoration for his little boy...

Where is that child? Is he still in there somewhere?

Mikey looks up at him, concerned. His eyes sparkle, the yellow-tinted scleras and the glowing red irises and pupils covering up what used to be a white eye with dark green iris and black pupil. The colours are not the same, but the life and energy behind them are.

Splinter can't hold back the tears anymore, but he smiles profusely at his baby boy.

"There you are," he mumbles, crouching down to hug him tightly.

Mikey hugs him back, his tail twisting around them both.

After a few awkward minutes of silence, Splinter finally releases Mikey, who starts running around the room again playfully.

"Purple gave me a list of some tests he has planned for tomorrow," he recalls, wiping the last of the tears out from his fur and whiskers. "Small things, like an eye exam and saliva swab. He wants to try a blood test, if possible."

"Alright. Oh, by the way, tell him that Mikey has an aversion to cold now," Leo informs him. "And that he CAN understand us. We figured out how to use ASL with him."

Splinter's eyes widen with hope as he looks behind him at his baby boy. Mikey ignores them and their serious-sounding conversation, and instead jumps up into his hammock and plays around with the pillow before jumping back down, still looking around and getting reacquainted with his room.

"Very well. Are you boys sleeping with him tonight?" Splinter inquires.

Mikey attacks his pillow, grabbing it in his mouth and shaking it with a playful growl.

"We'll stay for a bit," Raph answers softly.

Splinter nods, grimacing at the cushion being ripped to shreds.

"I'll have to buy more pillows, I think..." he jokes half-heartedly.

Splinter walks over to Mikey and kisses his head. Mikey mews at him and purrs happily, the tip of his tail wagging.

"Goodnight, my sunshine," he whispers before heading out.

Mikey makes a small call out after him, like a tiny yowl or cheery whine. He's calling goodnight to him.

"Alright, Mikey, I think it's bedtime," Leo announces, stretching softly with an exaggerated yawn to convince him of the lateness.

"Aaaaawwhh!" Mikey howls. It almost sounds like an actual word...

Leo is shaken by how human the sound is. But then again, it almost sounds like a sad cat yowl if you think about it.

"No buts, big man," Raph interjects, taking over for Leo. "You fell asleep in the tub. You need your rest. Pops just brought you all these nice warm blankets and comforters, see?"

Raph holds up one of the freshly folded sheets under the hammock.

"So let's get you into bed and cozy, hmm? Yeah? Sounds good, right?"

Mikey's brow furrows, though the corner of his mouth turns up. It's as if his expression is trying to say "Really?"

Despite this, Mikey rolls his eyes and saunters over to the hammock, wiggling his hind quarters before leaping up again. He slithers under the blanket and gives out a single chirp of satisfaction.

"Good Mikey," Raph says, coming over to rub his brother's head. "We'll see ya in the morning, m'kay?"

Mikey moans at him, his eyes wide and sad. He wants them to stay.

"Alright, we'll stay," Raph sighs. He could never resist Mikey's puppy eyes before. Now it's as though he's even more of a puppy.

Mikey beams at him, chirping sweetly and cooing lovingly.

It takes all of five minutes of Raph rubbing circles on his head for Mikey to pass out.

"Is he asleep?" Leo whispers.

"No doubt about it," Raph chuckles. "Kid is in slumberland."

"Good," Leo sighs, taking Raphael's hand and leading him out of the traincar.

Once they are out, Leo starts whispering again.

"We need to talk. Mikey understood our conversation, so we can't do private conversations in ASL anymore."

"Okay? So, then what?"

Leo taps his head.

"Ninja mind meld?" Raph questions, making doubly sure he understands.

"Just for the stuff we don't want Mikey hearing," Leo answers, "or reading."

"Like the deets about his mutation, for example?" Raphael grumbles. "We agreed we wouldn't tell him!"

Leo widens his eyes and taps his head again. Raphael hears his brother's voice in his mind.

We agreed that we wouldn't tell him about the ang-kray. But I don't think it's that bad that he knows he has reptilian traits, do you? And like Donnie said, he might even know that he has it already!

Raph grunts.

Fine. You're the leader now, you can decide what we do or don't do in this situation. I can't stop ya. But... I'm worried for him.

Raph scratches his arm, a habit born out of stress.

He's... he's just a kid. And you know how hard it hit ME when I knew I had the krang in me... Mikey... I don't want him to hurt like that.

He's probably already hurting, Raph, Leo responds, taking his older brother's hands in order to get him to stop scratching. He needs us to be honest and upfront where we can be. Yes, I agree that telling him about the krang is probably not the best idea right now. But eventually he will need to know. We can't keep that from him. I don't WANT to keep things from him. If I can help Mikey understand himself, then I will.

Raph sighs.

"You're right," he says out loud. "I just worry a lot... about him, especially."

"I know," Leo sighs, pulling his brother into a hug. "But it wasn't your fault that this happened."

Raph squeezes Leo closer.

"...But it is."

Prev || Next

[merakiui]

How would things go in the instance Jade and Floyd don't want to share darling ? 🤔 I know you keep writing them as they're okay with sharing, but they're also selfish and greedy too, so I'm curious of how you think it would play out. 😮

They basically fight over you like you're the last potential mate on the planet. You're all they see and all they want, but since neither is willing to compromise and share then they will definitely try to win you over in their own ways. Jade takes a very sweet, romantic approach, always sending you coy smiles and sidling up to you when you're standing beside him in hopes of charming you with kind sentiments and flirts (which are usually genuine, but sometimes if something comes from Jade you can't help feeling suspicious). He invites you on his mountain hikes and to the botanical gardens to water your plants together.

Floyd just acts like himself. He thinks Jade's trying too hard and that makes him look lame. Floyd will spoil you with lots of random gifts because he likes to give things to you. He'll gift you a potion with a very odd color and odor that he brewed in alchemy or he'll give you a nice piece of jewelry he got from one of Azul's clients or he'll give you a plushie that reminds him of you. Floyd loves to be around you at all times, so chances are if he's skipped his shifts or doesn't show up in class then he's gone to wherever you might be.

They also avidly cockblock the other, so neither ever gets a chance to kiss you, hold your hand, get close enough to initiate intimacy. Every time Floyd tries to open his mouth wide to show off his pharyngeal jaw, Jade is quick to stuff a snack in his mouth (cream bread, gummy candies, peppermints, lollipops, whatever he happens to have on him; Jade always has snacks on him for these reasons) to stop Floyd, who rounds on him with raised fists and an irritated growl. Jade has the most delightful smile on his face, all while calmly reminding (and artfully dodging every punch Floyd throws), "It isn't very polite to open your mouth so casually at others, Floyd."

Or when Jade prepares a meal for you (which has an aphrodisiac or mushrooms with numbing effects mixed in) and Floyd, despite his hatred of mushrooms, will quickly intercept the meal with a very bright grin, happily thanking Jade for feeding him because wow was he starving! Floyd has to suffer the consequences afterwards, when he's locked away in his room with all the feeling gone in his body or overwhelmed with a lustful heat he just can't shake. Jade always tuts at him when he checks in; naturally he saw this coming, but it's still troublesome that even a mushroom dish won't stop Floyd from getting between the two of you. He'll just have to try harder. Though no one knows Jade better than Floyd does, and no one knows Floyd better than Jade does. They'll predict the other's moves with ease just to get in the way.

And then there are the times when they get so irritated with the other that it leads to physical fights. The amount of times Azul has had to summon you to the lounge to break up their fights before they cause any more damage... orz but the twins always listen to you; they always stop throwing punches the minute you speak, immediately trying to place the blame on the other for starting the violent scuffle so that you'll feel more pity for them.

"You shoulda seen how mean Jade was, shrimpy! He hit me first. It really hurts, ya know. How's about you kiss it better for me? Please, shrimpy?" Floyd will beg with a pout while he cradles his bruised cheek, masterfully playing the part of the sweet, innocent, injured brother.

Jade smooths the wrinkles in his unkept, torn uniform, also looking equally hurt. "To think my only kin would resort to such nasty violence... (Name), you must understand that I only meant to protect myself. It was Floyd who became so rough..." If he really wants to send a proper message, he might even fake cry, tearing up in a way that looks so authentic you might be compelled to go to him first.

Azul cannot believe these fools are acting like this when they both have work to attend to. They're running a business here, and time is money! They can't afford to be distracted with these foolish spats, but Azul has no room to criticize because he's just as down bad for you as the twins are. And while they engage in their sibling rivalry, he gets to slip into your heart slowly but surely as he takes note of what works and what fails when the twins attempt to impress you. :)

[brighttears]

"Harshness and Tenderness Stand Side by Side"

Joel Miller x reader

Platonic!Ellie Miller x reader

No physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: The three of you clash when stopping to rest after a challenging day. You’re the voice of reason and comfort both of them when it catches up to them later. 

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Angst! Kind of hurt/comfort, arguing, you’re kind of a moderator? Everyone cries! Mentions of violence, very brief mention of suicide and god, pet name (angel) 

A/n: I found time to write! I think maybe reader talks too much in this idk. If I missed any warnings please lmk!!

—

“Stay in here.” Joel orders Ellie harshly before closing the door most of the way behind him, leaving her in the deserted home’s living room before turning to you, standing in the middle of the bedroom. He glowers. 

“That was some bullshit, back there.” He keeps his voice low but hides none of the venom. “Ellie fucked that up.”

“We got caught by surprise. It happens. Don’t blame her for it.”

“I’m blamin’ her for it, I’m blamin’ her for reactin’ too fuckin’ slow. She coulda got you killed.”

“I was fine. I handled it.”

“Yeah, thank god you got enough sense to raise a fuckin’ gun when there’s five fuckin’ Infected runnin’ at ya.” He snaps.

“Joel, stop. I’m not gonna take your shit for this. And I’m not gonna let you talk about her like this.”

“I’m not talkin’ shit, I’m talkin’ to you about what happened.”

“I know what happened.” You raise your voice briefly before regaining control, “We got caught with our pants down, and she didn’t do you what you thought she should have, which y—”

“What I thought she should do?” Joel screws his face up, “Warnin’ us isn’t what I think she shoulda done, it’s what you fuckin’ do. We can’t protect her if she keeps doin’ stupid shit like that.”

“Hey.” You snap, a glare pinning up your face. You understand where he’s coming from, but anger is intoxicating his point. Ellie made a simple mistake that, admittedly, did put you in danger, but it was nothing major and nothing you couldn’t handle. A revealing fact here is that before Joel grabbed his gun to shoot, he had grabbed Ellie to pull her out of the way from the Infected that were barreling down the hall towards you. You took all but one out, the last one shot down by Joel when it was only a few feet away from being on top of you. Yes, a terrifying ordeal, but not more than anything you’ve seen before. You had barely thought about Ellie’s failure to react, but apparently, it was tearing Joel up. In his mind, he probably watched you die, and he wanted something to blame, and after himself, it had landed on Ellie. “Get a fucking hold of yourself.” You continue, “None of that was her fault. You can’t blame her for it. Joel, she’s just a kid.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, shooting back fiercely, “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t look at her an’ see anything else?” Joel huffs, a fearful breath, thinking back on the scene. You catch a sadness in his eyes before he sharpens, “Well she needs to grow the fuck up. World ain’t got room for kid shit. She needs to learn how to fuckin’ handle it. Cause it ain’t changin’ for her.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Just give her a break.” You try, then realizing that your choice of words isn’t going to work out. 

