#yes Donnie has a gun

[daremo-desu]

I was working on a comic but I’m slow af so have some sketches

[artsybun]

First art post ever for ROTTMNT. Yeehaw.

This series, the whole franchise rlly, has always been extremely dear to me, but I avoid posting art online out of my own anxiety. However, I showed these to a friend I managed to drag into rise fandom hell and they are practically holding me at gun point to post these lol. This is the most recent art I’ve drawn for the Rise boys <3

Perhaps I’ll post some other things I’ve worked on for this show, as well as other iterations, but we’ll see. Also, I apologize now, there is so much leosagi art in my folders I am NOT immune.

(Did I give Donnie a gun? Yes. Can you tell me he wouldn’t have one? No.)

[rottmnt-residuum]

Some Things You Aught to Know (this also the index)

“At the end of it all, what’s left of you?”

The long reaching ramifications of an alien invasion… it all starts here. After the Kraang were defeated, the boys have taken a back step from their usual activities to heal. Which has been surprisingly easy due to sudden lack of activity from their rogue gallery. At least, until Donnie disappears.

Hi! Welcome to the side blog that hosts my comic, Residuum. This little brain baby of mine was conceived in a dream my subconscious cooked up one night and then refused to leave me in the morning! Yes, yes, very interesting, but why is that relevant? Well, my darling reader, dreams can get really, really fucked up. As suuuch, this comic gets kinda, okay a lot, fucked up (￣▽￣|||)

So, this handy dandy pinned post is both the content/trigger warnings and where to find parts. The warnings do contain some spoilers for future installments, so I’ve put them under the read more. I do stress again that this comic is fucked, but to those who don’t read the warnings:

Probably don't read this if you're squeamish. It will contain a lot of, uh. Gore. Seriously. I'm not kidding around here.

This comic will not contain anything sexual, consensual or not. Nothing implied, either. (I can’t believe I have to say this, but no incest, and yes, I am kink-shaming you.)

Directory | F.A.Q.

Parts

Parts that have gore or the more extreme tw's will be red. Parts with mild-ish tw's will be yellow. Censored versions of extreme gore will be blue.

Read it chronologically: [censored gore] [full gore] (only works on desktop as far as I am aware. also! part 17 isn't showing up in either of the links, and i don't know why...)

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16 | part 17 | part 18 C - part 18 G | part 19 C - part 19 G | part 20 C - part 20 G | part 21 | part 22 | part 23 | part 24 | part 25 | part 26 ] - Arc I Complete

part 27 | part 28 | part 29 | part 30 | part 31 | part 32 | part 33 C - part 33 G | part 34 | part 35 | part 36 | part 37 | part 38 C - part 38 G | part 39 | part 40 | part 41 | part 42 (no schedules; they are not helping right now)

(Updates every other Sunday at 3:30 pm PST) Update Progress: 0%

Content/Trigger Warnings

Subject to change, I’ll tell y’all if they change when I update. They probably won’t change much, but the creative process is annoying :)

Feel free to message directly for any reason, be it clarification or something else

Desturbing Imagery, Trypophobia, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Guns, Gun Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Ableism, Coercion of Minors, Solitary Confinement, Contractual Slavery, Blood & Gore, Implied Death/Actual Death, Major Character Death, Animal Death, Animal Experimentation, Dismemberment, Disembowelment, Non-Consensual Medical Procedures, Irreversible Alterations, Cannibalism, PTSD, Anatomically Correct Organs, Lobotomy, Imprisonment of Innocents, Medical Experimentation, Body Horror, Police Brutality, Corrupt Government Institutions, Xenophobia

[rallentando1011]

hey so can I get a scenario with rise donnie’s s/o coming up to him and invited him to a restaurant in the hidden city where it has couples dancing? Entices him with his favourite music that’s gonna be playing and massive puppy eyes?

late nights, flashing lights

rise Donnie x gn reader

“Come on, it’s the weekend! Why not do something special?”

Donnie flipped up his goggles in response to your question and set down his welding gun, sparks ceasing to fly at his confusion. “I haven’t the slightest notion on what the day of the week has to do with my choice of activities.”

“Our choice of activities - we’re hanging out right now, so it’s collective,” you corrected.

“Fine - our choice of activities. Sitting and working and engaging in riveting discussions is all we do on other nights, so what makes this one any different?”

You paused. All week, you had been planning a surprise for him - a trip to a quaint little disco in the Hidden City you’d heard about from April. She’d sent you some pictures from when she’d gone with Sunita and Casey, and then the idea took root.

But it was easier said than done.

Planning to surprise your turtle was difficult primarily for two reasons: the snoop always found out about it in advance (which you’d avoided narrowly this time by not mentioning anything about any plans tonight) and, the most difficult part, trying to get him to choose to go out of the lair, the step you found yourself currently stuck on. Still, you were going to try.

“I don’t know,” you replied coolly, “maybe the fact that it’s supposed to be the end of the week, time to relax or go out or something?”

“Out?”

“Yes. Out. With me. Instead of holing yourself up in the lab or whatever,” you mumbled.

“Out where? Not a lot of Homo sapien-mutant-accepting entertainment establishments come to mind, and, much as I love pretending not to be myself,” he flicked his goggles back down and turned back to his workspace.“I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for it right now.”

“Well.” You didn’t want to say that you knew of one in particular because that sort of spoiled the surprise element of the night. Hesitantly, you suggested, “we can try to look for one?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hand stopping just shy of picking up his welding tool once more. “I don’t know…”

“Could we please just give it a shot?” Hook.

You nudged his arm, mustering up the warmest look you had. Line. “Any time you want to come back or feel uncomfortable, we’re headed right back here.”

Donnie glanced back over to you, and you could discern the exact moment he caved. Sinker. “Sure.”

The next half hour consisted of throwing on sweatshirts, linking arms and whipping out of the lair straight toward one of the many entrances to the Hidden City.

As you wandered through portals, down ramps and bystreets, the turtle you were practically dragging along looked at you exceedingly more quizzically.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Donnie eventually muttered.

“What?” you asked incredulously, quite unconvincingly. “No, of course not. Just meandering randomly. What gave you that impression?”

“Oh, nothing - just the fact that you’re walking with assertion in a seemingly predetermined path.”

A subtle smirk worked its way onto your face. “Maybe.”

He scowled, lighthearted. “Oh, sweet Galileo- why mustn’t you ask me out with you straightforwardly when you already have plans?”

You pulled on his sleeve to direct you two left before pushing the entrance of your location open for him. “Because then I wouldn’t get to see the look on your face when I take you places like this.”

As soon as he stepped foot in the building, you saw the glow in his eyes, his radiant beam, and they were far more beautiful than the already gorgeous venue.

The pictures you’d seen of it looked good, but seeing it in person was even better; with the amber lights and colorful tiled-dance floor and overhead disco ball, the place looked like it was ripped straight out of the 80’s. 

“It’s a discotheque, baby!” you grinned, throwing an arm back around his shoulder. “Last one like this within, like, a thousand mile radius.”

“Woah!” Somehow his eyes lit up even more when he looked back at you. It was stunning. “How have I not heard of this place?”

“I mean, that checks out. April recommended it, and apparently it took Sunita forever to find somewhere with a more traditional disco - it only plays 70’s and 80’s hits. You’re welcome.”

Donnie was still stupefied. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

“I heard they’ve got some tables over there for dining, and that the drinks from there-”

Your hand was gently snatched from the air where it was pointing at a countertop across the room. You looked down at the tridactyl hand holding it, then up its owner.

The turtle grinned, finally pulled from his daze and emphatically lucid. The look in his eyes bore a striking resemblance to the exact one you’d used to get him to agree to come here. “We can get into the dives and dining and whatnot later - for right now, care to dance?”

“I mean, I have a reservation for-”

Another hand on your waist was all it took to shut you up, and slowly walking backwards landed the both of you on floor, and pulling you closer resulted in the both of you grinning and spinning and dancing.

As a myriad of killer songs blasted from the front of the room, you found yourself inundated with a seeping, saccharine satisfaction, partially derived from doing the merengue and cha-cha and some deviant of the Cabbage Patch along with many more improvisations, but mostly from the sheer elation exuded by your dance partner.

Even as you two continued to bounce to Whitney or sway to Prince, his focus stayed on you, eyes locked, with scarcely a moment without a hand or arm making contact with you.

Somehow, just that affectionate attention, that carefree yet caring energy made the efforts of getting him into a social setting and keeping a surprise from the nosiest person in the world abundantly more than worth it.

[dixdixbby]

Recently did a rewatch of Mutant Mayhem so I thought I’d put down some things I didn’t notice on my first watch through:

The little band-aid on baby Super Fly ☹️☹️☹️

The “15 years later” kinda resembling the 2007 movie logo (coincidence?)

The tape on Raph’s belt buckle and the stickers on Mikey’s chucks I LOVE those details

“Drake is the GOAT of all time” is such a cleverly stupid line lol

“I love being young and free to go places!”

Triceratops on the side of a U-Haul = Triceratons reference (or foreshadowing??? 👀)

Mr. Beast cameo

“That’s not a cat, it’s actually a rat!”

Mikey vocalizing while doing his flips

“How many people has the red one stabbed? Does he need therapy?” LMAOOOOO

Got a picture of the Mona Lisa on the locker next to April’s. Mona reference probably?

