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ginnyrules27 · 2 years

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Behind Closed Doors

Harry couldn’t help but smile as Uma walked towards him, their two groups reconnecting with a few unexpected guests. Okay, maybe ‘few’ wasn’t the right word to use—after all they had been looking for Beastie Jr. and DeVil’s ravishing little duckling had certainly been welcomed as she managed to stop the angry beast.

That sword that shoots water is certainly an interesting idea, Harry thought as he kept an eye on Beastie Jr. out of the corner of his eye. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Beastie was certainly stiffer than someone who claimed to be fine should be. It’d be nice to have one of those on the Isle…though now that I’m past the barrier I can have one for myself right now.

However, all thought seemed to vanish from his head as Uma wound up by him, her hand on his hook. It wasn’t a hug like the type Beastie Jr. and Mal were sharing but it didn’t matter to Harry. Uma was safe and he wasn’t Beastie Jr.’s lunch. Neither was Gil for that matter, thanks to DeVil…which was something he didn’t think he’d say let alone think.

“You okay?” Harry muttered into Uma’s ear, following Mal and Beastie Jr.’s lead. Normally on the Isle, that would have never been done because he was basically asking Uma to reveal a weakness. But he figured it’d be okay to do here. He could just hook anyone who mocked them.

“Yeah,” Uma said softly as she nodded her head, breaking out of his grasp but not before gently patting him on the back.

“I always knew you’d be part of the solution,” Beastie Jr. said, Mal so close to him you could barely swing a sword without nicking either one of them. Harry had to admit, it was a little weird seeing Beastie Jr. with a beard considering the last time he saw the teen King in person, he was tied up on the mast of the Lost Revenge sporting a bruise on his cheek courtesy of Harry.

However that wasn’t as important to Harry as the fact that Uma seemed to almost be flattered by the comment. At least, that’s what he got from the smile and the way Uma had slightly bowed her head; looking away from Beastie Jr. and Mal.

What on Earth? Harry thought and shot Uma a small quizzical look that he wasn’t even sure if Uma had seen since her attention had been more toward the ground. He turned away as he heard Mal start to go ga-ga over Beastie Jr.’s beard…not that it didn’t look good on the teen King but there were more pressing matters weren’t there?

That wasn’t to say that his ears didn’t perk up when he heard Uma mention Beastie’s fangs.

“Okay, so we all think that Audrey could be at Fairy Cottage,” Harry heard Mal say and he brought his attention back to the task at hand. Battle plans he could handle, Mal flirting he could not. “We have no idea where it is, did she ever take you there?”

Okay, I know time is of the essence but that doesn’t mean you have to talk as if you need to beat the tide with your words, Harry thought as he rubbed his nose. Being around all the new plants and flowers…it was irritating that was for certain.

And where did Gil get the orange ball he was holding? You know what, that wasn’t important. He could ask Gil where he got it once this Audrey lass was apprehended. Normally he wouldn’t have an issue with people who hated Mal; the ‘Shrimpy’ incident probably lived more in Harry’s head than it did Uma’s and that was saying something.

But Audrey had put Uma at risk with that stunt with the Knights and that was something Harry could never forgive. Yes he knew Uma was a skilled swordswoman and she always had an extra trick up her sleeve with her water magic (or at least she did now that she was outside of the barrier and could use it) but still. Harry was Uma’s First Mate and best friend, he was going to worry about her safety.

He’d spent what felt like a year worrying about it as he searched for any word, any inkling of news about Uma’s whereabouts when he and Gil were trapped on the Isle.

No, don’t think about that, Harry thought. Focus. Mission first.

“Every Fairy Godmother’s Day,” he heard Beastie Jr. say and felt a bit of relief upon hearing that. At least Beastie knew where this place was. Of course Beastie’s next question completely decimated that feeling of relief but at least it was there for a few seconds. “Where’s Fairy Godmother when you need her?”

“I wish I knew,” DeVil’s duckling said as everyone glanced over at her. Harry looked away as DeVil walked over to his duckling with a box in his hand. Harry really didn’t care about whatever he was going on about though he was yammering something about a 3D printer whatever that was, all he really cared about was making sure Uma was okay.

“You sure you’re alright?” Harry muttered into Uma’s ear. The way she’d almost run out of the castle there, Harry was almost concerned that she’d had a claustrophobic episode. She used to say being trapped on the Isle made her hate being closed in though Harry was the only one she ever told that.

“I’m fine Harry,” Uma muttered back. “What about you? Gil? Any injuries I need to know about before we find a way to take down this Audrey chick?”