“Give her a break? Are you listenin’ to me? There are no breaks. It’s only gonna get fucking’ worse.” He snarls, then breaths in through his nose and turns his back to you. 

Right as he whirls back around, shoving his finger out towards you, Ellie speaks from behind the cracked door, “Are we staying or are we going? Cause it’s getting dark.”

Looking in her direction, Joel’s body relaxes, but not from a sudden peace falling over him. He puts his hands on his hips and looks down, shifting a knee out. Then he looks up at you and says monotonously, “Stayin. We’ll start back out in the mornin’. Stay with her in here. I’ll take first watch on the couch, wake you up in a few hours.” 

Ellie pulls the door open but stays where she is in the entrance, an intense frown hardened on her face. “You could have at least closed the fucking door if didn’t want me to hear that.”

Realization cuts open Joel’s face but he doesn’t say a word. You can see his breathing stop, but then he switches back, “Nothin’ you shouldn’t be hearin’ anyway.” He moves towards her to leave, but her feet stay planted. 

“You think I don’t already know all of that?” Her eyes narrow, “I’m not fucking stupid.” She glares at you now, “And I never asked for any breaks. The only thing I’ve asked for is a fucking gun.” Her eyes shoot daggers back at Joel, “And you were the one that didn’t want to give me one.”

“That’s cause you don’t know how to use one. You think FEDRA can teach you how to do anythin’ right? They’re not out here, they’ve kept you sheltered in their—”

“Sheltered?” Ellie cuts in, “I was not fucking sheltered. Just because I wasn’t out here doesn’t mean I’ve lived some nice, happy life.”

Joel stabs back, “Comparatively, yeah, it does.” 

“No, it doesn’t. Some FEDRA guard wasn’t tucking me in at night. You think they took care of us there? All they did was make sure we didn’t fucking starve and try to turn us into soldiers to fight their fucking war. That’s all I was ever taught. You think just because I was locked in some diet prison I haven’t seen shit? I watched my best friend die.” She spits. “I was born into a shit world and I’m gonna die in a shit world. Just like she did.” Ellie blinks and grinds her jaw. 

Joel stands frozen for a silent moment. Then he speaks, “Good, so you know what to expect.” And almost shoves his shoulder into her as he slips out. 

Ellie stares at the wall across from her, hand still on the doorknob.

“Ellie,” you say quietly, moving towards her, but stop in your tracks when she meets your eyes with an icy glare. 

“You don’t have to baby me.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“You’re not my fucking mom, you know.”

It hits you like a bat to your chest, knocking hot tears up to your eyes, but you swallow them down. 

“I know that.”

“Do you though?” She says as she walks quickly to the bed, swinging the door closed behind her, and sits down, gaze locked on the floor with her arms crossed over her stomach. 

“Ellie—” 

“Can you just leave me alone for a minute?” She keeps her voice as even as she can, but her eyes glisten with tears. 

“No, I—” 

“I’ll be fine for one minute, ok? Just, give me one fucking minute by myself.”

You sigh through your nose, considering. Your instinct wants to keep you here, keep your eyes on her, but you want to grant her some space, too. She really hasn’t gotten a minute alone in you don’t even know how long, probably ever since you met her. 

“Ok.” You answer finally, and walk to the door, closing it softly behind you. 

Joel sits with his head in his hands on the couch, rifle resting on the coffee table before him. 

“Joel—”

“Don’t start.” He says without looking at you. 

Tired of being shut down and still burned by Ellie’s words, you do anyway. 

“Look. She’s right. She was born in a shit world, and she’s experienced that in her own right.”

“She hasn’t experienced shit.”

“Yes, she has!” You exclaim, but try to keep your voice down for her sake. “Just because it’s not what you have, doesn’t mean it can just be dismissed. She deserves some respect. She’s been out here with us this whole time. We’ve all gone through all of this together, not just you.”

Joel shoots up and glares at you, “I’ve been out here longer than both of you combined. We might have been together”—the word is audibly poisoned with disgust—“for a few weeks, but we are not the same. You have no idea what I’ve seen, what I’ve done.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No the fuck you don’t.” Joel’s eyes narrow, “You should be fuckin’ afraid a me.” He growls, expression grim, but in his eyes you can see his affliction. Though his broad shoulder can tense and he can lean in with those teeth, looking like he’s about to jump on you, those animalistic traits ingrained in his skin only go that far. “I’m a fuckin’ monster.” Joel says. ‘Monster’ is a word, despite the world, you’ve never heard him use. It comes out like a snarl, he’s only trying to convince you of it. Joel is playing up his guise, though you’re not sure if it comes from within him, by his own making, or something that was forced on him. It’s like a tattoo, his front. But did he hold the needle, or was he gripping the dirt while the world forced the ink into his skin? Either way, you know it’s not him. All you can see is the man underneath, gripping tight the hide of a wolf to hide the vulnerability of his bare skin underneath. 

Yes, he is capable of monstrous sins—they’re embedded in his skin and his mind, but in more tender moments, when he’s shed his skin, if those moments have been impulsive or not, he’s told you that he’s only done what he’s had to do. Joel is a survivor. It’s almost all he does. Yes, it’s like a tattoo, ones that he looks down at every day, ones he sees scrawled all over his face whenever he catches his reflections. 

But you’ve seen him, whether he’s shown you on purpose or not.

Monster—out of everything you’ve ever encountered, that’s the word he uses to describe himself? 

All of it makes you want to cry. 

“I don’t buy it.” You state. 

Joel huffs a breath, then takes a step back, retreating. Confusion lines his still harshly pinched brows. 

“You don’t buy it?”

“No, I don’t.” You approach a step, attempting gentleness, “Joel, I know the things you’ve done—”

“Do you, though? You think you know me? You think in a year you know everythin’ about me? About who I am? Fuck you, you don’t buy it.” Joel narrows his eyes again and holds up two almost pinched fingers, “You’ve seen a sliver of what I’ve done.” Then he takes a quick step forward, holding his hands out, splayed before you palms down. “Look at my hands. These are the hands of a fuckin’ murderer. Look at my fuckin’ knuckles. Scars over fuckin’ scars. I've broken this hand more than once from beatin’ people. I’m fuckin’ deaf cause a how many people I’ve shot. Maybe I wasn't born one. Maybe. But I sure as hell am one now.”

Staring at his hands, you will the tears back, then meet his eyes again and raise your voice, “You are not the only one who’s gone through shit, who's done shit. I have my own scars. If you’re a monster, I’m one, too. And you know what,” you throw your hands up, “fuck it, fine. Who the fuck isn’t then? Didn’t Tommy used to ride with you? What, he sat behind while you did everything? No, I don’t think so. He must be a monster too then, huh?”

“Don’t you go twistin’ my words—”

“I’m not twisting shit. I’m just using your fucked up logic. I’m trying to show you that you’re wrong. Now, answer me. Am I a monster?” You lean in and harden your eyes. “Am I?”

The look Joel gives you shows you that you’ve intimidated him just as much as you aimed for. “No.” He answers quietly, colored with a tinge of shame, but he keeps fury painted over his face. “You’re right, you’re not like me.” Before he can launch into another speech about how horrible he’s convinced he is, you interrupt him, absolutely fed up with it, “Shut the fuck up Joel. Stop saying that. Stop separating yourself from everyone, you don’t have to do that. Stop punishing yourself. You've done what you've had to do. Just like the rest of us. You know that, I know that. You’re a protector. And I’ve seen monster’s eyes—you don’t have them.” You take another step towards him, “You don’t scare me. You’re not a monster, you’re a man, who’s desperate, who’s hurting, who regrets it all, who hates himself for what he’s had to do. And I’m sorry, Joel, I’m so sorry.”

At your last words, his face suddenly changes. Perplexion swings over his brow, a last ditch throw of intimidation, but then it relaxes. His shoulders slouch, his frame almost hanging. When the facade breaks, he just looks fucking exhausted. Then something new from him, an expression you haven’t seen. 

Joel cracks, and starts to cry. He shields his eyes with his hand but his shoulders shake and you hear the cries escape from rickety jaws. 

“Joel,” you rush to him, instantly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He nearly collapses into your hold, heavy in his fall from the wolf’s hide. You hook your hands under his arms and he lets you guide him to the couch. He flumps down on it, and though he still has his hand over his eyes, his other arm goes around your shoulder. You pull yourself close, moving your head under his arm to rest your cheek against his shoulder. You don’t know what to say—‘It’s alright,’ ‘It’s okay’, isn’t true. None of this is that. This is tragedy.

He whimpers in his shakes, sobs escaping in quick breathes. For a while, all you do is hold each other. Then, he finally takes his hand away from his face and embraces you, tears seeping through your shirt to wet your neck and shoulder where he buries his head. He clutches at you, constricting your chest, but you don’t move. 

“I’m so tired.” Joel says quietly in between the sobs he still attempts to restrain. You try to cry as quietly as you can. 

“I know you are.”

“It hurts.” He whimpers. Then, “I miss her.” With that erupts one solid sob before he hitches them back down into his throat. 

You want to say you know, but you can’t understand his pain, only your own. You think of Sarah, Tess, and the hundreds more you never knew, that he inevitably loved, and lost. 

“I’m so sorry.” You say again, unable to find anything else to describe how you feel. 

Joel’s weeping shakes his breaths until they eventually subside into shudders, then into deep ones. His emancipated weight hung around you almost makes you think he’s asleep, but then he shifts to sit again, shoulders slouched with his hands supporting him on the couch. He sniffles and wipes his hands over his eyes and cheeks. 

You quickly wipe away your own tears, sniffle, swallow, and then start, “Listen,” he turns his head to you with heartbreaking eyes, big and deep and dark, his brow furrowed. It’s amazing, the contrast he claims in his expressions. He can turn his face into one of a wolf, but when he relaxes and lets it slip away, he looks like one of those dogs you used to see in ASPCA ads. You feel the corner of your lip tug with a laugh but reign it in. Taking a deep breath instead, you run your hand over his cheek, pulling him to face you more, and brush your thumb over a damp spot on his cheek. 

Joel’s soul is tender and scared and strong and brimming with rich love. What holds it in is scarred and sooty and rough, but it’s not ugly. Joel is a rose, thorns hooked into your skin when you hold him. 