Bad Bernie looks kinda like a mouse

Making Leatherhead Australian was the best decision actually

“Cowabunga! I just made that up :D” love the continuing the trend of Mikey getting some of his catchphrases from Mondo

“Oh my god, I’m gonna win a daytime Emmy”

“Don’t cuz me right now, man 🤨😒”

One of the TCRI guys nodding along to their rendition of “Butter”

They wanted Ice Cube to curse so badddd

The parallel between the scene of Raph throwing the ninja star and him shooting the gun

“The Mercedes no!!!” “That was a Prius, it’s ok.”

Donnie doing the AoT salute as he explained the Titans weakness is such a minor detail but I love it so much

Mikey saying “yes and” right after being told to improvise

“Anxious but highly informed teen reports”

Alex Hirsch voiced Scumbug because of course he did

87, 2012, and Rise Splinter in the credits~

MOUSERS LETSGOOOOO

[travlersjoy444]

2012 Donnie x reader Incorrect Quotes

Got a request to do a Donnie version of this Raph x reaader post, so here it is lol

Side note, I did this with 2012 Dee in mind, but most versions should work fine.

***

(Y/N): I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Donnie: Wow. They sound stupid.

(Y/N): But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Donnie: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

(Y/N): I guess you’re right. Hey Donnie, I love you.

Donnie: See! Just say that!

(Y/N): Holy fucking shit.

Donnie: If that flies over their head then, sorry (Y/N), but they're too dumb for you.

(Y/N): Donnie.

***

(Y/N): Am I right, Donnie?

Donnie: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.

***

(Y/N): Donnie, you love me, right?

Donnie: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

***

Mikey: Ooh, somebody has a cru-ush

Donnie: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on (Y/N) I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them.

*Later that night*

Donnie, very much awake: Uh oh.

***

Donnie: *pretending to joke* So when are you going to go out with me?

(Y/N): I don't know. When are you going to ask me to?

Later..

Leo: And you just ran away?!

Donnie: I didn't expect them to flirt back!

***

(Y/N): Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Donnie: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

(Y/N): But you’re always acting stupid?

Donnie: ...

Donnie: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

***

Donnie: Did (Y/N) just tell me they loved me for the first time?

Leo: Yeah, they did.

Donnie: And did I just do finger guns back?

Leo: Yeah, you did.

***

Donnie: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.

(Y/N): What makes you say that?

Donnie: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?

(Y/N): Donnie... You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?

Donnie: *screams in anger*

***

Donnie: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

(Y/N): But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole 

again.

Donnie: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

(Y/N): Is it working?

***

Donnie: I’ve never been in a snowball fight before. I don’t know the rules.

(Y/N): What?

Donnie: Is there a point system, or is it to the death?

***

Donnie: There's no way they like me back.

April: (Y/N) would throw themself in front of a moving car for you.

Donnie: (Y/N) would throw themself in front of a moving car for fun.

***

Donnie: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

(Y/N): Sure!

(Y/N): What's your favorite color?

Donnie, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

***

Donnie: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like (Y/N) a little bit.

April, holding Donnie's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation.

Donnie: No, that's our joint tombstone.

April: My mistake.

***

April: Is this your plan B?

(Y/N): Technically, this is plan P.

April: Plan P? Is there a plan M?

(Y/N): Yes, but I marry Donnie in plan M.

Donnie: I like plan M.

***

April: How the hell did you crash the car?!

(Y/N): So I was just driving today, right? And my navigation told me to go straight.

(Y/N): I was like "woah, that's homophobic". Instead, I went gay. And, THAT'S when I got into an accident.

April: ...

Donnie, with a proud smile: And THAT'S who I'm in love with, ladies and gentlemen.

***

Donnie: Where are you going?

(Y/N): To get MYSELF a birthday gift cause somebody didn't get me one!

Donnie: I told you I did! It's coming here on Friday!

Mikey, knowing full well that Donnie got (Y/N) an engagement ring: *eating popcorn*

***

Donnie, sweating: (Y/N), there’s something I need to ask you-

(Y/N): Finally! You’re proposing!

Donnie: How’d you know?

(Y/N), gently: Donnie, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

(Y/N): I even picked it up once.

***

Raph: So, are you two dating now?

Donnie & (Y/N): Yes.

Raph: Why?

Donnie: I happen to find (Y/N) very appealing.

Raph: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with (Y/N).

***

(Y/N): That's ridiculous, Donnie doesn't have a crush on me.

Mikey: Yes they do.

Leo: Yes they do.

Donnie: Yes I do.

***

Donnie: We both look really good tonight.

(Y/N): You know, if you'd just said that I looked good, I would have said, "So do you."

Donnie: I couldn't take that chance.

***

Leo: Do you love Donnie?

(Y/N): Yeah, I do.

Mikey: Leo! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks!

Leo: We all love Donnie. You should've asked if they were IN love with them.

(Y/N): I thought that was implied.

Leo: ...

Mikey: ...

(Y/N), looking straight at Leo: Congrats Mikey, you just won 100 bucks.

***

Mikey: *sees (Y/N) and Donnie together*

Mikey: They're cute. I would put them on a boat.

Leo: You mean... you ship them?

***

(Y/N), texting: Donnie, will you please go to sleep?

Donnie, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up?

(Y/N), yelling from the couch: I CAN HEAR YOU WORKING JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP!

(Y/N), texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon?

Donnie, texting: I’m trying

(Y/N), yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH

(Y/N), texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

***

Donnie: (Y/N) isn’t picking up on my hints.

April: What hints have you given them?

Donnie: Well, I think about them a lot.

Donnie: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.

***

(Y/N): Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them?

Donnie: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them.

(Y/N): Okay yeah thanks Donnie, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

***

(Y/N): How petty can you get?

Donnie: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

***

(Y/N): Why are you late?

Donnie: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness.

(Y/N): Overslept?

Donnie: Overslept.

***

(Y/N): I’m in love with you.

Donnie: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

(Y/N): I know.

Donnie: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

[nardos-primetime]

Ngl my brain is trying to cook some crossover things already but I'll wait till you post some more lore (if you're comfy with that stuff to boot) Also obvs these boys are different from their source but does Donno still hold any interest for tech? Or do his hobbies end up elsewhere.

Murder talk TW

Donno only really gets to experiment with hobbies once he's with Big Mama. And he wouldn't be a Donnie if he didn't like technology!

Most of his technological expertise comes into his more casual job, which is working with the gamblers. He finds new ways to swindle yokai out of their money and is always excited to show Mama his new ideas. Along with this, he would absolutely steal someone's wallet and sell it back to them.

He's a little unhinged as well! After a few... hiccups, he becomes one of Mama's main choices when it comes to directly getting "the job done" so to say. (Other than Rage). He likes shooting people from afar, but his preferred alternative is experimenting and making torture devices to use on some of Mama's..... "problems".

He likes gaming too! In fact it started as a joke but I made his weapon a little mystic controller as a gift from Mama. He's a lot more open to mystic things and is the first one to get a gift like this from her, think of Donnie's ninpo but a lot more nerfed down, even the guns he makes from the controller have a strong size, usage and radius limit, to appease this, he experiments with real technology, such as his own hover shell when he's out an about, and packing a few actual guns to hold with his mystics to get past the whole "bullets don't go too far" problem.

Mystic weapons in this au are more like objects that can be in tune with their users emotions, Mama has been figuring out how to make more from ones she already has stolen and his controller is the first mostly stable one she's managed to make, Donno is picking up the slack on the testing and research, nowadays. After all, if his sad excuse of an original can't accept mystic things he should get ahead of the curve and learn about it first! (He also loves fucking with mystic shit and shoving it into other things if he can.)

He also likes fancy things in general, dramatic bitch. He does have a smoking issue that he picked up from older yokai (if you couldnt tell Mama runs with a bit of a bad crowd) but he is working on a healthier, mystic option. For himself (and yokai, if they have the cash.)

Overall none of this probably makes sense I'm just having fun but OHMIGOSH yes I'm totally fine w crossovers!!!! The characters do change a little overtime in the storyline but my favorite arc (and mostly the middle one) is the Big Mama arc because most of the problems truly get worse with her influence, can't wait to post more about it n would love to see what you come up with! :D

[britt-kageryuu]

Donnie and Mikey are streaming together today. Their models are wearing shirts reading 'Smarts and Crafts Team', blue jeans, lab coats, safety glasses, gloves, and boots. They're messing with some science based crafts on the AR set. Shelldon and River sitting on the a box that has the chat box overplayed on it.

"So we got some resin to try out some crafts we found online." Mikey announced while they put some drop cloths on the floor around the table. "But we don't trust something not spilling, and this stuff can get tricky to clean if things go wrong."

"Which is part of why we're using UV resin, that we can just pop in the basking room for a bit to let set." Donnie says, in flat tone that sounds a bit sarcastic, "We're going to start simple, then work up to complicated, though that may go in reverse with us."

Mikey goes off screen to grab some supplies. While Donnie puts the big bottles of resin on the counter.

A cartoony turtle shell slides across the screen to have cartoon Mikey pop out with fan fare, coins tossed around, and Miss. PaintSlatter Donated $30!

Mikey jogs back in to check the notification. "Thank You, Miss. PaintSplatter for the $30. Oh 'Do Shelldon and River have access to mobile games? Hey Dee?"