“No injuries but oddly enough we owe that to Jay and DeVil.”

“…Really?”

Harry nodded but didn’t say anything as he glanced over at Mal and Beastie Jr. They seemed to be having an intense conversation though for the life of him he couldn’t really hear what was being said.

However, he could see that Beastie Jr. was hiding his injured hand from Mal’s sight. Granted, it was a scratch from that splinter that DeVil had removed but that sucker seemed to be deep in there. And the last thing the Isle needed was for their ally to be taken out by infection of all things.

Catching Jay’s eye from where the older boy was either chatting with Celia or Gil, Harry nodded his head over in Beastie Jr.’s direction and Jay nodded; his eyes growing wide as he realized what was going on.

“Doug!” Beastie Jr. called as if he’d seen the interaction between Harry and Jay, walking over to the bespectacled boy who Harry only just realized was there. Then again, could you really blame him? “Go with Jane. We need to find Fairy Godmother.”

Beastie Jr., has your brain been rattled during your stint as a Beast? I mean yes the duckling is able to take care of herself but I don’t know how much water would be able to do against whatever Audrey tries to throw at her and…Doug was it? Wait…that blasted broadcast of Cotillion said he was with Blueberry...I mean Evie…he was one of the Dwarves’ sons…oh the irony is delicious, Harry thought.

As if reading his mind, Uma walked over to Beastie Jr. and tapped him lightly on the arm. “They might need some muscle,” she told him as Beastie Jr. looked over at her.

“Hey!” Doug, or Dwarf Boy as Harry had begun to call him in his head, exclaimed and Harry resisted the urge to snort. Was Uma wrong?

“Well, I’ll go,” Harry heard Gil offer and he paused. Was that such a good idea? Yes Gil had muscle to spare but what the blond had in muscle, he lacked in braincells. Then again, Blueberry’s...Evie’s Dwarf Boy and DeVil’s duckling seemed to have more than enough braincells to go around. It was the muscle they needed more of.

“Yeah, actually, I would feel better,” DeVil spoke up. Harry couldn’t exactly blame DeVli for that since neither Dwarf Boy nor the duckling seemed to be well trained on a sword.

“Yeah, actually, I’d feel better too,” Evie said and Harry once again fought the urge to snort. Just the fact that Evie was with Dwarf Boy was amusing to no end.

“Same,” Mal added, holding up her hand as she walked forward.

Ah, good Mal. See, you can follow Uma’s ideas and the world won’t end! Or are you just trying to not look like a contrarian to your Beastie Jr? Harry thought though Dwarf Boy’s agreement and Gil’s joy seemed to wipe away some of the rant Harry was going on, even if it was in his head.

The three of them headed off as the rest of the group made their way back into the castle. Harry, though, looked over his shoulder as DeVil called his mutt to follow and saw Beastie Jr. and Mal staring off to the horizon.

Time wasn’t on their side but it was clear to anyone with eyes that Beastie Jr. needed a moment to get his bearings.

“Oi Jay,” Harry whispered. “Hows about you guys take five minutes, debrief Beastie Jr. on what’s happened? You know, you did promise him details to follow.”

Jay snorted. “I don’t think Mal will want us wasting—.”

“It’s not wasting time to have everyone in our crew on the same page,” Uma said, having not left Harry’s side. “Harry’s right, if Ben’s not on the same page as us that could lead to something that Audrey could use to divide us.”

She rolled her eyes at everyone’s look of shock. “What? Splitting up people is kinda my mom’s MO or did you lot forget about the Vanessa trick she pulled on Ariel and Eric?”

“Oh and the fact that you just want more time with Harry is completely innocent is it?” Celia teased. “You’ve barely left his side after all.”

Uma rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you haven’t been in Auradon a week and you’re already sounding like them.”

“Uh huh,” Jay chuckled as he twirled Harry’s hook around his finger and chuckled at the stunned look on said pirate’s face as he realized what Jay had pilfered. “You know, as long as we’re delaying things…Evie, your studio’s unlocked right?”

“Jay…what do you have planned?” Evie asked with a sigh even as she nodded.

“Oh just something that’s been years in the making,” Jay said and quickly grabbed onto to Harry’s wrist as Celia did the same with Uma’s. More than likely figuring that Uma wouldn’t try to get out of her grip and risk hurting the younger girl. Before the two pirates knew what was going on, they found themselves forced into Evie’s design studio and the door quickly locked behind them.