You speak softly. “You’re not a monster. And you’re not a tool, either. You’re a tragedy, because I know how much you love. This world isn’t built for you. And you can’t build yourself around it. It won’t work, it’s not you. It’s all just…” you look up, sighing and shaking your head, “misfortune.” When you look back at him, you meet desperate eyes and have to take another deep breath. Defenseless in his eyes, you simply speak your mind, the the words falling out of you, “Sometimes it just feels like some fucked up story. I don’t know what the moral is yet. Maybe just that… you know, you have to keep loving. It’s not like we really have a choice. I mean, that’s apparent enough. I know you would choose not to if you could, but then… what’s the point? You can’t kill yourself. God wouldn’t let you even when you tried. And I think I know why. I think it’s because you’re supposed to keep loving. I think that’s your role. I think it’s my role. Maybe it's hers, too.” You cock your head to the door Ellie’s hopefully but probably not sleeping behind.

“I’m not good at lovin’.” Joel shakes his head, still cupped by your hand. 

“No, you’re too good at loving.”

“Well you’re right, I wish I did’n’.”

“Well, you have people that love you. And they need you to. Tommy needs you to. I need you to. She needs you to. Even if she never tells you that, she does.”

“You think…” Joel whispers, “she loves me?”

“I know she does.” You whisper back, stroking your thumb over his cheek. 

He looks down and sighs through his nose. His lips start to move, but he falters. Without him needed to, you know what he wants to say: I love her, too. 

Tucking the hair from the side of his face behind his ear, you sigh, feeling indebted just to knowing him. 

“I’ll take first watch.” You tell him, looking over his face. “You should go stay with her.”

Meeting your eyes again, he says quietly, “I wanna stay with you.” His claim is flattering, but you know he’s just too scared to look at her now. Guilt, fear, haunting grief. 

“Alright, well, I’ll come with you then. It’d be better if we’re all together.”

“Ok.” His voice is soft and tired and as are his eyes, resting on your lips before coming back to your eyes. 

You get up first and he grunts to his feet. They scuff on the floor and then he pauses, blinking sleepiness. You offer your hand out, and without looking at you, he takes it weakly. You give it a quick squeeze before turning the knob and taking him into the bedroom. 

Joel kept the wolf’s hide tight around him for a long time, you never would have known how soft he really is, you could have never imagined him looking like he does in this moment now. It shocked you the first time you saw it, back in the QZ when you both had a very close call outside the walls. You knew you were in love with him already but at that moment, watching his eyes soften, you felt yourself fall farther, and that night as you laid together, his own heart laying bare next to yours, you knew you were his, and he was yours. Something like holding your hand like this, letting himself follow your lead, is some proof of it. 

When you enter the bedroom, Ellie, lying with her legs curled with her back facing you, shifts to look at you. You smile softly, and then her eyes shift to Joel behind you. You let go of his hand and stop to turn to him. Joel keeps his eyes on the ground, swallows, and then says wetly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” Ellie replies quietly, and then shifts her body to lie facing you, legs still curled. 

You look back at Joel, “C’mere.” And go to sit with your back against the bed. 

Joel’s eyes flip briefly to Ellie before he gives in on the floor next to you. You fold your legs and then pat your thigh for him to lay his head on. He indulges, settling in, folding his hands between bent knees with his shoulder meeting the curve of your leg. 

“Thank you.” He murmurs. Within minutes, he’s asleep, lips parted with soft and even breaths, head heavy on your thigh. 

—

The hours before your shift’s up are silent and still, save for Joel’s sleeping breathes, blowing quietly through his parted lips. 

At some point, his hand had shifted to over your knee. You squeeze it gently to wake him up just before you can feel yourself start to nod off. Joel’s eyes shoot open when you do, and he awkwardly raises himself to a half sitting, half lying position, rapidly blinking himself back to consciousness. 

“Your turn.” You whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, sticking up from how it pressed on your leg. 

He clears his throat, “Alright.” Then laboriously raises himself to his feet with a pained groan. Standing, he combs his own hand through his hair, still blinking himself awake. “Shit, I left my gun out there.”

“Don’t worry, all quiet.”

“Well you shoulda gone an’ got it.”

“I still have mine right here,” you pat your hip, “besides, I didn’t wanna wake you up. If there was any noise at all, I would have.”

He hikes up his jeans, “Well… just wake me up next time.”

“But you look so pretty when you’re sleeping. I wouldn’t have woken you up at all but I’m starting to feel my eyes close.”

He almost succeeds at hiding a smile. “You need your sleep, too, angel.” He sniffs and looks back towards the door. “Alright… I gotta take a piss. Grab my gun, an’ I’ll be right back.” He turns his head back to trail his eyes over Ellie. After a moment, Joel sniffs again and then starts for the door. 

Once he’s out of sight, you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face, and turn to look at the young girl curled up on the bed. You notice, though, that she’s only pretending to sleep. 

When she slowly blinks her eyes open, you catch her and ask, “How long have you been awake?” 

Eyes still mostly squinted, she answers softly, “Not long.”

“Did he wake you up?” You whisper. 

“Yeah, don’t tell him though.”

“I won’t.” You smile at her again. 

You just look at each other for a while, you simply appreciating this moment with little Ellie safe and sound. 

“Do you wanna… sleep in the bed? Instead of the floor?” She sleepily asks eventually. 

Your first thought is no, that’s all for you, but there are words between the lines that you catch onto. 

“Sure.” You shift to your feet, and Ellie turns her back to you. 

She’s really not all that hard to read. This is a request and an apology, and you oblige and don’t need to forgive as you crawl onto the bed next to her. 

“Don’t you wanna get under the blankets?” You whisper. She looks back up at you, pauses, and then nods. Ellie’s shyness comes out in moments like these, when she’s too sleepy for sarcasm or lies. 

She half sits, shifting up for you to slip the covers from under her and lift them up and then slide in next to her, pulling them over the two of you. 

Then you’re simply laying together, eyes wandering over each other’s features. 

“I’m sorry. For earlier.” Ellie breaks the silence. 

“Already forgiven.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

Whatever this specifically relates to is unimportant, so you stay silent, but you move your hand over hers resting on the bed between you. 

“It’s alright, Ellie.”

When her eyes start to glisten, you’re caught off guard, and your heart crashes to the ground. She pulls her hand out from under yours to rub at her eyes. She keeps rubbing as she sniffles, and a whimper slips out as she says again, “I’m sorry.”

Automatically, your hand goes to stoke over her hair. The words slip out, “No, baby, it’s ok,” and you’re instantly worried that you’ve crossed a line, but she doesn’t flinch, just keeps her hands over her eyes. So, as she shakes a sob that escapes through clenched teeth, you continue petting her hair. “I’m not mad at you. It’s ok.”

Her breathing is shaky and cut by hiccups but she tries her best to recover quickly. When she takes her hand away from her face, she still tries to hide her eyes by flicking her eyes down and back to yours before finally allowing herself to meet your gaze. You smooth your hand over her hair a few more times before laying your hand down on the bed. Then, she surprises you again by taking it in hers, not breaking your gaze. 

“Don’t worry about it, Ellie.” You whisper. “You were dealt a shitty hand. I don’t expect you to be calm and collected about it all the time.” She sniffles and blinks. “And I’m sorry if you felt like I was trying to say you can’t handle yourself. I know you can. I just wish you didn’t have to… be treated like an adult. It’s unfair. You deserve to be able to act like a kid. You can, you know, you have, and it’s not a bad thing. You’re fourteen. Fourteen sucks without having to deal with a fucking apocalypse.” This gets a small giggle out of her, and she sniffles again. 

“What was fourteen like before?” She asks. 

You sigh, looking at the wall while you think of a general answer. “Hormones, confusion, middle school, where you have to deal with other kids hormones and confusion… arguing with your parents, kind of realizing they’re also just… people. It’s stressful.” You look back at her, “Not like this, though. This is a different kind of stress. This isn’t something any kid should ever experience. I mean, adults too, no one should have to deal with any of this. But kids especially. You… you’re strong. You’re tough. You’re very… durable.” You both giggle lightly. “But you shouldn’t have to be as tough as you are. I think you’re kickass.” Again, you both smile a half giggle. “I have a lot of respect for you, Ellie. I want you to know that. I’m very proud of you.” 

Ellie’s brow pulls in but then releases, and she breathes in deeply. She bites her lip. 

Just then, you hear the door open and Joel step into the room. She closes her eyes but keeps hold of your hand. Joel’s steps pause and he sighs. Then you feel the bed shift under his weight as he sits down behind you. 

“She asleep?” He whispers. 

“Yeah.” You lie, keeping her eye on her, knowing that it will give him the chance to do whatever he wouldn’t do if he knew she would know. 

Proving you right, you watch as his hand comes over to stroke Ellie’s hair. Then, the bed shifts again and Joel replaces his hand with a soft kiss over her hair. When he moves back up, you feel his hand over your shoulder, and then his lips on your temple. 

Joel doesn’t talk much, he’s always been someone that speaks through his actions. The words that betray his lips come through through his arm thrown over your chest in the presence of danger, his keen finger on a trigger, and through gentle touch like this. 

You lay in bed with two unfortunate souls, both too soft for their own good in a world that demands too little of it. But through the sorrow comes some kind of unfathomable gratitude for their presence, their unbelievable strength, but also the disloyalty of the human spirit to the deadening of the heart. The world today is dissonance, a cataclysm of the heart. 

Grief sings its tune in a cacophony of Joel and Ellie but you listen with open ears and an open heart. The refrain is the question of how anything could make any of this worth it, and the bridge is moments like these. Spoken, unspoken, thought, felt, Joel, Ellie, and you, a song of love and loss, a melodic fight between the head and heart and soul recorded in time. You provide the chorus that they dare not sing, but the needle over the track falls under Joel’s fingers in Ellie’s hair, his lips on your skin, and the melody lulls you to sleep.

[venstm]

@starshinc continued from here !

For  all  the  enthusiasm  Midoriya  put  into  hero  work  Denki  should  have  anticipated  he  would  give  it  his  all  when  it  came  to  studying  too.  Yeah,  he’d  attended  study  sessions  at  Yaoyorozu’s  with  the  others  but  always  felt  like  he  was  grasping  at  straws  futilely,  she  had  this  extensive  well  of  knowledge  that  whilst  impressive  was  also  kinda  intimidating.  Showing  up  with  his  book  tucked  under  his  arm  &  a  slither  of  hope  that  he  could  pass  had  usually  seen  him  through  most  of  their  book  -  work  but  with  exams  looming  on  the  horizon  &  the  ineludible  knowledge  that  he  was woefully unprepared  he  couldn’t  help  but  beam  &  offer  endless,  sometimes  excessive  thanks  for  all  of  his  classmate’s  help.  They’d  ran  through  a  myriad  of  different  study  techniques  until  they  found  one  that  stuck,  sometimes,  it  had  felt  akin  to  throwing  something  at  the  wall  with  his  fingers  crossed  &  going,  gods  let  that actually work,  only  to  find  out  the  information  was  just  as  elusive  ten  minutes  later  when  the  question  was  referred  back  to.  Now,  however,  after  working  their  way  through  an  astounding  amount  of  all-might  themed  snacks  &  some  freshly  cut  fruit,  he  finally  felt  like  he  had  gotten  his  footing  with  it.  ❝  i  shoulda  known  you’d  be  the  guy  to  ask  about  stuff  like  this  midoriya. ❞  he  flashed  him  a  grin,  peeling  back  another  fluorescent  sticky  note  &  shoving  it  into  his  book  with  a  note  : important  information  for  hero  ethics  underneath  it  &  then  smoothing  it  over  with  his  thumb.  This  lesson  was  especially  gruelling,  cramming  even  weeks  in  advance  felt  like  someone  was  breathing  down  the  back  of  his  neck.  He  didn’t  think  even  with  this  break-neck  pace  they  were  gonna  make  it  in  time,  the  finish  lines  so  far  in  the  distance  he  couldn’t  envision  it  even  if  he  squinted.  Still,  they  were  putting  up  a  valiant  effort,  surely  that  had  to  count  for  something. 