"Shelldon doesn't play mobile games, but River plays Animal Crossing Pocket Camp. Partially for the app exclusive items you send to New Horizons, partially to befriend Villagers she wants, but can't find in NH." Donnie answers while he sets up some small molds. Then picks up and tests a heat gun.

"Well, we got the resin, pigments, molds, mold release, heat gun, little charms we plan to put into the resin. Are we missing anything?" Mikey askes.

"Spare gloves, paper towels, and the tall trashcan!" River answers back, then smacks the chatbots out of the chat box!

"And proper ventilation, or maskes." Shelldon says with a bit of snark.

"Right, I'll go get the portable ventilation, and trashcan and Mikey, please grab our ventilator masks from the art closet, a box of gloves, and the paper towels." Donnie instructs while they go grab said items.

Shelldon and River are left to entertain chat.

"What did I find that scared Dee? Sorry, we have been sworn to secrecy under threat of having our game libraries memory reset to no save files." River says.

Shelldon nods with his eyes closed. "And I don't have access to the file that was sent because Dee blocked me from getting it."

"FOR GOOD REASON!" Donnie tells from across the room, as he brings in what looked like an air purifier with a long tube sticking out of the back. "And for those who are confused, yes this is the portable ventilation system. Yes, it's a air purifier that I found in the dump, and heavily modified it." He announces with a bit of pride, "While I'm sure I could find something like this on the market, I wanted to build one myself."

Mikey also returns with his stuff, and organized the counter a bit so there's less of a chance of something getting knocked over.

They proceeded to finish set up, and get started on some simple resin experiments. And at least one small spillover and frantic clean up, before shouting 'You saw nothing!' And a 'Clip Recorded and Saved' from both Shelldon and River, who don't mention it right away.

Chat was still begging for the info of what Scared Dee, but after some were knocked out it calmed down, people started giving suggestions on what the guys could do with the resin.

----------------------

Masterpost

My actual favorite nickname for Donnie is Tello, and I want to have River call him 'Tello Tello', but that can't really happen with most of my story. Unless I can think of another behind the scenes post.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 12/?

Prev | Next

Shit like this wasn’t supposed to happen in small towns. Yet here he was, in the middle of an armed robbery. The two men had a handgun each and were waving them around. Jason thought Canada had stricter gun laws, for God’s sake. Jason hid Danny behind his body and thanked whatever little luck he had that Jazz, and Ellie had stayed home.

And all because Jason had wanted some ice cream.

“Nobody be a hero. Give me the money, bitch!”

One man pointed the gun at the poor cashier, who looked close to tears, and the other pointed it at the three customers in the little convenience store.

Usually, Jason would be the first to jump into action, but he had Danny to think about now. Said kid pulled on Jason’s shirt and asked in a low voice, “Daddy, aren’t we gonna do something?”

“No, we’re gonna stay behind these shelves and let the proper authorities deal with it,” Jason whispered.

Danny actually pouted, pouted!

“But daddy, we have to help!”

Jason got Danny and held him close to his chest. Jason got on the floor and made himself small. He didn’t want attention on them and wanted to stop Danny from playing hero.

He should’ve remembered Danny had been one before, and he had powers. His son, his precious baby boy, turned invisible and intangible. Jason just about had a heart attack. Jason couldn’t risk calling out for Danny because that would draw attention to him.

The men were about to leave when they crashed into something invisible.

(If Jason squinted, he could just make out a green force field.)

Suddenly, both men’s pants fell to the floor, and when they looked down, distracted, both guns were knocked out of their hands and landed in front of Jason. Jason got one gun and pointed the other one at the men.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Both men held up their hands and dropped the money. Jason watched as shoelaces were untied and then tied together to one another. The men got scared and tried to run when they heard police sirens, but they fell.

Jason heard a giggle at his side and watched his son return to the visible spectrum.

He sighed; it seemed he had to have a long talk with Danny.

____

Danny pouted in the back seat as Jason lectured him.

They ended up held up for only under an hour after the armed robbery attempt. It was a small town, and everyone knew everyone. The cashier and the other three customers in the store knew that the two robbers were Donnie and Tanner Evans, two brothers who were always getting into trouble.

How those two idiots thought they would be able to get away with it, Jason didn’t know. At least in Gotham, the city was big enough for idiots to get away with robbing small convenience stores.

Jason sighed; how did this even happen to him?

It’s because he had shit luck, that’s why. And now his son was mad at him for not playing vigilante and lecturing him for playing hero.

“I’m serious, Danny. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“But I didn’t! What do you want, dad, for me to let others get hurt?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean—look, Danny, you’re too young to make these decisions.”

Danny glared, his eyes turning Lazarus Pit green. (Jason ignored his eyes glowing in response to Danny’s anger.)

“Look, Danny, I’m not mad. I was worried. I’m disappointed you didn’t listen to me,” Danny interrupted.

“Everyone knows that’s worse than anger!”

“You need to listen to what I say. You can’t put yourself in danger that way.”

“Like you’ve never put yourself in danger,” his precious, precious son mumbled, “you used to be a vigilante.”

Jason wished he had Alfie. How did he put up with their danger-seeking habits? It was a miracle the butler was still alive because Jason felt like his heart was trying to leave his body through his chest.

“Wait till I tell your sister about this.”

“Ha! Jazz encourages my heroism! You lose.”

“We’ll see.”

____

“What were you thinking, Daniel James Fenton?”

Danny watched as his daddy smirked at him, pleased. Jazz, the traitor, continued to scream at him.

“But Jazzie,” he whined, “I couldn’t just do nothing.”

Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Danny, we aren’t in Amity Park anymore. We’re trying to keep a low profile, and, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re like three years old!”

“I’m sixteen in the body of a five-year-old! And you can’t tell me what to do; you’re not mom!”

Danny regretted saying that as soon as Jazz’s face fell.

“Danny, apologize to your sister,” his dad barked out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “it just came out.”

Jazz took a deep breath and continued, “I accept your apology, but Danny, you must be more careful. What if the cameras caught you?”

His dad had automatically hacked the convenience store’s cameras and found out that only one worked, and it was pointed at the entrance. Thankfully, it hadn’t captured Danny using his powers.

“Look, lad, like I said, I’m not mad, but you have to be careful when and where to use your powers. If I tell you not to, you don’t. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good, now, you’re grounded. No going outside for two days and no ice cream, either.”

“Aw, man, why daddy?”

“You disobeyed a direct order, that’s why.”

Danny pouted, and Jason had to harden his heart. Danny got off the chair and started going to his room.

“Danny lad, wait.”

Danny turned.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I can feel it.”

“Good,” Jason kissed Danny’s forehead. “You scared me today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t lose you, lad.”

Danny hugged his dad and let waves of love and reassurance hit the man. He might be disappointed that he was grounded, but Danny knew how much he had scared his dad. So, he would, mostly, take the punishment gracefully.

Jason watched Danny go to his room and plop hard on the chair.

“You okay, Jay?”

“Yeah, just, I got scared I would lose him, y’know?”

Jazz put her hand on his shoulder, “You’re a good dad.”

“I was so afraid to lose him today. What if I had,” Jason asked hysterically, “I’m a horrible father. I should’ve kept a better eye on him!”

“Jason, you’re spiraling. Danny is fine.”

Jason wondered if Bruce ever felt the way Jason was feeling now. How had Bruce raised a feral Dick Grayson and a rule-breaking Jason Todd? He kind of wished he had his dad near him to ask.

(He would take Danny away; Jason could never talk to Bruce again.)

“Do you think I handled it right?”

Jason wanted some reassurance.

“You did better than you think. Trust me.”

Jason smiled sadly. He hoped he wouldn’t screw things up with Danny.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon

[courtingchaos]

7:29

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Sister piece to Shared Inflicted Pain and Vulnerable

Warnings: Gun Play. Read that again, gun play. Sex, threats of bodily harm, descriptions of violence, boy howdy I went wild in this one.

A/N: I had some prime time headcannoning happening with @dr-aculaaa and @trashmouth-richie and a lot of it bled into this and THIS ISN’T EVEN THE WIP WE WERE GOING ON ABOUT.

Cars rumble up the driveway slowly. The snow falls silently across the open garage door. You’ve been standing there watching long enough that a small drift has started forming around the soles of your boots. The cold burns your face like normal but your eyes especially today. A late night staring at your phone and waiting for a text that didn’t come until sunrise.

Out. Sent and read at 7:29 AM.

You aren’t checking up on him and he doesn’t feel obligated to tell you shit but there it stands.

Out. 7:29 AM.

The only person who’s given you any kind of space or grace is Ty and that’s only because he’s actually seen you this morning. Normally either squirreled away in the crawl space or huddled up in your tight corner, the fact that you’ve stood watch for three hours makes him worry. No quips and no sarcasm. No half lidded stare or unsettled long looks. Just that concentration creasing your brows and turning down your mouth, wide eyes staring into the frozen white yard. Ty had tried to give you a coffee, steaming in the cold, with about half the pint of cream in there like you normally do but you’d just shaken your head once. Didn’t even turn to look at him when you said no thank you. An actual ‘no, thank you Ty’, which is why he’s in your fathers office telling him about you being a gargoyle this morning.

“She has’t yelled at Donny or anyone. At all.” He tells him earnestly.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Normally I’d say yes but…somethin’ feels off about her.”

“Everything’s off about her.”