“So…did they forget that there’s another door?” Uma asked as she looked over at Harry, a slight breeze coming from the open studio door. Uma could smell the slight salty air from Belle’s Harbor and the Straight of Ursula…the salty sea air of freedom…

Harry didn’t answer, he didn’t even care that they were in a room surrounded by windows. Hell he didn’t even care that this might result in Uma slapping him or dismissing him as her First Mate. All he cared about was that he could have died at Beastie Jr.’s hands…er…paws and Uma would have never know his feelings.

He could feel Uma stiffen in shock as his lips touched her’s but then, to his own shock and relief, she seemed to return the kiss, keeping the pressure equal and matching him in terms of intensity.

Harry savored the taste of Uma’s lips on his, savored the slight feeling of her teal hair on his fingertips. It was soft, wavy like the ocean she had called her home after the Cotillion debacle. No matter how much he missed her braids, Harry knew Uma looked amazing no matter what.

“We can keep this between us,” Harry whispered after a few minutes as they parted due to the blasted need for air. “I know Jay would likely throw a party if he knew.”

Uma chuckled softly and pushed a piece of her teal hair out of her eyes. “For right now…we can keep it between us Harry. I…I’d rather not give that Audrey chick something to use against either of us. Just like the Isle.”

Harry nodded, a smile threatening to split his face in two. After all, one of the main reasons why he had never admitted his feelings for Uma while on the Isle was because he didn’t want anyone to use her to try to get to him. He had never thought that was the same reason Uma had used for herself. He thought she just didn’t want a partner.

Which he could understand. She was Poseidon’s granddaughter. He was the mere son of a pirate. Why would she ever want to risk dealing with a mortal man?

Gods, he had never been so happy to be wrong in his life.

“We’re going to need some ground rules though,” Uma said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

“Of course cap’n,” Harry nodded.

Uma sighed. “Harry, that’s rule number one. If we’re here, and if we’re…whatever we are, I’m not your Captain. We’re a partnership and we’re on equal footing.”

“And…and this is real?” Harry asked, his voice no higher than a whisper.

“Of course it is,” Uma said, the tone in her voice telling Harry that should have been obvious. “I don’t play around with people, Harry. I’m not like Ginny Gothel or the evil Step-Granddaughters. Or even Princess Blueberry for that matter.”

Harry shrugged. “I just…I saw the smile you gave Beastie Jr. is all. When he said he knew you’d be part of the solution…and I saw Cotillion. I…I saw your tears as you swam off…”

“Harry…” Uma sighed before giving him a small kiss on the cheek. One she hoped conveyed the apology she wanted to give. There had been no time to tell Harry her plan when she found Mal’s spell book before the barrier closed what felt like another life time ago but knowing what she knew now? She never wanted to hurt him. “I want you to listen to me okay? You have been a part of my world since practically birth. There is no one I want as my First Mate and there is no one I want by my side more than you. Ben is an ally and nothing more. Mal can have that world of royal finery, I’d rather have my world of pirates and freedom.”

Harry smiled and pulled her close, gently hugging her to him. “You’ve no idea how happy that makes me.”

“I think I have some idea,” Uma chuckled before shaking her head. “You were honestly jealous of Ben?”

“I mean…you had a private conversation with him…sent me off too, and I’m your First Mate…and you’re calling him by his name…”

“Harry, you were talking about hooking him, of course I sent you off to cool down before Mal showed up. Besides, Ben’s response to my offer of trash talking Mal was ‘I’d rather talk about you’. He’s a good ally for the Isle if he can make Mal finally care about the rest of us she left behind when Ben invited the four of them to Auradon but a bit too vanilla for my liking. Remember how he apologized to Gil for lying to him when Gil ran into Ben at the egg seller?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry nodded. “That boy is rather strange.”

“You’re telling me,” Uma snorted before gently breaking away from Harry to look around Evie’s studio. “Princess has some talent, I’ll grant her that.”

“That she does,” Harry nodded before pausing at one of the drawings. “Huh. So that’s what Jay meant by ‘I thought I recognized those pants’.”

“…I don’t know if I want to know,” Uma said, shaking her head. “But oddly enough that’s another ground rule I want to mention. No PDA. In private like this or among people in the know is one thing but nothing if we’re around strangers.”

“Fair enough,” Harry nodded. He knew Uma wasn’t big into the touchy feely and neither was he for that matter. “I’d rather not give my sisters a chance to grill me to death before I have the chance to really enjoy this.”

Uma chuckled. “You know your sisters would just talk to Uncle Hades and bring you back to life so they could continue to grill you right?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry nodded. “Now normally I’d say we should just enjoy this room Jay has so generously locked us in but since it’s nothing but windows, there’s not really a lot of privacy. So what do you say about busting out of here cap’n?”