❝  im  gonna  go  grab  more  snacks,  did  you  want . . . ?  ❞  his  eyes  flitted  up  only  to  catch  the  other’s  chin  resting  in  his  palm  &  his  heavy  lids  drooping  shut,  something  between  an  incredulous  noise  &  laughter  slipped  past  him,  stifled  by  the  back  of  his  hand,  not  wanting  to  rudely  wake  the  guy  up.  ❝  never  mind,  looks  like  that  last  topic  ko’d  you.  ❞  he  mused,  raising  from  the  tablet  to  grab  a  blanket  laying  at  the  edge  of  his  bed  &  drape  it  over  his  shoulders.  It  was  then  that  those  wide  eyes  flickered  open,  half  -  lidded  &  somnolent.  He  wasn’t  really  sure  if  midoriya  was  looking  at  him  or  somewhere  else  entirely  by  that  point. 

  ❝  ya  know,  i  think  it might be,  definitely  sticking  better  than  the  repeating  the  sentence  ten  times  over  &  hoping  for  the  best  did.  ❞  he  gave  a  thumbs  up,  channelling  that  same  enthusiasm  midoriya  did  when  he  wasn’t  zoning  in  &  out  of  consciousness.  ❝  we  got  two  options  midoriya,  so  i  kinda need’ta  know  your  input,  we  can  call  it  here  or  i  can  get  us  something  to  drink  ?  i  mean  it  is  almost  one  am,  maybe  it’s  time  to  throw  in  the  towel. ❞  he  allows  the  ends  of  the  blanket  to  sink  down  around  him  before  easing  back  down  across  from  him,  stretching  his  arms  above  his  head  languorously  &  rolling  his  shoulders.   ❝  we  got  heaps  of  time,  so  if  you’re  ready  to  call  it  quits  i  won’t  hold  it  against  you. ❞ 

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

Fingers Crossed-Miguel Diaz

A/n: All right Miguel is my favorite character from the show even though I do like other ones, but he's my first favorite. Anyway I honestly just thought of this idea from listening to this song. So I hope you enjoy it, and I also hope it's not confusing. If it is, let me know and I'll do some editing.

Song: Fingers Crossed

Written: Lauren Spencer-Smith

-Samantha

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

'Introduced me to your family, Watched my favorite shows on your TV, Made me breakfast in the mornin', When I got home from work'

I was walking hand and hand with Miguel to go over to his house. I was super nervous to meet his mom and grandmother even though he told me that his mom would love me and his grandmother already adores me.

" Babe, you all right?" he asked

I turned to him and smiled. " Yeah, I'm great."

He didn't look at all convinced, but went with it. He gave my hand a squeeze when we were getting closer to his house. I took a breath before he opened the door of his house.

" Mom, I'm home. I brought over Y/n." he announced

All I could do was stand by the door which made Miguel chuckle before pulling me gently over to his mother. She gave me a smile. " Oh my. You're  so beautiful. I'm so glad Miguel found someone like you." She gushed

I let out a small giggle at Miguel's face due to what his mother said. " Thank you Ms. Diaz. Miguel is so wonderful. You've raised him to be a perfect gentleman." I said

She smiled and looked over at him before back over to me. " Oh, honey, just call me Carmen."

I just nodded, I was about to ask where Mrs. Diaz was, but she came over and smiled. She then patted Miguel on the arm and said, " Elegiste uno bueno Miggy."

Miguel just smiled and looked over at me. She then came over to me, and stated..." Eres preciosa."

I smiled and told her " Gracias"

Miguel then told them..." Well we're going to go to my room."

They smiled and Carmen said..." Be safe Miggy and the door stays open."

All he did was pull me away from them. I just laughed at how red he got. We both then got comfy on his bed with his laptop to watch y/f/s.

'Makin' plans to travel 'round the world, Said we'd always put each other first, Old love songs we used to play to funny, now I hate you'

I was sitting at home thinking of all the plans Miguel missed. We were supposed to go to the movies tonight, but he called and said something came up. I couldn't respond to him because I didn't know what to say. I just want to go out with my boyfriend, but I don't even think we're together anymore. I mean we're not physically broken up, but I feel like we should be. All I could think of was hating him and hating this whole relationship.

'Shoulda paid attention to my friends, Tellin' me how bad it's gonna end, Always giving' their opinions, Now I wish I would have listened'

"I told you he was gonna go back to that bitch Sam." Tory said

I could feel my eyes get watery. I then felt a warm arm wrap around me. I could tell it was Robby due to his cologne he wears.

"We're here for you Y/n/n. We won't let him near you okay. We promise." he said

I saw Tory nod her head and then she wrapped her arm around my waist from the other side. I'm so happy to be in my best friend's arms. " Thanks guys. I don't know what I would die without you."

They both let out a chuckle. " You probably wouldn't survive one minute." Tory said

I let out a small laugh which made them both smile. I then just spent the rest of the day curled up next to them.

'I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not, You don't deserve the one thing that you lost'

I was watching Miguel and Sam from inside my car practicing their karate. I really wish I could apologize for whatever made him want to cheat, but Tory told me that there's nothing I should be sorry for.

Miguel's POV

I saw Y/n's car out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't help, but feel bad for the things I'm doing. I just never got over Sam and it was probably a mistake to cheat and not break up with her. " Sam, one second."

She  looked over to see what my attention was on and grinned. " Just text her and say it's over."

I know I shouldn't have listened, but all I could think was Sam. Once I shot the text we got back to our sparring.

Your POV

I heard my phone ding and the words on my screen broke my heart. I didn't respond. All I did was throw my phone in the back seat and let out a frustrated scream. I then drove off to Tory's job just to be close with her, since I don't want to be alone right now.

'Now, I...                                                                                                                                                                                             Remember when you'd call me late a night, And I gave you my hours and advice just tryna fix you, And all you daddy issues, But now, I don't even miss you anymore'

I heard my phone ring, so I picked it up and smiled. " Hey Miggy."

I could tell he was smiling. " Hey babe."  

I asked " So, what advice do you need this time?"

He let out a gasp. " How do you know I don't just want to hear your voice?"

I let out a giggle, " Cause Miggy, I know you."

" Okay you caught me. I just need some comfort tonight."

I sighed " Why? What happened? Did Kyler come at you again or did something happen with Johnny?"  

He just chuckled. " Slow down Y/n. Breath,  it's just that Johnny is working us so much that I'm physically tired all the time."

" Awe babe. Why not just have a sit down conversion with him and explain to him how it makes you feel. I don't want you to get too stressed out from doing too much."

He let out a sigh. " Thanks babe."

'So, I...                                                                                                                                                                                                           I want all the tears back that I cried, All the hours spent given advice on how to write your songs, All you did was prove me wrong, When you said you love me, Well, you must've had your fingers crossed.'

All I could think about was helping Miguel with hours of karate moves. I helped him by telling him how to improve and he would always smile at me.

" Thanks babe."

I nodded and gave him a small side hug and he added a small kiss to the side of my head. " I love you. " he whispered in my right ear

I smiled and whispered in his left ear, " I love you too."

But now I know the truth he never really loved me I think. Was it all an act to make Sam jealous?

'(Oh-oh, oh-oh) Your fingers crossed, (Oh-oh, oh-oh) Your fingers crossed, (Oh-oh, oh-oh) Oh, when you said you loved me, Well, you must've had your fingers crossed.'

I was hanging out with Tory and Robby at the roller rink having a blast. I then thought I saw Miguel, but then when I looked again he was gone. I felt a hand make contact with my shoulder. " Y/n, you all right?" Tory asked

I turned to face them and smiled. " Yea, all good." I paused for a second before starting..." You know what I'm going to get closer."

They both looked shocked, but also supportive.

" Yes,You go girl. You tell him." Tory said

Robby just smiled, " Go get him and put him in his place."

I let out a soft chuckle while waving and headed for the door.

'Oh, I...                                                                                                                                                                                         I want all the tears back that I cried, All the hours spent giving advice on how to write your songs, All you did was prove me wrong, Wish you said you loved me, When you didn't have your fingers crossed.'

I was preparing to knock on Miguel's door when I heard another door open. I spun around to find Johnny. I gave him a friendly smile. He smiled back and walked over to his car.

" Hey, Don't be afraid, I know what he did was very wrong and he deserves what's coming to him, but you were my favorite out of all the girls he's gone out with." he said with a wink

I let out a small giggle, " Thanks Johnny." I smiled

He just nodded and went in his car. I took one last breath and then knocked on the door. It opened and he was standing right there. I gave him a small smile.

" Um...I just wanted you to know that I always loved you Miggy. I don't know about you, but that's how I feel and I don't think I can ever stop loving you. Miggy, I really wish you the best and really hope she makes you happy. That's basically all I wanted to say, so I guess see you around Miggy."

He opened his mouth, but then closed it and gave me a small sad smile. " See you around Y/n/n." he whispered

I gave him one more glance before heading to the direction I parked.

Miguel's POV

All I could do was watch her walk away. I know what I did was wrong and I wish I could take everything back, but I have to suffer the consequences. Once her car left my site I gently closed the door and put my head against it.

" Oh Miggy, everything will get better I promise." I heard my mom say. I then turned to lean into her warm embrace. " Thanks mom." I whispered into her shoulder

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

I hope you all love this one. I know I do, I think it's definitely different and I'm proud of it. Again I really hope it's not confusing.

-Samantha

[12gaugefalls]

Something Worth Fighting For (Sinclair brothers x F!OC) (PLATONIC)

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

I've gotten permission from the original person who made the sister Sinclair AU to use it. The person is @loveandmurders , they will also be tagged below, please for the love of everything go check them out! They are an amazing writer and absolutely love them! But let's continue on to some background for this stuff, the first few chapters are going to be background for the story.  The ages of the Sinclairs are; Bo and Vincent: 10, Lester: 7, and Emily: 4. Ill say when we get to current times.