You don’t move when the trucks stop and the men pile out. Three elder brothers looking worse for wear and ten sheriffs officers pulling out three big gunnysacks. You watch them passively, eyes flicking between doors opening and closing. Someone snaps a tailgate shut and you shake your hand out of your coat pocket to check your watch.

9:47 AM.

Out. 7:29 AM.

Finally you see Roy’s big figure fold out of a driver seat. He leans in and pulls out his hat, gives it a dusting before settling it on his head just right. He’s making measured moves, delaying the walk inside to talk to your father and brothers. You watch him debate on a cigarette, tapping the carton once and then pausing before pushing the single smoke back in. Tosses the box back into the cab of the truck and gently closes the door. He locks it over his shoulder when he starts his slow walk up to the garage.

“Where is he?” You ask.

“Working.” He replies.

You don’t meet eyes. He doesn’t stop. You keep standing watch and Roy goes in to talk to your family about the things he misjudged.

It’s after 11 AM now and your fathers office is too full. You and four dipshits and Roy and two sheriffs. Neither are Gator, and Roy seems unfazed by that. You stand off to the side, always out of the way just in case, and you listen to Roy get loud. It’s your fathers turn and then your brothers kick off and very suddenly there’s a vice grip on your bicep. It yanks you forward and makes you lurch off balance. The big spade of a hand wraps tighter when it drags you in front of your fathers desk and everyone stops moving.

“You see this?” Roy shakes you once. “This is fuckin’ collateral. The only thing that works around here is about to get taken away if you don’t explain just what in the blue fuck happened out there.”

You can’t help the genuine surprise that crosses your face. You won’t shake and you won’t whine but you do flash your wide eyes up at Roy. He towers over you and your family now. He’s lowered his voice, no longer yelling just making his point clear. His hand tightens further around your arm and the small gasp you let out goes unnoticed by the men in the room.

“Now the rest of the boys are gonna be up here in about five minutes. You’ve got that long to walk your ass out to your garage so you can explain to me why I wasn’t able to get in.” Roy continues to stare your father down and starts counting out loud after a few seconds when no one seems to understand his threat. It kicks everyone into movement and the office clears before Roy or you make a sound.

“This is just business sweetheart.” He still pulls you along but at least you have your footing again.

One of the clocks in the shop reads 11:30 AM so you’ve only been collateral for less than an hour. Roy keeps you close and you wonder if he’s just waiting for Gator to show up before he pulls a firearm. You think Roy’s the type to make him do that kind of thing, mean son of a bitch that he is. He knows you two circle each other like predators fighting for territory and maybe he wants to see his boy win. You hold no ideas that Roy would know anything about Gator and his midnight promises.

“Now you know something Mr. Williams, I do believe we’re both being taken for a ride.”

“You don’t say.” Your father mutters, both men bent over the hood of a car examining a stack of blueprints. The yelling hadn’t continued past the office but Roy did keep you in his grip. It’s loosened enough that you can turn to watch the final truck make its way up the long drive.

All four doors open and the last of his crew crawl out. You can see those brunette locks bobbing around behind the bed of the truck, all mussed up from him running his hands through it probably. It isn’t until he finally makes the corner, heading for the garage that you see his face clearly.

Squinting in the morning light, his right eye is turning purple. There’s a smear of dried blood on his cheek from his nose. Lip split and swollen and there’s a weird tightening of your chest. He’s obviously fine, still walking on two feet and still breathing but you can’t stop staring.

Roy noticed your turned head and glances over his shoulder to take in Gators appearance. “Tillman, good of you to join us.” He lets your arm go finally. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on this one?”

The turn of Gator’s head to look at you seems like a lot of effort. There’s a wince under the guise of calmness and you wonder what the rest of his body looks like under his heavy coat. You don’t want to catch his eye out here, don’t want to share a look or a sneer in case it gets weaponized.

“Why?” He asks bluntly and stares at the side of his bosses head.

“Well son, I got a point and a call to make and she’s the lynchpin keepin’ this garage on track today.” Roy gives the two of you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and nods down at Gator’s right thigh. “Do what you’re good at.”

The pause in Gator’s movement is palpable. You notice it, your father and Roy notice it. A slight jerk of his head while he stares his boss down and Roy just raises his eyebrows, asking for confrontation with that same dead smile.

Gator sighs heavy before unclipping the gun and racking the slide, an unnecessary movement so you know he’s buying time. He shifts it into his left hand and presses the muzzle slowly against the back of your head.

Everything goes quiet. It’s a familiar feeling but not welcome, not like the other night. The clearing hadn’t felt this way, not with the cold in your lungs and your neck hot from his mouth.

He wordlessly hands it to you, cold metal heavy in your palm as he points off into the distance at a thick trunk of pine.

You know how to shoot but this is special. It’s his gun that he uses for all the shit Roy asks him to do. It might just be a Glock, but it’s his Glock and that means something in the grand scheme of you two.

“Have you ever had a gun pointed at you?” You shift your shoulders around while you find a comfortable stance.

“‘Course I have.” He scoffs behind you.

“What’d it feel like?” You relax your shoulders and take a deep breath, finger flexing on the trigger. On your exhale you fire and he’s walking up behind you to slide his good hand down your arm. He works that gloved hand into your grip and pulls back slowly. His face on your right side, breathing hot against your ear while he draws the muzzle up on your left. He keeps your hand trapped under his as he gently prods your temple. Even through your beanie you can feel the heat of the gun and you swallow. Even through all your layers he can see your breathing get shallow, his own speeding to keep up. The big clouds puffing out of the two of you dissipate slowly but he can still see you lick your bottom lip before you worry at it.

“Kinda like this.” He whispers against your ear.

Roy makes his phone call and comes back all smiles, genuine this time. He claps your father on the shoulder and the man still seems unfazed. When he turns to Gator and cuts his hand across his neck, clicking at him to put the gun down, there is no pause that time. It’s holstered and safetied without a second glance and your ears ring. You almost feel like you’ve been watching the last eight minutes from outside the garage, not fully inhabiting your body or space.

The danger with Gator is something you normally look forward to. A pressure release that helped clear your head. This was nothing like that, a moment between you two brought on by external forces. You’re starting to understand that feeling you had earlier, the one that’d squeezed your ribcage tight.

“Dad.” You feel like you might be back in your body now even though your voice sounds a mile away. Quiet and shaky you need to get your fathers attention to ask if you can leave. You need him to nod at you and tell you to get the hell out of dodge.

There’s a heavy heat at your back but you won’t turn around and acknowledge Gator. Not right now.

“Father.” Said a little more firmly, the wobble gone from your voice after you take a deep breath. It gets his attention and the look he gives you has a hint of worry around the edges. “Can I leave?”

Your father nods at you and before he can open his mouth to tell you yes you turn on your heel and make for the house.

You thought you’d heard someone walk upstairs while you were busy steaming yourself in the shower. Laid out across your bed is Gator, legs bent over the footboard. He’s obviously awake, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and it makes his arms flex in his tight undershirt.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You stand in the doorway toweling your hair. His coat and button up are tossed over his boots in the corner with his holster hung off the back of your desk chair.

“Too much noise.” His lips barely move. Still pressing his hands into his eyes, you can see the pressure on his forming bruise.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” You say, throwing the towel in the pile of laundry by the door. He just grunts. “Thought that was my job.”

He drops his hands and looks down his nose at you. You watch him breathe heavy for a minute before he stares back up at the ceiling on a big exhale. “You doin’ okay?” He’s asks quietly.

“You goin’ soft?” You’re quick to call him out on his bullshit.

That makes him growl while he hefts himself up to sitting. His knuckles, bruised and split, grip the edge of your mattress. “I ain’t soft god damnit. You spun outta there after that fuckin’ asshole-“ He cuts himself off. Looks to the side and stares holes into your bookshelf while you stare holes into the side of his head.

“Oh don’t tell me you care Gator.” You scoff, trying to ignore that tight feeling in your chest again.

“I said I wouldn’t.” He rolls his tongue over his bottom lip a few times before he stands slow. “I told you he couldn’t make me.”

You shrug and tuck your hands under your arms. “Well you didn’t, so let it go.” Neither of you had brought up the ride again. You fully expected him to ignore it or pretend it never happened. Now though he stares heavy at you from your bed, his eyes roaming over the arm that Roy had grasped so lovingly.

“I was wondering if he left a mark on you.” He points a finger, bouncing it toward your arm. The bruise peaks out from under your t-shirt sleeve.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You ask lowly, jutting your chin forward. You slide your hands from your middle into your sweats pockets so he can’t see you picking at the side of your thumbs, your nervous habit brought on by his judgement. He finally looks you in the eye when he starts his walk across the small bedroom. You don’t move until his chest is pressed against yours and makes you step back. He grabs the door over your shoulder and throws it shut so he can crowd you against it.

“Only I get to do that.” He stares down at you.

“So you just get to make up rules about me?” You stare right back at him from under hooded eyes. This is the kind of thing that makes your heart race in a good way. He could pull his gun on you right now and you’d be all smiles. Probably even laugh when he’d press it up under your chin. He wouldn’t shoot you though, that’s the whole point. What everyone seems to miss.

“Yes. You told me so.” He says simply and drags his hand over your shoulder and down your arm till his grip covers the bruise. His fingers dig into the sensitive skin while he flicks his eyes between yours.

“Then what about this?” You grab the right side of his face, thumb resting on the bruised cheekbone. You press down and watch his face scrunch up.

“That’s business.”