“I think that sounds like a plan,” Uma grinned. Five minutes later, the two of them walked out of the room to see a smirking Mal and a lack of Ben.

“Where’s your boy?” Uma asked.

“Napping,” Mal said. “Jay told me about you guys finding him as a Beast. I know my dragon transformations still take it out of me and those are done willingly. I can’t imagine what an unwilling transformation could do to Ben’s body.”

“Oh…” Uma nodded before pausing and looking at Mal once more. The smirk was still there, vexing Uma. “And uh, what’s with the smirk?”

“What? I can’t celebrate the end of the denial that plagued the Isle?”

“…JAY!!!”

“Shh! Ben’s napping,” Jay said with a slight bark of laughter as Harry chased after the older boy; both Mal and Uma shaking their heads at their antics.

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I thought I’d try my hand at a Huma centered one shot this go around! I’ll tell you what, sticking to actual canon is difficult after living for so long in my AU world but I hope I did okay :D Mostly going off of movie canon as that’s what I’m more familiar with, with some smattering of book canon here and there because I am trying to read the books. They just make me angry every time I try lol

But yeah, I needed a reason to explain the time jump from mid day when they all reunite to night.

#harry hook #uma #descendants fanfiction #descendants one shot #huma one shot #Behind Closed Doors

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nicolasnelson · 1 year

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his walls come down (huma fic)

Title: his walls come down Relationship: Harry/Uma Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Post Descendants 3, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together Christmas Gift for @camboyces @carsonsofias @natalia-dyer and @brightcliffes Words: 2625

Summary: Harry's afraid to tell Uma that he doesn't want to go to Auradon now that the barrier's down. Can an honest conversation with her lead to something more?

[AO3 LINK]

#descendants fanfiction #descendants fanfic #descendants #huma #harry hook x uma #harry hook #uma #*#my writing #merry christmas!!!!!

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xempasuchil-love-blog · 2 years

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A year ago I just sit on the sofa and started watching sea videos and playing certain songs that in a moment gave me the best idea for writing I've ever had. I started writing the prologue hand write on my huma note book but I got excited and wrote it on the computer in that moment. Then I think I never be able to write something as awesome. That I never had written something as good in quality as this in all my life.

During the months I spent writing this, it was the best time I ever had on my life. I was really happy with everything around, feeling all the love for myself, for the people that are important to me, for the words in my mind and every book in my blue shelf. I got a pirate tattoo. I found the best subjet for my philology final work (about history of some pirate words) and had my first best drunkeness of the life. While writing the last chapters I met my best friend! And even if we're each one at the other side of the world, I am grateful for her.

I met another great support, a loving person that I appreciate so much. She was with me encouraging me to keep writing and stop being this insecure dumbass girl.

As stupid as it sounds, write this story helped me to get confident, to see how far I can go as a writer and it will always be in my heart.

Now I really want to write the sequel, and I am about to do it!

Just wanted to do this A Pirate's song appreciation post because I love my story so much.

And thank you if you ever read it!

#uma daughter of ursula #harry hook #huma #uma x harry #harry x uma #harry hook x uma #descendants #uma x harry hook #descendants fanfiction #auradon

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justinewt · 2 years

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Hanging by a Thread - DBH REWRITE Chapter Two

[Detroit: Become Human MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: After they failed to catch the deviants they were after and protecting Connor from getting destroyed if he tried to run after them on the highway, they had a casual chat over lunch until Connor was sent a report on another potential deviant not far from where they were having lunch. The outcome of this second chase of the day was much more unexpected than initially thought by the three of them, especially for the perfect android that was Connor, and by far.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: DBH spoilers (especially chapter 15 : The nest), sarcasm, chase down, angst, life or death situation, first hint of deviancy, more angst

November 6th, 2038

03:02 PM

Hank drove past the fast-food stand and pulled over, parking the car along the sidewalk, right across the street from the Chicken Feed. The rain had been falling non-stop ever since they chased this deviant and the little girl, but were ultimately unsuccessful in catching them, because Hank kept Connor from running after them on the highway. It had gotten the young woman thinking about this, for a moment, Hank and she had felt like their partner was human and the Lieutenant acted like he would have actually died but she knew they were both aware it wouldn’t have been the case. He was just a walking piece of plastic who had been assigned to them as their partner, not a human whose life they had to care about, at least she thought. Charlie had opted for the hooded sweatshirt she had put in her car, with the hood pulled over her head, and her police officer uniform jacket over, to protect against the rain since it was waterproof. Her hoodie was more comfortable and warmer than the tee-shirt she previously wore anyway.