TW: cursing, child abuse, mentions of child abuse, yelling, child neglect (let me know if I've missed anything)

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

(Bo's pov)

From the very beginning, it was as if the universe was out to get them. Bo thought that God hated him and his siblings. With him being strapped to that damn high chair and his white-hot rage, Vincent's self-esteem completely hitting rock bottom and being berated into being the perfect artist, Lester trying his best to be cared for and loved, and Emily, his baby sister, and the youngest Sinclair, fighting to just get a place in the family.

He was completely sure that the two youngest kids were honest accidents. But he would never tell them that, he loved them too much for that.

Currently, Bo was doing homework in the room he and Vincent shared. Despite what most people thought, Vince wasn't the favorite. He was abused just like the rest of them. Bo was sure that his parents were not meant to be parents....at all. He was getting bored with the math in front of him. There wasn't much sound in the house, their father was out helping someone in town, their mother and Vincent were in her workshop at the House of Wax, and he could never be sure where Lester was. Lester was a wild card, he could be in the woods playing with bugs or outside with the kids down the street.

Bo thought of his baby sister, she was the smallest out of all of them, being born prematurely. She had a rougher start than all of them too. Within days of her birth, she was handed over to her siblings, luckily he and Vincent had raised Lester, so they knew what to do, at least within reason. Snapping out of his thoughts as he heard the sound of small footsteps walking toward him, he turned in his seat. There was the person he happened to just be thinking about. Emily was standing in the doorway, in her hand-me-downs, her hair a complete mess, and a small teddy bear in her grasp.

He smiled softly at her, earning a small smile in return. He always felt calm with her around. She was his and his brothers little sunshine.

"What's up, darlin'?" he said in a soft tone. She disliked loud noises and harsh tones. Coming closer to him, she raised her arms, something she did when she wanted someone to pick her up. He complied immediately, never one to keep her waiting.

" I jus wanted to play wit you!" She squeaked out. "Do ya wanna play?" Hope shined in her eyes, he knew immediately he couldn't say no. "Sure thin', kid" she quickly hugged him tightly, with a small 'yay!' to company it. With her being so small, Bo was able to put her on his hip. He wished she'd stay small forever, but that wouldn't be fair.

(Small time skip)

A few hours of playing and Lester joining in at some point, the front door opened. Knowing by the footsteps alone, the three children knew who just came home. Their father, Dr. Victor Sinclair and by the heaviness of his steps he was not in the best of moods. As much as Bo hated him, he needed to give Lester and Emily time to clean up before he saw and something worse happened. The two were cleaning up fast with Bo's help but it didn't seem to be enough.

"What the hell is all this shit on the floor?" Their fathers voice was raised but not quite yelling yet. "We're cleanin it up. Give us a second.." Bo snapped at him. "Well you shoulda had this shit cleaned up before I got home!" Victors voice had raised on the cusp of yelling and Bo could feel the anger rising in him. "And how the hell were we supposed ta know when you get home?!" Bo shouted at him, turning to face him. He could hear them finish up cleaning and than Lester taking Emily out of the room, while Victor was distracted with Bo.

It was going to be a long night.

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

Taglist: @loveandmurders

A/N: I really hope whoever reads this really likes this. I want to thank again loveandmurders for giving me permission to use their AU, I really appreciate it! Have a lovely day!

[summersnow82]

Oh, the Turtles You'll Meet: Part 7 of That Familiar Feeling

Or....

Leo does a deep dive into his counterpart's memories, and here we are. Enjoy.

Fanfiction_TMNT Bayverse/ 2003 crossover

Author’s note: Part 7 of That Familiar Feeling. Hello, my lovelies. Thank you for reading. I've got a few other fics I've been neglecting, so it may take a bit to get the next part written. Please bear with me.

.....

The first time they’d laid eyes on her she’d been an open wound; a massive, bloody, pulpy mess they could barely distinguish as female. The whirling vortex spit her out into the lab like it was trying to remove a bad taste from it’s mouth. Her body slapped against the ground, a motionless heap, and the portal closed; it’s business was complete.

The autodocs had their work cut out for them, and as Donnie was quick to note, had they been in another time with lesser technology they would’ve been burying a body instead of trying to heal one. It was weeks before she began to look human again, and even then Donnie cautioned against lowering the force field. Until she was stable he refused to move her.

“Do you think she’ll ever wake up?” Leo asked one morning as Donnie was running his ritual diagnostics.

“The autodocs have done some amazing work,” Donnie said, his hand waving over the tablet in his hand. “I think she’s got a chance.”

“I still say we shoulda dropped her at the hospital,” Raph grumbled. Leo said nothing, but he knew Raph was still grumpy over their experience with Dark Leo.

“She came out of a portal, Raph. That doesn’t intrigue you just a little?” Donnie asked.

Raph shrugged. “More like what happened to get her in that kinda condition in the first place. I mean, what the shell happened to her?”

No one answered that question. They’d seen a lot of terrible things, but nothing like the bloody pulp this woman had once been.

“Once she’s stable I’d like to get her cleaned up,” Donnie said. “The autodocs can only do so much.” He finally raised his eyes from his tablet. His voice sounded tenuous as he asked softly, “Any volunteers?”

Mikey was standing right outside the force field’s barrier. He’d been unusually quiet when it came to their mystery patient. “I’ll do it,” he said, raising a hand to signal Donnie’s attention.

It didn’t surprise any of his brothers when Mikey followed through on his word. Donatello had laid out several thick towels on a stainless steel operating table, and the brothers gingerly transferred their now stable but unconscious house guest onto the towels. Her clothes had been tattered and torn, and there wasn’t much left, so they placed more towels over her body to offer her some privacy. Mikey washed her hair until the water was no longer brown from the caked on blood, and he delicately sponged her body clean. They would later lie and tell her the autodocs were capable of this work to spare her modesty, but if you’d asked Michelangelo he would’ve told you there was nothing remotely arousing about caring for someone so badly abused.

His care for her didn’t end there, though. When she’d finally woken up he’d spent hours outside her locked bedroom door just rambling. He talked about the Silver Sentry, the Turtle Titan, skateboarding, the future, their home in New York, life in the sewers, his favorite pizza – anything to give her a sense she was safe. It was a well known fact people who want to kill you don’t sit outside your door reading you comic books.

At least, that’s what Mikey told his brothers when they’d ask just what the shell he was doing.

Sometimes Cody or Donnie would join him. They all took turns bringing her food, and speaking (or in Raph’s case grunting) through the door, but Mikey was the consistent one. He was the one who heard her crying, or groaning in her sleep, and all too often, he heard her scream. He promised himself then and there he was never going to let anyone else hurt her ever again.

Of course, Mikey was still naive enough to believe every promise made can be kept.

…………..

When she finally did come out of her room for the first time it was when she suspected everyone would be sleeping. She crept around the penthouse taking in her surroundings, and only forgot herself when she looked out the window. The futuristic New York skyline was nothing short of breathtaking, and it was even more incredible at night.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” She spun, pressing her back against the glass, and stared at Raphael. He’d seen the looks before; the fear, the confusion, the disgust. Something about the way this woman was staring at him felt different, though. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he said gently, holding his hands up, and taking a few steps back. “Began to wonder if you were ever coming outta that room. Ya hungry?”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, and she frowned. “Is this,” her voice came out broken and raspy from disuse, and she swallowed hard. “Is this real? This place? You? Me?”

Raph nodded. “Yup. ‘Fraid so. Not a big fan of the future, but here we are.”

Her frown deepened, and she looked down. “Future,” she murmured. She looked up quickly, her eyes wide with fear. “There was a man,” she started.

“No man. Not here. You don’t gotta worry about him hurting you again. Promise.” Raph clenched his fists as he spoke. He’d had plenty of time to stew over just what kind of torture leaves a human body looking like a bloody wad of meat, and he had strong feelings of retribution.

She shook her head, and he noticed she looked more upset now. “No. There was a man with me. Tall, blonde, blue eyes. He must be here. He has to be.” Her voice was still broken and cracked, but it was getting louder with the stress of her words.

Raph frowned. He wasn’t the best with emotions, and an emotionally distressed woman was out of his wheelhouse. “Listen, lady, I’m tellin’ ya you don’t have to worry about it. You’re safe. There’s no man here.” He took a step forward, and she slammed her back against the glass.

“No no no no no no no no no no,” she cried, thrusting a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries.

He froze, suddenly quite fearful himself. He’d experienced fear before – shell, sometimes he even liked it – but he’d never witnessed anyone this terrified. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he whispered softly, desperately.

She was sliding down the glass window, biting her knuckles to muffle her cries. “He’s dead. Oh my gosh, he’s dead. He’s dead. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Oh, God, please no.” Her pleas were rising in volume, and before he could react she bit her knuckle hard enough to draw blood, and let out a devastating wail. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she opened her mouth to scream again.

“Raph, what the shell?” Leo’s eyes were wide as he burst into the room with Splinter and Cody on his heels. Donnie and Mikey were seconds behind, and they all took in the woman before them in the throes of a full blown panic attack. “Miss?” Leo asked softly. He was moving slowly closer to her, and when she realized it she thrust out an arm, and scrambled away until she hit a corner in the wall.

“Don’t touch me, please don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Leo,” Donnie cautioned.

“I won’t touch you,” Leo promised, crouching down to be on her level. “And we won’t hurt you. I promise.” She’d closed her eyes again, and was trying to get control over her labored breathing. “Our autodocs were able to heal you, but you’ve been out for weeks.” He tilted his head. No response. “Is there someone we can call for you?”

She shook her head, but refused to meet his eyes. “I need Sean. I need Sean. He has to be here, but he’s not which means he’s dead, which means they killed him too, which means…,” her voice broke off into a sob, and she buried her face in her hands. “I can’t do this without him,” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said gently. He felt helpless – what could he say to her?

“We could try to locate this Sean for you,” Donnie offered, and once again Leo was thankful his brother was so kind and gentle.

She shook her head. “If he’s not here… if he’s not here,” her voice broke again, and she tucked her knees up to her chin. “I can’t do this without him,” she repeated in a barely audible whisper before her sobs took control again.

………….

It was, unsurprisingly, Master Splinter who was able to calm her down. He moved slowly, kneeling down a foot across from her, and waited. When she did lift her head she gasped, hiccuped, and made a valiant effort to control her breathing. “You are safe here, Miss.”

She swallowed hard, wiped her nose on her sleeve, and nodded. “I know.” She hiccuped again. “Bad guys don’t save a nobody just to kill them later.”

Master Splinter tilted his head to the a touch. “I do not think you are a nobody. I do not think anyone here thinks that.” He paused. “I am called Splinter. These are my sons: Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael,” he said, gesturing to each of the turtles. “And this,” he waved a hand towards Cody, “Is Cody Jones, our benefactor, host, and inventor of the technology that saved your life.” He looked back at her, a gentle smile on his furry face. “May I ask what we should call you?”