“So’s this.” You shake your arm under his hand. “Roy said so.”

When he leans in you expect him to bite, to give you a matching lip to his but it’s a firm press. Dry lips that you’re becoming too familiar with. He still hangs onto your arm, uses it to pull you as close as he can, his breath huffed out across your cheek. He kisses you hard while your hands find their way up his undershirt, fingers skating over hot skin until he flinches away from you.

“That business too?” You lay your hand flat on that tender spot and he lets you go. Pulls his shirt over his head collar first and walks the three steps back to the edge of your bed. He sits heavy and jerks his head to beckon you over.

You don’t follow immediately, instead watching him unbutton his pants while you step out of your sweats. You’ve never seen him fully undressed so the dog tags clinking around on his chest catch you off guard.

“What branch?” You ask, pointing at his chest when he gives you a confused look. Instead of responding, he leans forward and hooks your knee to pull you so you stagger and stand in front of him. He doesn’t give you soft touches or light fingertips, his rough palm rubbing up your unshaved thigh, splayed wide so his fingers inch under the elastic of your underwear on your hip. While he explores, you grab the clutch of metal around his neck and scan it quick before he can snatch it out of your grip.

Tillman, Gator A.

9246106545

O Neg

Roman Catholic

“Catholic?” You raise your eyebrows, jingling the metal around when you catch a small oval between the two tags. He just hums disapprovingly and pulls the chain till the tags clink out of your grip. Instead of looking him in the eyes again you push a finger into a bruise forming on top of his shoulder, silently asking your question again.

“It doesn’t count if it’s business.” He looks up at you, frowning.

“Then you can’t be mad about Roy.” You don’t think you two have ever had a conversation this quiet before, even in the truck. Normally you’re too busy laughing gleefully at him while he pins you against something heavy.

“I’m mad ‘cause he used me.”

“He always uses you.”

“Not like that.” He slides his hand further up to grab your ass and pull you down to straddle his lap. “He knew what he was asking.”

He gets you out of your shirt and keeps you on him. Mouths at your chest and pulls skin between his teeth and makes you hum when he sucks a trail of muddled red down to the tops of your tits. You’ve got your fingers dug into his hair to hold him in place while you roll your hips, hoping he’ll take the hint and throw you off and onto your bed. Instead he grabs your chin, pinches it between his thumb and index finger and holds your attention.

“Just me.” He doesn’t ask. He gives you an open look like he’s waiting for you to nod your head. Instead, “What about you? M’supposed to just let that happen?” You throw your hand at his ribs and that tender spot. “We didn’t talk about you last time.” His small grip on your chin pinches harder. Gator pulls your face down so his lips brush against yours when he talks.

“I don’t let just anyone break my wrist.”

Your first laugh of the day skips across his cheek where it peters off into a breathy kind of whimper when you really think about that. The tears slowly leaking down his temples, hand cradled to his chest and the groan of pain that turned into a long groan of pleasure when he came.

“Say it then.” You challenge him with a harder press of your hand against those bruising ribs. “I’ll get the fuck up right now and leave I swear.”

“Just you.”

He heaves you off of his lap and onto your back. He yanks your underwear off and tosses them before ripping the rest of his clothes off to join them.

Just you.

Your hands dig in at his bruises, looking for a crack you can needle at. He leans into you to mouth at your shoulder before inching down to the ringed bruise and sinking his teeth in. The sensitive skin on the inside of your bicep imprints easily, his teeth sharp enough to make you gasp loudly. You try to jerk away reflexively but he hangs on, grabs your wrist to hold it down to the bed. He sucks on the thin skin once before letting go and running his tongue over the deep mark. Licks at you to sooth the sting and moves down your arm, nipping along until he hits your wrist where he runs his nose along and takes a deep breath. He catches your wide eyed stare before opening his mouth again, wedging your wrist between his teeth. It’s a slow build of pressure but you know if he bites you again like he just did, he’ll draw blood.

“Gator.”

His grip on your arm just tightens along with his teeth, a grin spreading out from behind your wrist. You want to tell him to be careful, for once in his life. The idea of a bleeding mark on your wrist giving you the first pause of your relationship until you notice a softness in his gaze. His cock is heavy against your thigh but neither of you move for friction, just waiting the other out for blood.

“Why did you text me this morning?” It slips out. He just bites down harder. “Were you trying to make me worry?”

He breaks skin and you yell, his teeth tinged pink behind his grin when he lets you go. There’s a role reversal happening when he keeps laughing at you and you keep scowling at him. His tongue sneaks out to run over the bite. He chases a small bead of red down your arm.

“I stayed up all night.”

“You’re up anyway.”

He’s not listening, or he’s being willfully ignorant. “I don’t let anyone else touch me, Gator.”

He drops his arm to his thigh but keeps yours in his grip. His jaw works back and forth like he’s chewing on his thoughts, your red still staining the inside of his lips.

“Not even the shop guys?”

You shake your head. His gaze drops to your wrist held limply in his fist and his face goes blank.

“I don’t care if you’re fucking anyone else, I just wanted…” You trail off quietly, unsure if you want to finish that thought.

“I’m not.” He sounds far away. “I don’t…really care much.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You laugh and he just scowls down at your arm. “I mean, every time you sniff me out you’ve got your hand down my fuckin’ pants.”

He’s tired and in pain. He doesn’t want to get into it. It’s easier to just lay you over a table than to explain his reasoning. It used to just be him and his anger up in his head but you’ve crept into the cracks somehow and he’s starting to think you might be able to read his thoughts. Too similar personalities skirting the borders of anger and dangling feet off the edge of sanity.

He can feel your eyes roaming, looking for a spot to dig in at and he snaps out of his deep thoughts. He crawls over you, leaving your bleeding wrist on the sheets, and hovers for a moment before dipping his head into the crook of your neck. It’s his favorite part of you, if he’s being honest and stupid. Even fresh out of a shower you still smell like you, that tang of metal and something earthy like you’ve been digging in the frozen dirt. He bites you once, a good chunk of flesh between his teeth before he lets go to move down your chest. He leaves a trail of pink tinted marks down your stomach as he makes his way between your thighs, strong fingers pushing and pulling your legs until he settles, one leg draped over his shoulders and the other one tucked up along his ribs. He keeps your hips pinned when he loops his arms around them. He lays a hand flat to help spread your lips, his tongue broad and flat when he licks a long line from your center to your clit.

You whimper, a sound he doesn’t think you’ve made around him before. He’s only ever tasted you off of his fingers and this first dip into you is rich and heady. He grunts into your parted flesh and your hands wind in his hair and pull him in closer. He takes his time because he can. In the quiet of your room he can barely make out the trucks slamming closed outside or the deep yell of Roy echoing off the trees. His phone vibrates from somewhere in the middle of the floor and it just drives him on more. Buries his nose deep in your cunt and digs his fingers into your soft thighs when you roll your hips against his face.

You make quiet sounds above him and pull on his hair and he doesn’t feel like coming up for air even when his nose starts to ache from being pressed into your skin. He won’t tell you any of this because that’d be against these silent rules you two have made up and enforced. Instead he focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit and when he uses his teeth for a moment you seize up, his name sighed out long to your ceiling.

He doesn’t give you time to refocus, just untangles himself from your legs to hitch them up on his hips before flipping you both. He rolls you on top of him, one hand flat on your lower back and the other guiding his cock through your folds. “Sit.”

No hesitation from you, just a shared groan when he stretches you and hits deep. It takes you a moment to to move again but the stuttered movement of your hips makes his eyes roll back.

“Does that feel good?”

“Fuck”

“Use your words, Gator. Does that feel good?”

He hears you fucking around with something but he can’t focus on much outside the wet heat of you. Not until he feels the cold press under his chin. “Answer me.”

His eyes snap open to find you staring down at him. You haven’t stopped moving, your tongue traces your lips and you grin. He should have known better than to leave his fucking gun within arms reach.

“Come on baby, tell me.” The tip of the gun digs into his chin and he’d be a liar for saying no. You don’t even have your finger on the trigger, laid flat along the body of it and he’s sure the safety is on. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” That comes out a lot lighter than he meant.

“Just you and me.” Your eyes shine in the light filtering in, pupils blown wide while you ride him. You look crazy and you look tangled, your hair a wild halo around your head. He wants to look down and watch himself sink into you but you push his chin up roughly when he tries. With his head shoved back into the pillow, you lean on his chest and speed up and he’s violently reminded of the last time you did this, his newly healed wrist flinching away from you momentarily.

“Afraid I’m gonna break it again?”

“You’ve got a f-fuckin’ gun to mmm fuuuck-to my head, you tell me.” Saying it out loud makes his stomach clench, the fast pool of heat rushing when you grind down hard on him. The press against his chin falters for just a moment and he takes that second roll you over, back where he should have left you. Somewhere in the background noise his gun clatters on the hardwood and he pins you to the mattress. Drives into you fast and hard, his hand finding itself around your throat. The unhinged laugh you let out makes him feel crazy and the tether of his orgasm snaps taut.

Through the white noise he can hear you talking, can feel your hands sliding down his arm to hold his hand still against you while he fills you.

“Good boy.”

He shudders and shakes his head, releasing you when he hears your breathing get thin.

“Just me, yeah?”

He’s tired and in pain and he nods. Hazy thoughts swirl, brought on by your quiet praise and more than 24 hours of being awake.

“Stay here, okay?”