She was typing a text to her mom when she saw her dad park the car. She looked down at her phone screen and just turned it off, looking away. The last contact she had with her mother probably dated back to her birthday, two months ago. You couldn't say their relationship was at its best, but it wasn't unusual for Charlie. Since her little brother died and she got out of the hospital, she made her mother feel left alone when she chose to stick with her father, but Charlie resented her for leaving him in the first place. What happened wasn't his fault, so he wasn't to blame and yet that's exactly what her mother did, out of grief for sure but he didn't deserve such a treatment. At least, his daughter didn't give up on him. Hank got out of the car without a word and so did she, ignoring Connor sitting on the back of the car. She swept those thoughts away in a sigh and followed her father out of the car, ignoring Connor sitting on the backseat of the car and as he always did, he just watched them silently.

“Whooa! Hey! Hey! Hey!” He grabbed Charlie’s arm and stretched out his hand as a driverless taxi came their way and it slowed down until they passed.

“Hank. How’ you doing?” Gary asked, busying himself in his truck.

“Eh, you know, same old shit.” Hank shrugged and the tall man looked at Charlie with a warm smile.

“Always amazes me how much you’ve grown, kid. Look at these bright blue eyes, you must have guys lining up.” Charlie laughed, more out of embarrassment than because it was funny though.

“Yeah, well, wherever they are they can wait. I’m just 25. ‘m not gonna get married tomorrow.” She joked and Hank nodded.

“Good answer.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes, like she used to do as a teenager, and he said something that would annoy her. Gary laughed with them, and he turned around to make his burger.

“Plastic with you?” He asked.

“Only temporary…” Hank affirmed heavily, like it was some death sentence. Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, looking down the street when Pedro, a friend of her father’s came up to him and hugged each other. She noticed Connor walk across the road to join them and rolled her eyes again, pacing on her arm with her finger. The android glanced at her and joined his hand behind his back and stood equidistant between her father and her, looking around with that emotionless facial expression that seemed frozen on his face, but that was normal after all, it was just a piece of plastic mimicking humans. Charlie looked at Connor from the corner of her eyes; the little LED on his temple turned yellow as he observed the man her father was talking with. It was really a thing he always did to watch people. She wondered how much he could see by doing whatever it was he was doing, and she wondered what had shown up when he looked at her back at the police station.

“Hey! You won’t regret this!” Pedro assured Hank and as he walked past Charlie, he gave her a warm smile. The now young woman and police officers was rather well-known among her father friends. Connor then stepped forward and went right next to Hank and the latter sighed heavily.

“What is your problem? Don’t you ever do as you’re told? Look, you don’t have to follow me around like a poodle!” Connor seemed confused when he looked away and Charlie cleared her throat to contain a laugh. The android sometimes made the situation so awkward it was becoming funny.

“I’m sorry for my behavior back at the police station.” Connor said. “I didn’t mean to be unpleasant.”

“Oh, wow…” She chuckled softly, shooting up her eyebrows. It took Charlie a second to realize that she had had the exact same reaction as her father to Connor’s apology.

“You’ve even got a brown-nosing apology program!” He turned his head to Connor for an instant before looking straight ahead at Gary again. “Guys at Cyberlife thought of everything, huh?”

“Sure did.” Charlie nodded and noticed Connor’s LED going yellow again when Gary handed to Hank his drink and burger.

“Here you go.”

“Ah! Thanks, Gary. I’m starving…”

“Don’t leave that thing here!” Gary groaned, pointing at Connor when Hank walked to the standing tables next to the food truck. Hank briefly stopped in his tracks, letting out a slight chuckle.

“Huh, not a chance! Follows me everywhere…” Charlie followed her father to the tables and so did Connor, obviously. Hank opened the burger box and let Charlie take two bites of it before starting to eat the food he had ordered for himself. She didn’t eat fast food much and especially not that kind of high calorie fast food but when she accompanied her father, she would always eat some of his food, just for the sake of the old days, as she used to do this very thing as a child and even as a teenager. Her mom wasn’t very fond of that kind of food, so she didn’t eat many burgers but with her father, it was a different story. He would always let her eat some of his burger as a kid and not tell his ex-wife about it. It was something she kept doing, even after becoming an adult of her own. Connor watched them before speaking up.

“Your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level. You shouldn’t eat that.”