Her eyes darted to the side, and she gave a shaky exhale. “Sean says we shouldn’t use our real names. It’s not safe, and…,” she stopped herself, and ducked her head again.

Donatello’s brow furrowed. “Does this have anything to do with the whirling vortex that spit you out a few weeks ago?”

She blinked, surprised, and sat up a bit. “I landed here?” They all nodded, and she looked even more surprised.

“We arrived here in a… similar fashion,” Leo said.

“Time travel,” Cody added, moving closer.

She sat up straighter, and her grip relaxed a touch. “You too?” Again, they all nodded.

“Perhaps now you would feel comfortable sharing your name with us,” Master Splinter suggested, but she still seemed hesitant.

“My friends call me Belle,” she said softly, tucking her head back behind her knees.

“It is an honor to finally meet you, Miss Belle,” Splinter said, giving a small bow. “I know you have many questions for us, and we for you. Perhaps this conversation would be more pleasant at the table with some refreshments.”

“I am a little hungry,” she admitted, almost as if she were embarrassed by it.

“I imagine you are. Let’s see what we have.”

She was bashful requesting food, hesitant to lift her head to meet the eyes of those around her, and very wary of any potential contact. She answered questions slowly, cautiously, and as briefly as possible, so Splinter took the opportunity to tell her the story of how he came to be a single father of four turtles, how he named them, taught them, and how they came to be here in the year 2105.

“When your portal opened up there was a spike in the seismic readings. It was brief, and most wouldn’t think anything of it, but I could certainly run a report to see if there have been any other similar spikes. Maybe Sean came after you when it was safer,” Donatello offered. Her eyes remained lowered, but a small smile graced her pale, cracked lips.

“Yes, thank you. I would appreciate that.”

“So this Sean guy’s a friend?” Raph asked, cocking his head to the side. He still felt strangely protective of the meek woman sitting across from him.

“He’s my best friend,” she answered softly. “He’s family.” Mikey noticed how she seemed to shrink further into her chair, and the fat teardrops that rolled silently off her nose onto her clasped hands.

“Here.” He held out a tissue to her, and she swallowed hard, accepting it without meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not normally like this. Before…,” she choked, and ducked her head trying to regain her composure.

“What did they do to you?” Cody asked softly.

“Cody!”

“Dude!”

“I’m sorry,” Cody said. “I’ve just never seen anything like…,” he trailed off, realizing how his words sounded. “I’m sorry.”

“It is late,” Master Splinter said. “And such matters take time to discuss. Perhaps you will feel comfortable enough to share with us at a later time, but please do not feel pressured.”

She nodded. “I…um…I know I’ve been an inconvenience to all of you. I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“An inconvenience?” Leo asked, arching an eye ridge, and exchanging looks with his brothers.

“We don’t have hair,” Mikey chirped. “I mean, Cody does, and Master Splinter has fur, but we don’t. Besides, a pretty girl like you is never an inconvenience.”

“I’m not pretty anymore,” she whispered. “Not after what he did to me.”

Again, the turtles exchanged looks, but no one spoke – they didn’t know what to say.

Finally, Cody said, “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. It’s been pretty lonely with just Serling and me. I appreciate the company.”

Later, when she was better mentally and physically, she would tell Cody how much his offer meant to her. In that moment though all she could do was bury her face in her hands and cry from relief.

[shadofiredragon]

Legends Never Die

{ Imagine my horror when I realized that I not only was behind in putting up chapter 7- but also chapter 6!! So, here’s two for you guys!! Shoot @000marie198 a thank you not only for being a great motivator and editor, but for keeping up with LND on AO3 and posting updates on here for you guys. Otherwise you’d have to wait for my sorry self to update late.

Anyway- please enjoy! }

( First | Previous | Next )

Part 1 ~ Immortal Escape

Chapter 6 - Where I Belong

Sonic helplessly watched as his little brother ran upstairs, angry footsteps pounding through the upstairs hallway. A loud slam from one of the bedroom doors made him flinch, a pang of guilt wringing his chest.

He didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the hurt and betrayal that had shattered Tails' wide blue eyes.

"I didn't mean to make him upset," Knuckles mumbled from next to him and Sonic had to resist the urge to bristle.

Knuckles was his friend too, as clueless as he could be sometimes. And Sonic knew that the knucklehead really meant well.

He's just really bad at pulling that off.

Sighing, Sonic turned towards the red echidna, crossing his arms expectantly.

"Well, it happened. Now, can you please explain what's going on? At least fill me in on why you thought coming in here and dropping that info-missile would be a good idea."

Knuckles tensed.

"I just thought you both would want to know. And- ya know- I've always been a 'rip the bandaid off' kind of guy."

"Yeah well- this is kinda a big bandaid, Knux." Sonic's foot began tapping. "You don't think for something this big you shoulda- I don't know- taken it slow?"

Knuckles snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Funny to hear that coming from you of all people."

"Hey, just because I run fast on the track doesn't mean I blow past everything else in life."

"What, and I do?!"

Sonic's hands went up with a sigh of exasperation.

"You know that's not what I meant-!”

Knuckles didn't look up at him, allowing for Sonic to take a long breath.

"Look." The hedgehog stepped forward, laying a hand on the echidna's shoulder. His tone softened, "I know you meant well. But, man, you just turned our little buddy's world upside down."

Violet eyes emotionlessly studied the floor.

"He's still just a kid, Knuckles. And half of his life's been spent trying to fit in. Now suddenly you come in claiming that he's not even Mobian?" Sonic shrugged. "I don't know, but maybe this conversation could have used a little more planning? And discretion?"

The echidna ceded with a heavy sigh, stepping back and collapsing into the couch while rubbing his forehead.

"I get it. And you're right. It probably would've been better if it weren't so fast. But I have no idea how I would've been able to break that kind of news easily anyway."

Sonic relaxed.

"S'okay."

They waited in the beats of silence that followed, giving Sonic time to think.

And he didn't particularly like it.

His brow creased and Knuckles looked up at him curiously.

"What?"

Sonic didn't answer immediately. Instead he took a seat next to Knuckles on the sofa, expression still thoughtful.

"Are... Are you sure you're right?"

Knuckles raised a brow.

"About?"

Sonic rolled his eyes, waving a hand out.

"All this Kitsune business. You really think he's one of 'em?"

Knuckles shrugged, frowning.

"It's just what the Master Emerald told me. And it's not like it doesn't make sense..."

Sonic didn't answer.

Knuckles continued, "I mean, you've felt him too right? There's always been this... this-"

"A light." Sonic finished, exhaling. A small smile flickered across his muzzle as nostalgia deepened his gaze. "Like a little spark in a world of embers."

"Uh... Yeah..." Knuckles scratched his chin, watching the hedgehog with a calculating gaze, "Something like that."

Sonic shook his head. That distant look in his eyes disappeared as they veered up to the floor above the staircase.

"I need to go talk to him."

Knuckles' expression fell. "Yeah. And I think I do too..."

Sonic stood and turned his head to look down at Knuckles incredulously.

Knuckles waved a hand.

"No, not more of this. I need to- apologize. And- I'll ask him if he wants to know more first."

Sonic frowned.

"There's more?"

Knuckles shrugged, "Being Kitsune comes with a pretty hefty dose of powers."

"Okay... Just-" Sonic walked over to the staircase, ascending the steps with ease- "Let me talk to him alone first. And let's just avoid the whole topic as much as possible for a while. 'Kay?"

Knuckles leaned back into the couch cushions.

"Alright."

And with that, Sonic had disappeared up the stairs.

~•~•~•~

It took a good couple hours before Tails had finally come around. Knuckles once again apologized to the kit for his brashness, and the two older Mobians decided to comfort the fox by allowing him to pick a movie for the three to watch downstairs.

The rest of the evening went by arguably smoothly. Knuckles had popped popcorn and provided some mints from the secret stash in one of the kitchen cupboards, which Sonic had graciously revealed to him.

The hedgehog himself, however, never left the fox cub's side. Carrying him down the steps in his arms, like he used to do when they were younger and only slowed to pull out a blanket from the hall closet. With as much tender care as a mother for her newborn, Sonic settled them down onto the couch, wrapping both himself and the young fox in the soft blanket.

Though, admittedly, said fox probably had more of the blanket than the blue hedgehog.

Even so, Tails never deviated from the tight hold on his brother. Always leaning on him in some way or another.

Sonic allowed it. Absorbing the weight and warmth of Tails' small body pressing against him and his very best to fight against the waves of insecurity and distress with comfort.

Knuckles wordlessly took the open spot next to them, setting the snacks on the coffee table and starting the movie.

Believe it or not, Tails did begin to feel a bit better. The hole in his heart hadn't completely gone. But simply being with his brother and friend, watching this movie like everything was normal, did help ease the shock and pain of the day.

He even found himself smiling when Sonic commented on some outrageously unrealistic detail in the movie.

He nudged closer to the hedgehog, closing his eyes and drinking in the blue speedster's constantly radiating energy. He felt Sonic's arm drape over him and a profound sense of security filled his heart with peace.

Mystical being or not, he knew, with all of his heart, that this was where he'd always belong.

~•~•~•~

The hot afternoon sun beat down on the sand-blown turf, searingly hot as it peered down at the black speck racing through its domain.

Tails found himself sweating under the sun's burning glare, a sheen of sweat dampening the fur under his leather uniform. A thick cloud of dust billowed up behind him, the roar of his hover-cycle's engine breaking the otherwise deathly silence.

He'd long ago left the city limits, and now, miles of desert wasteland stretched before him. Scarlet boulders, which had once been beautiful natural formations, lay in rubbled heaps. Scattered between these boulders were the remnants of a metal army, their twisted limbs reaching from the depths of the wasteland like black claws reaching for the dull blue sky above, speckled and overgrown by dry, sparse shrubbery.

Years of wind-blown sand had covered most of these ancient relics, burying them deeper within the folds of time until even this last remnant was forgotten.

Did anyone remember what had happened in history anymore?

Tails' eyes scanned the horizons through his protective helmet, specialized with a net-screen displayed on the visor. He couldn't help but marvel at how much time had changed things. It felt like only a few years ago when seventy percent of Mobius was still green and alive.

Now though, it was nothing but ruin. The world crumbling and drying all on its own, with only a few remnants of fertile land where most fruits and plants were grown, shipped and sold worldwide.

It truly was a marvel. And, as he'd grown accustomed to his long life on the world, he'd come to accept that change was inevitable.

Change, he'd learned, was something that was best taken in stride and with little resistance. But the young kit inside him, the one who'd known and grown up with green hills, babbling streams, and lush magical islands, grieved for the past. For the rich and beautiful things that had been, and might never be again.

And it's all because of you.

He winced, shaking his head and the thought with it.

That was all conjecture and theory. There was no real evidence that his planet's struggle was because of him. And since he'd resolved to keep this troubling thought to himself, he never sought the opportunity to actually research a definite answer. Mostly because if the others ever found out they'd probably insist he stop and try to convince him as best they could that it wasn't his fault.