He feels heavy and tired and stupid. He keeps it to himself but the chaos of the outside is different from the chaos between you two and in that contained dissonance there’s a red drop of quiet. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he drifts all the same when you run a cool finger up and down his spine and he taste the remnants of that frozen earth still behind his teeth.

It’s dark when you wake up, Gator’s big frame heavy and languid, draped over your middle, head laying in the valley between your breast. Cuddled is the word you’d use but not out loud. He’s awake too, you can feel him blinking against your skin. His head shifting minutely when your fingers run along the edge of his scalp. Even in the dark of your bedroom you can see the bruises forming on his back under the red lines your blunt nails made. You won’t ask him about it but whatever Roy got him into today beat the shit out him. Gator takes a deep breath and you can feel his dog tags dig into your stomach, pressed between the two of you. “You getting up?”

“No.” He mumbles.

You’re hesitant to lay your hands on him in fear of him shrugging you off but when you let your palm slide down from his hair to the back of his neck he doesn’t move. When you walk your fingertips over his bicep he just tucks his hand under your shoulder. “Where’s my gun?”

“On the floor.” You roll your head to spot it next to your bed where you’d dropped it earlier.

“Is the safety on?”

“What are you, a cop?” You laugh and feel him huff out what could be a laugh. “Of course it’s on. I’m not stupid.”

“What time is it?” He isn’t moving at all, fully expecting you to have all these answers. You blindly feel around for your phone on your nightstand and wince when the light is too bright for the dark blanketing you two.

“It’s 8…PM. You got somewhere to be?” As if on cue you hear his phone vibrating from the pile of clothes on the floor. You wait to see if he’ll get up but he doesn’t react, just tells you no and rolls his head the opposite direction. When you drop your phone again he grabs your hand and plants it on the back of his head wordlessly.

The only window in here is level with your bed and you can stare out it directly to the massive garage out back. The flurries started up again sometime while you two were asleep and they whip by the glass, blurring the figures moving around outside. You can make out the lone figure standing tall by his truck, cowboy hat tilted up at the house and smudge of blue light by his head.

Fingers wound in Gator’s hair you laugh lightly, “Too bad, Butch Cassidy.” You whisper at the window. You can feel Gator’s jaw working like he wants to say something but he keeps quiet and stays put. Stays in your room. Stays in your bed. Stays between your chest and keeps his fingers twisted in your sheets.

Just you, he’d said. Just you.

[bluepeachstudios]

GitS Asks!

It's all good ;P and no, not yet! He's been trying, especially with Ghost sleeping a lot more recently, but he has not yet succeeded. The problem is that Ghost can hear Don prepping the tagging gun.

Oh yeah. He regrets it a lot. Especially when Leo goes "well if you hadn't LEFT-" all dramatically. Leo's half-joking, but it really does just. Stab Ghost with guilt. He wishes he'd been strong enough to stay with them when they were younger. He could've helped Splinter a lot more, and they wouldn't have such abandonment issues now.

Ghost enjoys the absolute chaos coming from them even though he would never listen to this kind of music itself. Technically spoilers, but the boys don't actually tell Ghost that they're going to perform at Albeartoland. It's a very secret thing. Can you imagine the heart attack that man would have? It'd be insane.

He does. This is exactly why he printed out the pictures.

He's still a bit stubborn about it, but Ghost can get him to cave and admit fault pretty quickly.

Ghost has met them both! Dr. Delicate Touch he appreciates. It lets Mikey get out his anger, even though there's definitely kinder ways to put things, but Mikey generally pulls Dr. DT out when he's needed. Dr. Feelings, Ghost always gently puts his hands on his shoulders and tells him thank you for the reminders, but Mikey doesn't need to be the family therapist. He can help by being a little brother. Ghost will help them if they're having problems, as best he can, and they can talk about it as a family.

Mikey asks who's going to help Ghost with his problems, and Ghost just rubs his head and changes the subject.

Maybe one day Splinter accidentally leaves the manhole cover off as he's sneaking out for supplies. Maybe the kids followed him. Maybe Ghost is in the Hidden City, too far from his way home to get to them fast enough before they leave the safety net of his cameras.

He doesn't know what happened. He just knows that he finds only Mikey, hidden tucked away beneath a dumpster inside of his shell. Ghost pulls him out and coaxes him out and Mikey bawls and tells him that Leo and Raph and Donnie were taken by somebody.

Ghost takes Mikey back to the lair and is waiting there when Splinter arrives. There's a bit of panicking and yelling between the two. Splinter's scared Ghost has hurt his children, Ghost is angry at Splinter for being so careless. So begins Ghost's hunt.

Raph isn't easy to find, but he is the first purely because he's still on the surface. The EPF has him, and Ghost has been hunting for mentions of the EPF since he first saw youkai. He's never found any, but following what happened to the kids via camera shows Donnie and Leo being taken into the Hidden City while Raph was basically sold by a yokai in disguise to the EPF. It's been two months already.

Ghost doesn't use guns, but it's the first time he really thinks about it. Unlike usual, he has no plan. Instead, he goes in, mystic ability blazing out of pure rage and desperation. He finds Raph in a small cage, muzzled and whimpering in fear until he recognizes Ghost. Ghost gets the muzzle off, gets him out of there. Kills Bishop for good measure with Raph tucked into his cloak so he can't see.

He doesn't find Donnie for a year since they were grabbed. He doesn't have the power of technology in the Hidden City like he does above-ground. He gets him out of there. Leaves the Battle Nexus in ruins and Big Mama very dead.

Leo is with Draxum. Draxum is finding out he's terrible with kids. Leo is causing chaos wherever he goes. Draxum is fine with giving Leo back to be raised. He'll come back for him, though.

(I realized how long this was getting halfway through and went the more silly route with Leo fhgdkjfgdh)

Raph: may I present to you.... peepaw Brothers: cheering wildly Ghost: =.=

Surprise child you get gay depression instead!

These are fun thoughts fhgdkjfgh

Ah yes, approved and added fhgkdjf

Ghost can tell he's got self-worth issues. He doesn't approach it head-on, instead he's just trying to gentle push Leo in the right direction. He knows being a teenager is rough. Especially with how their lives are. But he also doesn't want Leo wallowing in that mindset for too long.

=================================

drainiandream asked:

It suddenly just hit me rereading chapter 27 that Ghost actually holds himself to a much higher standard than he does his own Splinter, even in hindsight. Like he always speaks about his own father in the highest esteem, and clearly doesn’t hold any blame or resentment toward him for “letting” them lose a good chunk of their childhoods to fighting otherworldly threats. Despite how much it clearly hurts him, he’s never entertained the idea that 03 Splinter was at fault for any of it (as he shouldn’t, tbh! 03 Splinter is fucking phenomenal in terms of parenting in any series with kid/teenaged heroes that have one present. I can’t actually think of another cartoon in general that had an informed parent in the loop that still did everything he could to protect them/wasn’t weirdly okay with child endangerment due to cartoon logic) And yet despite him clearly understanding this about his own father (or at the very least not allowing himself to look back critically on the people he’s lost), he clearly thinks he should be able to do better. The one unwavering thing about Ghost is his desire to keep the boys as just kids enjoying kid things. He’s still trying to hold onto that hope that he can do it even now, despite the piling warning signs that he’s in over his head (they all are). He blames himself when the kids worry about him or get into trouble he can’t prevent. Unfortunately for him, it’s a universal constant that the reason they become heroes/save the world is simply because they’re the only ones who can. It’s honestly a really interesting and potentially painful realization, if he ever has it. He resembles his father so much without even realizing it, and is going through the exact same emotional struggle 03 Splinter did during the series. Hell, it’s probably the one common ground (besides love for their sons) that he and Rise Splinter will have now as things get progressively more dangerous. I just. Man Ghost’s Splinter would be so proud of him today and no one in the Riseverse can even tell him that.

Ghost is incredibly hard on himself. He's depressed! He's got anxiety! Spending 24 years alone meant that all those bad thoughts were never interrupted. Everything negative he ever thought of himself was never interrupted, it just compounded on itself over and over until it was no longer a bad thought to him but the truth.

03 Splinter would be so proud of his son. He would be sad he never tried to reach out for company in a world where he could have (in the Hidden City) when they came from a world where they couldn't. He'd be sad that Ghost is torturing himself when it wasn't his fault.

Rise Splinter's the only one who could tell Ghost that his father would be proud of him, but coming from Splinter, it feels cruel. So Splinter says nothing, and Ghost continues to punish himself.

HEHEHEEE I'm glad you enjoyed it!! :D It's still so wild to me that people talk about GitS in real life. Or like. Not to me? Like this is a weird thought process I know but hear me out; the fact that people like something of mine enough to talk about it to their friends or partners or family is insane. Like. Holy shit. You're spending time and energy to talk about something that I spent time and energy making??? w i l d.

[argumate]

you have some knowledge of classic hong kong kung fu movies, right? like bruce lee, maybe john woo and jackie chan, I'm not really sure who the big stars are. do you have any you particularly recommend? I'd like to watch a few

I'm not actually an expert on this (or anything) and my experience is somewhat scattershot, which makes me wonder what I've even watched, hmm.

Bruce Lee, I've only actually watched The Big Boss in full as a movie, but seen enough clips of the others that they feel familiar; honestly despite the way he towers over the field I think he's more valuable as a conceptual inspiration than a maker of actual movies.