“Everybody’s gotta die of something…” Hank shrugged, and Charlie rose her eyebrows, staring down at Connor, swallowing the bite she took of the hamburger they shouldn’t eat, and she leaned over on the table.

“I don’t want to alarm you, Lieutenant, but I think your friends are engaged in illegal activities…” Charlie smirked, widening her eyes, looking shocked.

“Do you now?” She chuckled and glanced down the street. It was nicer now that the rain had came to a stop, but she kept her hood over her head for warmth.

“Everybody does what they have to, to get by… As long as they’re not hurting anybody, I don’t bother ‘em.” Hank then replied. Connor simply nodded before continuing.

“You seem to know everyone in the district.”

“Detroit’s my home. Born and raised. Know most of the guys around here. Went to school with them, or I busted ‘em… sometimes both.” He shrugged lightly before taking another bite of his hamburger. Charlie looked at her father. He sure knew a lot of people in town and even if she was born and raised here as well, she was acquainted to far less people. Maybe because after being bullying and treated as undeserving while being seen as competition by her peers, she never gave much of a thought to starting friendships. She had a few friends during her time at the academy, but they all left the state and went to other places, so she never kept in touch with them, and they didn’t either. Now, all that her life was about was her job, her father and making him proud of her, and being proud of herself too. She really felt like she had no need for friends or a lover. She was genuinely far too busy for these things that would greatly slow down her career. After the disaster that came of her parents’ marriage, she never wanted to go through something like that, so maybe in a way, avoiding bonding with other people would help prevent anything like it to be thrown her way in the future.

“This morning, when we were chasing those deviants…” Connor was leaning on the standing table, staring at Hank. “Why didn’t you want me to cross the highway?”

“Cause you could’ve been killed.” Hank declared and he nodded at himself as he went on to add more to the explanation to the reason why. Charlie frowned imperceptibly, remembering the moment when he had ordered Connor to stand down and stay behind this high grid that separated him from the successful completion of the chase with the deviants. And she thought that his question wasn’t so dumb after all; he was an android and technically he couldn't die. “And I don’t like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment.”

“Is there anything you’d like to know about me?” Connor wondered, changing the subject.

“Hell, no… Well, yeah, um… Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?”

“CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.” He explained.

“Well, they fucked up.” Charlie exclaimed, granting a proud look from her father as he was surely thinking the same and about to say it as well. She definitely took the words right out of his mouth. After all, she had learned her sarcasm from no other than the great Lieutenant Anderson, her illustrious father.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?” Hank didn’t say anything and simply nodded. “Why do you hate androids so much?”

“I have my reasons.” He replied in a serious tone, gazing at him. Charlie let out a silent sigh and straightened up, randomly looking down the street. Connor glanced at her as she remained quiet, but she had nothing to add to this. Although he had spoken in the first person, she was very much included in that statement. They both sure did have their reasons why they despised androids so much. After an awkward silence, Connor spoke up again.

“Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants?”

“You read my mind. Proceed.”

“We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids, which can lead to them emulating a human emotion.”

“In English, please.” He raised his hand, stopping Connor in his explanation. Charlie chuckled quietly because on her side, she was understanding what he was saying. Connor inclined his head, looking down at the table.

“They don’t really feel emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can lead to unpredictable behavior.” Hank nodded, taking a sip of his soda.

“Emotions always screw everything up… Maybe androids aren’t as different from us as we thought.” Charlie stared into space out of the corner of his eye, biting the inside of her cheek, thoughtful. He was definitely not wrong. She looked back at Connor and Hank as he continued. “You ever dealt with deviants before?”

“A few months back… a deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl… I managed to save her.” He declared.

“So, I guess you’ve done all your homework, right?” Hank wondered. “Know everything there is to know about me?”

“I know you graduated top of your class, so did your daughter. You made a name for yourself in several cases and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit. I also know you’ve received several disciplinary warnings in recent years and… you spend a lot of time in bars.”

“So, what’s your conclusion?”

“I know you’re an experienced officer, and I’d like to earn your trust. Both of you. I’m sure we can solve this case if if we manage to work together.” His brown gaze shifted from Charlie to Hank as he spoke, and he subtly winked at them. The LED on his temple turned yellow and he blinked. “I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It’s a few blocks away. We should go have a look.” He glanced down the street. “I’ll let you finish your meal. I’ll be in the car, if you need me.” Hank and Charlie watched him walk towards the car and exchanged glances out of the corner of their eyes.

“Hey, Connor!” Hank called out to him, and the android opened his eyes, his LED going back to blue after it went yellow for a little while. He was standing still in the elevator and just looked at Hank and Charlie, standing in front of him in the hallway. “You ran outta batteries or what?”