A twisted shard of metal stuck up from the ground and Tails had to swerve sharply in order to avoid it.

"Maybe I should just focus on getting back home in one piece," he muttered to himself.

It was a pretty far drive after all.

He'd left early morning, and already the sun had crossed halfway through her charted path.

He glanced at a map on the upper right portion of his net-screen, calculating how far he'd traveled. According to the map he was making good time and, if he kept up his pace, would make it home just before dark. Which was good.

Staying out in the wastelands after dark would be asking for trouble.

Focusing back on the 'road' he hugged his body closer to the hover-cycle's frame and twisted the throttle, shooting off in a could of dust and sand.

No harm in picking up the pace right?

~•~•~•~

The sun was just beginning to hide itself behind the horizon when Tails finally reached the first familiar landmark that would direct him home. Dead End Ravine.

It wasn't a creative name, but the long, black scar in the earth's surface was certainly deserving of it. At least- for anyone who didn't know it's little secret.

Tails let off the throttle, urging the engine's high octave whine to deepen into a growl. Slowing down by a few MPH and turning right, he sped directly alongside the ravine edge.

Looking down into the pitch dark abyss would most likely send him careening into the ravine's hungry clutches, so his eyes stayed locked ahead. Waiting for the next landmark.

There- the rock formation that looked oddly like a bird.

The hover-bike's engine pitched at another hard right turn, Tails circled the rock formation to face back towards the ravine. Without batting an eye he shot straight towards the ravine's ledge. The hover bike obediently carried him over the edge, but luckily for the machine, Tails knew exactly what he was doing.

Yanking the handlebar hard to the left, Tails twisted himself around and the hover bike lurched to follow its new course. For half a second they were in free fall, then, with a rocky jolt, the hoverbike found ground and stabilized itself. It wobbled precariously but Tails was able to keep it balanced, as well as keep himself from actually plummeting into the depths of the ravine below.

Not that I couldn't just fly myself out.

His thumb flicked to a switch on the right handle and the hover bike's headlight flashed to life, illuminating the steep path carved into the ravine's side.

Tails' jaw clenched. This part was always his least favorite.

The path was narrow, with a jagged wall to his left, and a straight drop to destruction on his right. And then there were the turns.

He pumped the brakes, easing up even more on the throttle and letting gravity do its job. The engine slowed to a gentle purr, the sound was Tails' only comfort when he spotted the first turn. A 180 degree turn that stood steeper than the rest of the path, which would allow him to continue alongside the ravine's wall.

His grip tightened on the bike's handles, pumping the brakes to slow himself enough to not wipe out.

The turn drew closer, glaringly obvious in the hover bike's harsh light.

Closer... closer... now-!

Tails yanked the handle bars right, keeping his weight even and ignoring the stomach flip he got from the sharp drop to the next portion of pathway.

He didn't dare relax. This ravine was treacherous. And even though he, himself, would be able to traverse it easily, he didn't want to sacrifice his tech.

Seven sharp turns later and he finally reached the bottom of Dead End Ravine.

Here he could begin to relax, easing to a steady pace of 50 mph. Jagged rock formations jutted up from the bumpy crevice floor, looking like the broken pillars of a forgotten world. In some way, they were.

The air was wet and cold. A bitter breeze somehow made its way down to him, sharpening the wind already kicked up by his hover bike. As the light from the sun continued to fade, Tails found himself plunged further and further into darkness. Eventually, the only light in the cavern came from the glaring yellow headlight of his bike, and the only sign that the sun hadn't completely set yet was the gash of wispy blue stretched in the black sky above him.

But when even that last bit of daylight abandoned the sky, and distant stars flickered into existence, something extraordinary happened.

All along the ravine walls, shimmering fluorescent blue sprang to life, bathing the polished pathway in welcoming light. Tails watched as flowers and thick-leaved ivy opened as if it were growing right before his very eyes.

Rich green and blue light carved intricate lines into the leaves and stems of the ivy, while the centers of their flowers glowed brilliantly in violet, yellow, red and even turquoise. Some flowers shook off their bioluminescent particles, sending them floating eerily in the still ravine air.

Besides the enchanting fauna exploding to life all around Tails, there were also rich blue crystals embedded into the ravine walls. The crystals were scattered throughout the nooks and crannies of the rough canyon rock, casting pulsing blue light over the narrow pathway. They speckled the pitch black stone, trailing about thirty feet up, well above the fauna's reach, and and stretched back along the trail as far as the eyes could see. Glowing even where the plant life dwindled and grew scarce.

Tails admired his surroundings with fond familiarity. The origins of the plant life and glowing crystals was still unknown to him, though he had a couple running theories. The crystals had first begun to show themselves around 100 years ago, and where they went, the mystical plant life followed. The vines and flowers had grown astoundingly quick, but why they would only grow where the crystals would appear was yet another mystery to Tails.

As he sped by the enchanting light show, he marveled that such a fantastical place was unknown to the world above the ravine. Part of him felt sorrow for it, knowing how much joy and awe a sight like this would inspire in the stifled hearts of this broken world. But the rest of him thanked Chaos no one had ever thought to traverse into a treacherous ravine to see what they might find.

Treasure hunters, incapable scientists and big-shot organizations would make quick work of this natural phenomenon. Not to mention that it would be far from ideal for a bunch of humans and mobians to be poking their noses where the lair was supposed to stay hidden.

Then again, with an impressive drop of two and a half miles, it didn't surprise Tails at all that no one had yet discovered this natural phenomenon. At those daunting depths, it was safe to say that any passerby who happened to be daring or stupid enough to near the edge of the ravine would still see no sign of the rich glow below. Which was a great relief since the lair had literally ended up in the very center of the growing fauna and mysterious crystals.

Speaking of which...

The glowing crystals and multicolored fauna became tightly packed, almost completely blanketing the rough walls. Including the one in front of him. Thick-leaved vines draped down from an overpass, creating a thick, hanging wall of soft color.

He slowed the hover-bike to a crawl, the engine happy for a break, and ducked close to the body of the bike as he pushed through the thick foliage. Leaves brushed against his helmet and leather coat, flickering brightly at the contact as if they were happy to see him.

Past the foliage, nestled into a wall of rock, was a large bay door.

Tails relaxed.

Finally home.

His right thumb flicked over a small switch, and the bay door obediently crept open, sliding up into the stone above. As the door opened Tails took one last glance up at the now pitch black sky before pushing the hover-bike forward into the garage. Not a single light inside the cavernous space was on, leaving him in darkness, with only a light glow streaming in from outside and a harsh beam from the front of the hover bike.

Parking it in the center, he flipped the switch once more and the door groaned as it slid closer to the ground. Tails removed his helmet while he waited, golden-orange bangs instantly fell over his eyes and he blew at them to put them back in place. He watched the gap of gentle light grow thinner and thinner. At the last moment a playful breeze whistled through the gap, swirling around Tails' bangs, tossing them about.

A strange sort of melancholy overtook him at the breeze's playful touch. Once again his mind found itself wandering back to times of his youth. Back when his friends would gather round him, laughing and talking, and that same playful breeze would kick up. A telltale sign that a certain blue hedgehog had shown up for the party.

Things were so much simpler then.

The bay door hit the ground with a creaking rattle, cutting off any flowing air from outside.

Tails sighed, sorry to have the little breeze go.

But any melancholy and grief quickly passed, when bright yellow garage lights turned on and a cheery voice sounded from behind him.

"Hey, Tails! What took ya so long?"

( First | Previous | Next )

[stormcrow513]

Hagging Out: March 2023 - Spring Equinox

@graveyarddirt

So my workings in March tend to start at the beginning of the month, at the eighth my birthday, I'm not a huge fan of my birthday, but I already wrote a whole ass rant about it around my actual birthday so I'm not gonna unpack all of that here,

Was neat having the full moon fall on the day before,

Just sence it's a source of anxiety I've been trying to turn it into a source of power instead,

This year that entailed me doing a thorough cleansing of my self, I was at the tail end of being sick so I did some cleaning of my room as well but only as much as I could manage,

I scraped any icky shit off, I cut my hair from shoulder to above my chin, took a cleansing shower, I called up the elements in a circle, called in what I want in my space, filling up the empty spaces left behind in the cleansing,

I tucked away the cut hair in a napkin, I knew I'd want to do something with it, though at the time I wasn't sure exactly what that was yet,

March is kinda a weird time, at the end of it is the Spring Equinox there's a soft toward bright a shiny and green in stores ect. yet it is very much still the tale end of winter, here where I'm born and raised we've always called it The Snowiest Month Of The Year, and yes it deserves to be capitalized, I myself born at the beginning of the month before we start calling it spring, was born in a from repots pretty fucking bad blizzard, like people probably died blizzard, so it's hard to fully get my mind toward Spring, hell recently woke to this

All righty on to the Equinox itself,

So the new moon hit the day after, but it was going to reach new during the day, so when it does that I do my work for Hekate's the day before, so I had the lovely pleasure of doing both the Spring Equinox AND Hekate's night the same day, and I woke up feeling horrible so the day was off to a super start,

I started doing offerings to the Horae (the Season) and the amenoi (the winds) em fall of 2021 I think? On the Equinoxes and the Solstices thanking them, and asking for blessings for the season ahead, it's made a real difference

I give offerings of water and smoke, tobacco, oats, and coco powder, this time I realized we were out of oats I dug around and found the bag of quinoa that ma had bought back when we moved here five years ago when everyone was recommending it, we tried it hated it, forgot we had it opps, I figured well hell at least I'm putting it back into the earth so I used it,

I also before doing this, I've been doing Jason Millers spirit feast (from the new book, guys a shit head but I've picked up some helpful things, this being one) outside everyday the last couple weeks (before I was doing it once a week, there's been a noticeable difference since I've done it everyday) I set that up and left the myrrh burning while I went and did the above, mighta shoulda put this part first oppsie

I dumped out my Kathos jar into the garden,

I took that hair along with the ashes of some old petitions and laid them at the corner/crossroads of my property,

We all are sacrificing here and now for a better tomorrow, so this was a tangible sacrifice of my past, the effort I've been putting in to become a better Witch a better person, I gifted these to Hekate asking Her help to continue to grow to help me keep my feet on the path that will take me to the future I'm so desperately trying to build,

I washed my bedding, cleaned my room, my altars, then waited for night,

I left my dogs out at 9:30pm feed them and the cats, then I let the dogs out at 11:00pm one last time til morning,

So since I use the corner of my property as crossroads a corner on the visible to where I let my dogs out at, and since you're not supposed to look back after you leave Her offerings I wait till after eleven to leave my offerings,

After the dogs are tucked safe and snug, I close the blinds, I set her offerings in my basket, I made up the Kershnips, prayed, showered/cleansed, slipped into my clean ritual dress and Hekate pendant and began ricting her hymn as I walked to the corner, said my standards prayers left out Her offerings (including a handful of dog food for Her hounds) and made my way back inside no looking back,

After I got inside, I called a circle in my room, said a prayer over Her altar passed her statue through frankincense as well as my pendant I applied

@prairiefirewitch s mugwort ointment I received earlier this month

Then I called Hekate into myself, meditated with Her presence, after releasing I did some other work before releasing the circle

And that's that

[deathmetalangel]

LAID BACK (MICHELANGELO X GN!READER)

warnings: none :) just a small blurb imagine just slight mentions of anxiety

mikey just wants y/n to have a nice day

a/n: animal name

Y/n was a fighter. Everyone knew that. No one could tame their spirit nor help nullify their bad habits they had picked up from the constant stress their body was under. Never being able to fully relax, full time spacial awareness, dodgy eyes that surveyed everyone in the room, tense shoulders ready to jump up and attack at a moments notice, a hand tucked by their side ready to grab their weapon with any hint on danger.