Jackie Chan is obviously incredible; his early movies might be a little cheap and silly but they're far more advanced than anything Bruce Lee had the chance to do and he made so damn many of them! he's not just a kung fu guy but a master of physical comedy, a modern Buster Keaton, and yes obviously the stunts wow.

John Woo fills in the "charismatic gun-fu" and "fluttering doves" side of Hong Kong movies and those are surely worth dipping into at least a little, especially if you appreciate Chow Yun-fat.

Stephen Chow is a personal favourite; a very funny comedian but his comedies include Shaolin Soccer and Kung Fu, as well as the two part Journey to the West parody (Chinese Odyssey) which is fantastic.

Leslie Cheung wasn't a kung fu star but A Chinese Ghost Story by Tsui Hark is still the best version of that movie ever made.

oh and while we're on kung fu comedy, Eagle Shooting Heroes from 1993 is the funniest damn thing and has the best scene of toad-style kung fu put to film; allegedly made in a rush while Ashes of Time ran over budget, it borrows most of the cast and has both Tony's Leung and Jackie Cheung as well Brigitte Lin and Joey Wong and Maggie Cheung.

hmm actually these are all kung fu comedy recs but kung fu lends itself naturally to comedy (and the best comedies have a solid emotional core); Tin Ha Mou Seung (Chinese Odyssey 2002, no relation to the other film with a similar name) is a hilarious spoof of Wong Kar-wai films and classic Shaw Brothers movies like The Kingdom and the Beauty and The Butterfly Lovers, it's great!

oh turns out there is another film titled Chinese Odyssey from 2022, which was Ng Man-tat's last movie before he died of liver cancer; what a pity, that guy was great with Stephen Chow and made more than fifty movies in his career.

okay I'm rambling here and there's tons of other kung fu movie possibilities I haven't covered, like 36th Chamber of Shaolin or the first Ip Man movie, Donnie Yen movies in general, oh and anything with Sammo Hung in it, just go watch some movies already!

[personne-writes]

Rise August Art Challenge

I stumbled upon @sariphantom's Rise August Art Challenge and it really hyped me up! Sooo, here's a one-shot covering two prompts: "April O'Neil" and "Sleepover". YES, I am on time for the second prompt 😎 Enjoy!

----------

Weird

1600 words, no particular warning needed

----------

"Pass me the screwdriver, will you?"

Donnie lets his hand open in the air for a couple of seconds, then another, before wiggling his fingers. When, still, nothing comes, he increases the volume a notch. 

"Screwdriver?"

No answer. 

Not bothering to pull his goggles off, Donnie tears his eyes away from the Turtle Tank radio system to look at the figure standing beside him. 

Leaning against the desk, April has her eyes locked on her phone, expression bored. 

Shrugging, he makes a few steps to get the tool and gets back to the matter at hand. He is deep into focus again when she suddenly decides to talk, distracting him. 

"Do you think I'm weird?"

The question is simple enough, and April’s voice is nothing but neutral. In reaction, Donnie's chuckle is immediate and genuine. 

"Oh, that's a good one," he grins, amused, putting his welder down on the table. 

"It is?" April asks. 

"I don't know, April, you tell me!” he says as he tugs at a few wires to test them. “You're the one attracting extraordinary situations like a magnet." 

"Right," she says, and something sounds off. 

Lifting his goggles over his forehead this time, Donnie turns to her and notices the slightest frown on her face. The social behavior studies he despises must have gotten something right, because surely enough, Donnie feels himself frown in return. 

"Oh snap," April jerks when her phone pings, "is it Wednesday already?!"

"Wednesday, August 16th," he provides absentmindedly. 

"CRAP!" she shouts, straightening up and walking away in a rush. "My English assignment! Gottagobye-"

"See you later," Donnie calls after her, and stares at the empty doorway for a second or two. 

----------

Later that day, the atrium of the lair is the theater of an impromptu brainstorming session. 

"We wanted to go for another Sewer Tire Ride. Why not bring her along?" Raph cheerfully suggests. "Those are always fun times!"

"Except when some of us get separated from the group," Leo mumbles as he fiddles with his skateboard's wheels. 

Mikey shakes his head with energy. "Guys, there's no way April will want to swim in the sewers." 

"Plus," Donnie adds, "it's not exactly an activity I'd call normal."

"But she ain't exactly normal either," Raph remarks. 

"Sheesh, Raph, you can't say to a girl she's weird," Mikey jokes, and misses the way Donnie flinches. 

"Well, it's not the first time she frets about this stuff," Leo points out, holding his chin. "She could probably use something classic, for once."

"Aaand we're back at the beginning of the conversation," Donnie sighs in defeat. 

"Let's focus for a second," Mikey says, holding one hand up in front of him, rubbing between his eyes with the other. "What's a thing we do that's both enjoyable and normal?" 

The silence that follows is so dense they can almost see it with naked eyes. 

"Okay then," Raph pushes, "what's a thing humans do that's both enjoyable and doable for us?"

"That eliminates everything sewers related," Donnie thinks aloud. 

"And Turtle Tank related," Mikey adds. 

"And heroes related," Raph pouts. 

Leo snaps his fingers. "Ooh ho ho, I think I know just the thing!" he says in his best I'm-awesome-and-I-know-it voice, which makes everybody subconsciously tense. He flips his mask tails before making finger guns at his self proclaimed twin brother. "Donnie, you're loaded, right?"

Donnie cringes. 

He doesn't like this. 

He doesn't like this one bit. 

----------

April’s conception of normality might be a bit skewed. 

“I found Mayhem in the streets,” she’d told her parents when she’d first brought her new pet home. It’s a mutant dog thingie I picked in a mad goatman’s lab, she hadn’t said. And it also teleports, she most certainly hadn’t added. 

“I’m going for a sleepover at my friends’!” she tells her parents now as she leaves with her backpack. You know, the giant turtles living in the sewers, she doesn’t say. Whose father is a rat formerly known as an action star movie, she definitely doesn’t add. 

On her way to the nearest manhole, she tries to take a guess at whatever the plan might be, knowing full well it’s a lost battle. The boys have been rather vague with their invitation, like they often are. Hey, you should come over for pizza night, they say before dragging her in a maze of death. Yo April, wanna come see Leo make a fool of himself as a basketball mascot? they ask and then end up playing against a full team of mystic monsters. Not that she minds, really; she’d die before admitting it, but that maze pizza might’ve been the best she’s ever had, and she finds herself having fun all the way with whatever situation they get themselves into. 

The thing is, there’s nothing in there that she can bring up in casual conversations with her classmates, which leads to her barely sharing any of her personal life at school. Which leads to her feeling like an outcast, at times. 

April’s nature being what it is, she doesn’t mull over it. Right now, she’s quick to shake the blues away, and she’s excited as ever when she reaches the lair. The boys greet her with a glee she’s delighted to see, and they start speaking all at the same time, explaining they’re actually going out for the week-end. That’s hardly the first time something like that happens, April thinks, not reading too much into it - okay, maybe she’s getting a little suspicious over the Hamato family’s growing agitation. Raph’s hands are stimming, Leo and Mikey keep on interrupting each other, Donnie has his sacred board shorts on and Splinter is carrying an honest-to-God suitcase. With wheels. 

She can’t help but squint skeptically when they leave the Turtle Tank in the garage and get in an old-school van instead - probably a rental car. Raph makes himself as small as he can to fit at the back of the van, and Donnie hits the road as soon as everyone’s settled. April’s wariness is short lived, though, with how easy it is to vibe with the pop music blasting on speakers; how funny it is to take sides when Raph and Leo fight over which song to put up next, how good it feels to join Mikey and Donnie as they sing their lungs out, or how amazed she is at the way Splinter recognizes the landscapes around them as they get out of New York. 

April half expects their destination to be some kind of yokai residence, or maybe something along the lines of a mystic cave. She’s actually surprised when they pull up in front of a cute, cozy, perfectly typical little cottage next to a pond, lost in the middle of nowhere. 

The boys jump out of the van like the seats have been burning their butts; April reminds herself they’ve probably never been driving for this long before. She’s glad to stretch her legs, too, and the excitement takes over her once more as they go exploring their house for the night, bickering over who gets to take which room, making “whoops” of victory with every new discovery in the closets and whistling in appreciation at the size of the bathroom, which looks like it can handle even Raph. 

If April wasn’t so thrilled, she would marvel at how casually the whole week-end flows, at how domestic and relatable this sleepover is. She’s too busy hosting a cannonball competition in the pond to think about how different it feels from their clandestine dives into New York rooftops’ pools. Too busy decorating her homemade pizza to realize how common the ingredients are. She’s so focused on her Monopoly strategies to try and remember when was the last time she played board games with anyone, and she’s too captivated by the local frogs’ loud singing at night to bother with any kind of late evening existential questioning. 

Her sleep is so sound that the rays of the sun aren’t enough to wake her up the next morning; she gives a silent nod to her past self for putting up an alarm and sneaks her way downstairs, fully intending on making breakfast for everyone. She revels in the way the smell of eggs and bacon wakes the whole house up, laughs at Leo’s repetitive yawns, puffs up at Mikey’s praises on her cooking. She smiles as Donnie instinctively checks his phone, forbids Splinter to wash the dishes - that’s the least she can do to express her gratitude - and joins Raph for a little morning jog around the pond. When they pack up again, each of them seems lighter than they had before the trip. 