“I’m sorry. I was making a report to Cyberlife.”

“Huh…” Charlie sighed, replacing behind her ear a blond lock that had escaped from her bun, looking around the filthy corridor and Hank called out to Connor after the android stayed still for a few seconds, in silence. “Well, do you plan on staying in the elevator?”

“No! I’m coming.” He assured and Hank shook his head before walking down the hallway, followed by Charlie who gave a sidelong glance at Connor. The android eventually came along.

“What do we know about this guy?” Hank inquired.

“Not much. Just that a neighbor reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody’s supposed to be living here, but the neighbor said he saw a man hiding a LED under his cap.” Charlie frowned, listening to Connor as he stated the information thay had on this and she watched him crouch down and observe a mucky pile of feathers on the floor.

“Oh Christ, if we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Connor stood up and went to knock on the apartment’s door. As there was no response, he looked at Hank ad the latter shrugged.

“Anybody home?” He knocked harder on the door. Charlie and Hank frowned upon hearing noises coming from inside. There was some movement. “Open up! Detroit Police!” Suddenly, the loud noise of something fallig over caught their attention.

“Stay behind me.” Hank demanded as he and Charlie pulled out their guns. She kept her weapon aiming down, her hands gripped on the handle.

“Got it.” Connor said, stepping back. Hank kicked in the door, and it slammed opened. He entered the premises with Charlie and Connor behind him. It was suspiciously quiet all of a sudden and Charlie thought that if there was indeed someone in there, it was not just unlikely but rather impossible that they just vanished into thin air. While Connor and Hank inspected a couple of rooms along the entrance hallway, she walked to the main room. The door wasn’t closed all the way, so she glanced through the opening, remaining at safe distance in case someone was behind it and when her father and Connor came, she kicked the door in. She winced and grunted, raising her hand to her face in reflex as dozens of pigeons flew away as they arrived.

“What the fuck is this ?!” Hank swore. Charlie looked around the room. The foul stench that literally assaulted her nostrils led her to keep her hand at her face as she looked around them. The sole window of the room was closed so she walked up to it. “Jesus, this place stinks.”

“Only an android can live with such a smell… and so many fucking pigeons.” She declared as she pulled up the window and took a deep breath in of fresh air, fresh Detroit air anyway.

“Uh, looks like we came for nothin’, our man’s gone…”

“Were the windows closed in the other rooms?” Charlie asked and Hank looked at her curiously.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, unless our man’s a fucking ghost, he must not be very far. You can only leave this place through the door, or the windows.”

“Actually, you’re right.” He nodded and she smirked.

“Of course, I am.” Her gaze then shifted on Connor as he picked something up from a shelf.

“The driver’s licence is fake.” The android stated.

“Cool! At least we didn’t come for nothing…” Hank figured; hands pressed to his waist. Connor then leaned over a jacket lying on a piece of furniture by a doorframe leading to a small bathroom.

“R.T. Probably initials.”

“He put his initials on his jacket? That’s something your mom does when you’re in first grade.”

“I remember mom doing that to all of my clothes. The tags were so itchy though.” Charlie sighed at the memory as she walked around. It was sad that she had lost touch with her mom, but the young woman didn’t like the way her mother dismissed her father’s grief after her little brother’s passing, as if only her pain and sadness was valid. It wasn’t his fault they got into a car accident. Charlie believed that when really love someone, you don’t just throw them under the bus at every inconveniency, you stick by them and get through whathever situation you’re in, together. But her mother didn’t do that, and she was disappointed.

“Its LED is in the sink.” Connor told them.

“Not surprised it was an android. No human could live with all these fuckin’ pigeons…”

“That’s what I said.” Charlie stared at her father, nodding and while he joined Connor in the bathroom and she heard them speak, she walked to a poster hung on the wall and observed every inch of it until she noticed the corners that must have been bent and moved so much that they were worn. She stretched her arm and picked up a top corner, letting the poster hang to the side. There was a large hole in the wall with a tattered diary.

“Found something?” She turned around at her father’s voice rising from behind her and showed the small book as she opened it, only to find strange encryption and drawings.

“Connor, come here.” She called him and the android walked up to her. She handed him the diary and crossed her arms after putting her gun away. He frowned, trying to understand the stuff written inside but he shook his head.

“I don’t know… It’s indecipherable.”

“Great.” She sighed and went to take another look around. “What else did you find in the bathroom?”