Not even the most carefree of their companions seemed to be able to get the a/n to let loose and live like an actual teenager. Or as close as any of them were to being actual teenagers, being mutated turtles and a mutated a/n after all. Sometimes y/n did want to be as laid back as they seemed to be, but they couldn't.

It was like a permanent on switch was flicked on in their head keeping them aware of anything and everything all at once. The turtles didn't blame them. They have seen more battles than the boys will ever. They weren't raised by Splinter, rather found abandoned after their mutation. A horrible fate for someone that was actually quite nice.

The fondest of them by far was Michelangelo. Mikey adored the stone faced a/n and found them quite charming at times. Despite their almost anxiety riddled disposition they were honestly a true friend that if given the chance could make you laugh. And he loved to laugh! Which is why he formulated a plan to specifically get his crush best pal to let loose for a day and have some real fun.

Everything was all planned out. The pizza, the skating, the piñata, and best of all the nerf guns. Who didn't like nerf guns? His exact thinking led him to this very moment. Where he is currently leading y/n to the best pizza place he knows, and the only one that serves overgrown animal teenagers.

"Micheal-"

"Mikey!" He quickly corrects.

"Mikey, why are you leading me to a C graded pizza parlor? It's almost like you want me to get food poisoning."

The turtle laughs awkwardly. "Trust me E has the best pizza! Don't let that pesky health inspector lower your idea of her! It was a bad time, you shoulda been there. It's kinda hard to explain what happened."

Y/n tilts their head slightly intrigued by the vague story. "What, there was roaches?"

"Mice actually."

That was the biggest red flag ever, but deciding to trust him they just go along with it. Besides, y/n wasn't exactly sure mutants could get food poisoning. They're all animals, so shouldn't they have those germs as well? Perhaps it was better to not think about it.

Mikey happily leads them into the parlor and to his "booth". The infamous E waltzes over with a menu, obviously happy to see her best customer.

"What's up Mike? Want the usual?"

"You bet! And uh y/n what do you want? Or we could share! Trust me when I say you'll love my specialty pizza."

Y/n thinks it over for a moment before deciding. "Sure. Why not."

"Alright! One large Mikey special coming right up!"

“Mikey special?” They tilt their head in a quizzical manner.

Mikey laughs. “Yeah I come here so often E named a special after me. You should come here with me more often! Maybe she’ll give your one too.” It was a simple offer. No hidden intentions.

Perhaps that’s what y/n enjoyed most about his company. He was always honest. Though his bright personality did have something to do with it. No matter how flat and void of emotion they could be, he would keep on rambling like it was no big problem.

“Miche- Mikey. Why exactly did you want me to accompany you today? I’m sure one of your brothers would have been much better company. It isn’t that I don’t enjoy spending time with you, it’s simply that I’m sure I’m not as enjoyable to be around as they would be.”

Mikey was practically beaming to hear they liked to be around him. “What? No way! You’re so cool y/n!”

“Cool? No one’s ever called me that before.” They mumble slightly before being interrupted by E being their pizza to the table. Mikey sighs at his friends great timing.

“Uh I’ll just leave this here. On the house Mike!” She quickly rushes off seeing the tension at the table and goes to make herself busy.

Y/n carefully picks up a slice of pizza and starts to eat it. It actually, wasn’t bad. They hum in acknowledgment and give Mikey a gentle smile, “You weren’t wrong about this pizza. It’s pretty good.”

Mikey immediately perks up. “See I told you! I would never lie to you y/n I swear.”

“Yeah. I believe that. I already know that fact though.”

He pauses almost confused. “What do you mean?”

Y/n eats a bit more of their pizza before responding. “You are the most honest person I know Mikey. Which is why I am quite fond of spending time with you. It’s, uh fun.” They nod at the final word choice.

“You have fun? Since when?!” Y/n looks up from their food.

“I know I am not fun to be around, but yes. I find myself sometimes being less on edge. Mostly around you.” If there was any doubt in Mikey’s mind it was long gone.

“Y/niloveyou.”

“What?”

Mikey awkwardly laughs before getting up and grabbing their hand. “Uh come on I have a whole bunch of stuff planned! Let’s go have some real fun. Get you to be as laid back as me.”

“I’m not quite sure that’s possible, but I suppose if you say it will be fun.”

“Great!”

[obeymedweeb]

Brothers find out MCs a murderer in the devildom

Lucifer

Mammon

Leviathan

Asmodeus

Satan

Beelzebub

Belphegor

MC

It was a nice day and everyone was acting normal as always together. Nearing night time everyone noticed MC had left but she hadn't told any of them where she was going.

Brothers POV

"Hey hey has anyone seen Y/N I wanted to get our nails done together" Asmo says upset. "I thought they were gonna be with one of you guys?" Lucifer says says raising an eyebrow. "Well she aint in 'er room so I'll just give 'er a call she'll never reject a call from The Great Mammon" he says proudly. Everyone looking at him annoyed

*silence*(phone is in Y/Ns pocket and accidently answered call)

"Hello-" Mammon freezes, shocked because he hears faint screams on the other side of the phone "p...please we're so-" then he hears a blade cling as if striking someone.

Everyone clearly shocked at Mammons expressions * line cuts* Mammon drops the phone while looking horrified he wastes no time on putting his jacket and shoes on telling everyone what he heard while doing so.

Evveryone quickly following behind him without a plan, going around the town yelling out Y/Ns name.

MCs POV

Walking out the door making sure no one would notice, I put on a cloack and pull out my Katana holding it on my side once outside.

Sneaking up on people I have business with in an alleyway. As I slowly and quietly creep up on them slashing one of their heads scaring the other three guys the leader being in the very back.

"Yo yo yo what up" smirking at them knowibg they can't see me. "W-who said that" scared looking around. "Haha i don't get it. How can a human like me be able to kill demons like you guys so easily?" You guys are more...powerful. I mean, at least you should be." *slashes another on of their heads off scaring the other 2 even more.

"P...please we're so so-" *slash* i see the boss runing to the end of the alleyway before tripping right before the light hits slowly crawling back clearly terrified "I-ILL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST-JUST DONT KILL ME"

I show myself in the light "shoulda thought about that before you made the deal" as I look down at him. *slash* "ugh man they got my clothes all dirty (BUT IM SO BADASS)" pouting looking at my cloak and shirt though "an' I still gotta clean up"

Turning around looking at the mess sighing annoyed then I start dragging all the body's to one spot and piling them up. It was back to where I entered the alley.

Everyones POV

Instead of separating the brothers decided to stick together cuz logic. Anyway they heard some sounds coming from an alley and someone grunting so they went to check it out.

After MC puts the last body on top trying to catch her breath. "Man these dudes are heavy." Lucifer and the others freeze when they recognize the voice. All slowly walking to peek to see.

MC crouching facing away checking out the bodies and hearing "Y-Y/N?" MC gets up and whips her head towards them whipping blood from her face with her hand.

"Hm, well shit" she didn't care much at first just shocked they were all there

They all look so shocked having absolutely nothing to say due to how shocked they were. MC walks towards them slowly reassuring them they'd tell them everything after being stopped by Lucifer, now cupping her face not gently but not rough either. "Y/N what did you do" MC looks down slowly disappointed for not telling them anything thinking they'd never find out.

-cut to when she cleans up and they all head back cuz im fucking lazy-

It's a silent walk back to house with MC walking in front of them

Lucifer pulls out her katana from its holder "I will be confiscating this till you tell me what happened" MC turns around angry and annoyed "WHAT?? YOU CAN'T DO THAT IT'S MI-" Mammon holds her back wrapping his arms around her "Y/N please stop" "MAMMO-" Looking at his sad expression she calms down her anger but feels more regret now.

Mammon slowly releasing her. They arrive at the front door as Lucifer opens the door all of them letting Y/N on first. Everyone still silent behind her.

With a shaky voice "guys" as she collapses on the floor onto her knees everyone watching "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to tell you guys because i thought you'd all hate me" Lucifer drops the katana and runs to hug Y/N patting her head and rubbing her back.

"It's ok, I think you should get cleaned up and rest now, we can talk in the morning" he lets go cupping her face and whipping away her tears.

She slowly nods as Lucifer picks her up but signaling to his brothers to wait here then takes her to her room.

Lucifer and MC'S POV

Reaching her room he slowly places her down on the bed. "Lucifer i-" he puts his finger on her mouth to stop her from talking giving her a warm smile. "Don't worry about it right now Y/N just go get cleaned up and go to sleep. I'll come check in on you in a bit to see how you're doing." He says patting her head

"O-ok thank you Lucifer" looking up at him as he slowly gets up as Y/N watches him leave out the door.

MCS POV

After he leaves I sigh to myself with so many questions running through my head not being able to thing straight. I soon calm down and head to the shower where I think even more.

I get out the shower and changed putting my dirty clothes in the laundry basket. I looking at the stains on my shirt. "What is wrong with me.." Walking to my bed

I lay down and start crying and end up falling asleep.

BROTHERS POV

They are all talking to each other about what they saw as Lucifer walks into the living room.

"What if she thinks we now think of her different, I mean that is the reason why she didn't tell us" Levi says. They all look so worried. Belphie and Beel are cuddled up together comforting one another. "Beel.." "yes belphie" "do you think Y/N will hate us?" "Of course not, Y/N's not like that.." he says after eating cookies to calm down.

Asmo talks to Satan about it and Levi and Mammon do as well. Then Lucifer walks in and sits down speechless. "Well... I don't know what to do or say. But i... I think we have to report this to Diavo-" "NO" They all shout at him. "Lucifer are you crazy??? They'll get her removed from the program and we'll never see her again" Satan says angry and raging at him. "Look I know what we saw we didn't expect but we have absolutely no explanation from Y/N." Levi exclaimed. They all stare at Lucifer as he makes it his mind "Ok. I don't wish to lose Y/N either so we shall wait. As for now I want all of you back in your rooms and leave Y/N alone for the rest of the night" Asmo really had no words in this situation was only listening in to everything.

Part 2???