It’s only on their ride back to the city that it dawns on her. There are a lot of things they could’ve done differently this week-end. They could’ve gone to a mutants-friendly place, or gotten some fancy Hidden City pizza. They could’ve traveled with the help of Leo’s portals, or stayed in the lair for a movie night like they usually do. She knows how sincerely she would’ve enjoyed each of these options.   

But the truth is that she’s glad for the road trip. She’s charmed with the cottage, and baffled with the simplicity of it all. 

This is definitely something she could tell her classmates all about, if she wanted. And maybe she will, when the opportunity presents itself. 

Right now, though, she’s just content to lay her head against Mikey’s shoulder and to drift off, lulled by the sound of Leo’s bragging about some imaginary victory at RISK and by the smoothness of Donnie’s driving. 

From then on, they pick a new place to spend the week-end at least once a year, and they all look forward to those moments just as much as the Lair Games. 

[teetant-meetant-neetle-teetlz]

I have this headcanon that Rise Donnie’s mystic powers only work if he himself knows how to build the weapon WITHOUT his ability, y’know?

So, what I mean to say is, if there’s a specific type of canon he’s never built before, he won’t know how to automatically make it appear without previously knowing how to create it. He has to understand the inner workings of a machine to recreate it with his mystic energy.

Which, that’s exactly what I think Donnie’s power is. Condensing his power into usable energy. He can make basically 3D diagrams of things if he so chooses to. Sure we can say, “Can’t he just shoot off energy from his finger by pointing at someone or something?” But that’s just not Donnie. Not only that, but seeing him summon like, 30 guns and fire them all at different speeds and at different trajectories really helps show just HOW analytical he is. 

In the heat of a battle Donnie knows WHAT weapon to create and HOW to use it and WHEN. He’s paying attention. He’s summoning. He’s controlling the flow of the field and his creations. 

At the same time of using his mystic powers (and I believe being the most impressive with them seeing as though he took the longest to ‘accept’ and ‘unlock’ them, and yet took to using them so quickly and naturally-) Donnie is also still showing off his knowledge and intelligence. He’s not just creating random guns and cannons or lasers, he’s creating full replicas of existing things because he knows how to make them already. 

I think this also helps his character because, not that I’m saying Donnie isn’t creative because he TOTALLY IS, but it shows how... ‘realistic’ he is and his take on mystic powers and what not. Yes he finally has accepted his abilities, but he’s using them in his own unique way that still shows off his own personal growth and hard work without them.  They’re just a tool for him to use, another one in his arsenal. 

At first I thought Donnie’s mystic powers were a bit of a cop out, but the more I thought about it and connected the pieces, the more I thought, “Oh, actually, this makes sense...”

[torturedblue]

Raph: Uh oh…

Mikey: What’s the matter?

Raph: This granola bar has peanuts in it!

Donnie: Oh my– why did you eat it?!

Raph: I don’t know! It was just there!

Donnie: Well if it were a gun sitting there would you have shot yourself?!

Raph: Don’t yell at me!

Leo: We need to get him to the medbay!

Mikey: Right now?

Leo: No after his tongue has swollen to the size of a BRISKET YES RIGHT NOW!

[harringtonstilinski]

Reunion - Richie Boyle

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Richie Boyle x Reader Word Count: 1,188 Warnings: angst, small fluff, mentions of guns, mentions of blood Smut: no | yes; Requested: I don't remember... if you requested this, pls let me know!! A/N: Hi, friends! After having this sit in my google docs for over a year, I finally got inspiration to finish it! I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Ten years ago, I left Chicago and vowed to never return… that is until my father passed away. He was head of our family’s crime organization. Yes, I knew my father was a mobster. Did it scare me? A little. Did I want anything to do with it? Absolutely not. 

See, my father had no sons, only daughters. I have an older sister and younger sister. We’re all two years apart. My older sister wanted absolutely nothing to do with our father’s line of work, same with my younger sister. So, the only two people to take over from my father was his right hand man, Donnie Ward, and… me. 

I guess I didn’t have a choice but to come back, especially for the funeral. I was standing with my mother at his grave site, black dress and shoes on both our bodies, watching as my father was lowered into the ground. My mother, hysterically crying, was taken away from the six foot square in the ground. 

Lifting my eyes to dead ahead of me, I saw a family I didn’t think I’d ever see again; the Boyle family. We were allies with them, which meant that my sisters and I grew up with Richie. His father, Roy, was good friends with mine. 

Deciding it was best to talk with them, I walked around the grave of my father, walking straight to Roy.

“Mr. Boyle,” I smiled, hugging him.

“Y/N!” he said, hugging me back. “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” I replied. “How have things been?” 

He knew exactly what I was talking about. “As good as they’ve always been.”

I nodded my head. “That’s good.”

Turning towards Richie, Roy said, “You remember my son, Richie?”

Smiling and taking a few steps towards him, I said, “Who wouldn’t?” Richie and I hugged before doing that thing where you kiss both their cheeks in greeting. “Richie, how ya been?”

“Good, good. And you?” he asked.

Gesturing around me, I replied, “All things considered.”

Him and I looked at each other, not saying a word. I didn’t think words needed to be said with the looks on our faces. 

Roy cleared his throat, causing me to look from his son’s eyes to his own. “As much as I would love to get down to business, I don’t think now would be appropriate.”

Confused, I asked, “Get down to business?”

“It means that my Pops, here, wants to join forces. Combine the families together,” Richie explained. “Just for business, not personal.”

I smiled a little to myself, looking down. “Never mix your business life and personal life.” Looking back up at Richie, we both finished my father’s quote, “Or someone will wind up either hurt or dead.”

My name was then called by my mother. I said my goodbyes to both Boyle men then walked over to my mother, putting my arm around her shoulders and walking her to the car.

~~~

“Look, I don’t care how much he fucking owes. Get me my money!” I slammed the phone on the receiver, sighing as I sat back down in my seat and closed my eyes. “Fucking men.”

“Aww, we can’t all be that bad.”

I opened my eyes, seeing Richie leaning against the doorway to my father’s– my office. “Yes. You all are that bad.”

Gesturing with his chin towards me, he asks, “Who and how much?”

“You remember my father’s right hand, Donnie Ward?” I asked.

Richie nodded his head, folding his hands in front of him.

“It’s him. Apparently, when my father told him that I would be taking over the family business, he got all pissed and stole two grand. Now, my guys are trying to find him to get the money back.”

Knowing what my answer was going to be, Richie went ahead with the question that I knew he was going to ask. “And what are they going to do when they find him?”

I stood, placing my hands flat on the desk. “Blow his fucking brains out.”

He smirked. “Good answer.”

~~~

“I should be taking over, not her!” Donnie bellowed.

I stood there, checking my nail polish as my guys went on their torture spree on Donnie.

“Doesn’t matter, Don,” I singsonged. “This is a family business. You’re not family.”

“Being your father’s right hand made me family!”

I looked at him, seeing the trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. “Not in my book. My father died and left the business to me, and only me. My siblings wanted nothing to do with it. They hated this job, especially this part. Now, you can either tell me where my money is…” I said, trailing off at the end.

Walking forward, I grabbed the gun from Thomas, my new right hand. I walked over to Donnie, standing about a foot from him before raising the gun, putting the barrel right between his eyes. “Or I’ll blow your fucking brains out myself.”

Donnie scoffed. “You wouldn’t. You’re too sweet for that. Daddy didn’t–”

“We found it!” Charlie said. “In his apartment, under his bed.”

“Now, you don’t have to kill me,” Donnie chuckled.

“Ohh, but I do,” I said. “See, you did my father wrong. Told him to take all the bad deals while you went behind  his back and took all the good ones for yourself. You personally put my father through hell with this business. I’m having to clean it myself. But you know what I won’t be cleaning?”

His eyes stared into mine, waiting for my answer.

“Your blood off the floor,” I sneered before pulling the trigger.

Once the reality of what I had done started to sink in, I backed up on shaky legs, handing the gun back to Thomas. “Take care of the body. I don’t care how or where, just get rid of it.”

Nausea started to set in as I made my way back to my office. Once I stepped inside, I started to almost panic, feeling hands on my shoulders.

“Hey, hey, take it easy. What happened?”

I turned around, seeing Richie standing there.

“I shot Donnie. I fucking shot him.”

“Where?”

“Between the eyes.”

He gave me a look of sympathy, pulling me into him as I started to cry. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ve all been there.”

“Not you,” I pointed out. “You’re too chicken.”

He chuckled, which caused me to chuckle in return. We looked at each other before he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear that had fallen from its hold. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”

I couldn’t help myself as I stood my toes, pressing my lips to his, feeling him kiss me back instantly. Our lips moved in sync before my lungs felt like they were catching fire. Pulling away from him, slightly, I took a quiet breath in, feeling his forehead press against mine. “Our families,” I whispered, taking another breath in.

“What about them?”

“They’re combined.” I looked Richie in the eyes, seeing nothing but adoration in them. “You’re mine now. You always have been, and you always will be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N 2: i forgot this was done in first person pov, lol. but let me know what you thought!

Additional Note: i hope i did richie justice! 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​​​​​ @stixnstripesworld​​​​​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​​​​ @quanticobae​​​​​​ @mischiefandi​​​​​​ @kellyashcroft​​​​​​ @lauren-novak​​​​​​​ @good-vibes-and-glitter​​​​​​

Posted on December 7, 2023