“Maze drawings and scriptures all over the wall.” Her father informed and she nodded. She bit her lips, frowning and stared at the birdcage knocked over on the floor. She walked to the doorframe to the bathroom and noticed a wooden stool lying on the floor in the corner of the small room.

"Connor." The android looked at her and she gestured towards the cage and the stool. “You can see what happened here? It wouldn’t sound too crazy to me if that’s what we heard falling earlier.”

“Good intuition.” Hank nodded, pursuing his lips, proud of his daughter’s sharp wits. While the two human police officers then watched their android partner stare at various objects in the apartment staying for a dozen of seconds in front of each of them, Hank swore more than time than one could count about how he hated these pigeons. Connor started by looking at the stool in the bathroom, and after a few minutes of observation, he walked to an armchair in the corner of the living room and looked up. Charlie frowned as she approached and saw a shadow move above their heads. Suddenly, someone jumped down and Charlie and Connor fell backwards, both letting out a grunt as their backs hit the parquet. Hank helped up his daughter.

“What are you waiting for?! Chase it!” He urged Connor, already back on his feet and the android immidietaly started running after the deviant. Hank and Charlie followed him but even a young and fit woman like her, although skinnier than she should be, couldn’t keep up with a machine as such as Connor. They kept up with the machines as best they could, watching the chase between the two androids, quickly out of breath. Charlie outran her father, crossing the fields of the urban farms over the Detroit skyline. They eventually came near the edge of the roof and the deviant budged her, making her fall over the edge. She let out a cry but managed to seize the eave in time, holding her whole body weight with one hand. Teeth clenched, she stretched up her arm to try and lift herself up, but Connor face appeared above her and held his hand out for her to grab. She took his hand and he helped her back on the roof.

“Thank you.” She said, still trying to catch her breath, glancing over the edge, thinking that she could have fallen to her death if it wasn’t for Connor. When she looked to her right, she saw the deviant vanished through the high corn cobs on the building and she realized that for some reason, Connor chose to prioritise her survival over the success of the mission he had been assigned.

“Charlie!” Hank called out her name, panting. He bent forward, leaning on his knees before he straightened up and held her tightly in his arms. She couldn’t take her eyes off Connor as he stepped back, still confused as to why he didn’t go after the deviant if that was what he had been so carefully programmed to do. She had only met him this morning and she already started to see some humanity in him, however small it was. She wondered if he was even a deviant or something. First, he chose to obey Hank when the latter ordered him not to go after that female deviant, and now he chose to save her life instead of completing his dear mission. Hank eventually broke the embrace and looked over at Connor without saying anything until he glanced at where the deviant had disappeared. “We had it.”

“It’s my fault. I should have been faster.” Connor explained himself, following the Lieutenant’s gaze.

“You’d have caught it if it weren’t for me…”

“That’s all right.” Hank breathed out, patting Charlie’s shoulder and gave a grateful look at Connor. “We know what it looks like. We’ll find it.” Hank then led Charlie along with him to leave and get out of the building, but he came to a stop in the doorframe and turned to Connor. “Hey, Connor…” The android looked at him, but Hank shook his head. Charlie knew what he wanted to tell him, he was grateful because he chose to save the life of his dear daughter over his mission but pride as he was, he waved it off and left the premises with Charlie, leaving Connor slightly confused on the roof. If he was a deviant, he surely didn’t know that just yet. He was still very much a programmed android.

[To be continued…]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Published (08/07/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64

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donttouchmyheirwp · 2 years

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hey besties so i have a Ben Florian BWWM Descendants book out on wattpad. and i have storyline ideas I'm just struggling with a good transition between D2 and D3 or if i should even write D3 at all (bc we all know how shitty it is.) so my OC is Uma's older sister (her name is Udelia, faceclaim is Sierra McClain) and I'm trying to get the enemies to lovers trope going while also trying to improve the shitty script. so if anyone has any ideas that would be greatly appreciated! i am willing to send you my storyline ideas as well to help get an idea

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athenaeum-of-evil · 2 years

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Hehttps://archiveofourown.org/works/35989540/chapters/89717125

Good afternoon, I leave this story here, it is a mix between Ouat and descendants.

Once upon a time Descendants by Ani15

Rating: NR

Relationships: Ben/Mal, Jane/Carlos, Jay/Lonnie, Doug/Evie, Gil/Audrey, Harry/Uma, Chad/Audrey

Summary: In a fantastic world where the children of all the characters of fantastic stories coexist AURADON UNITED STATE. The happiest place on earth until …

Thank you for the submission, @aniovandoblog! ♥️

#aniovandoblog #descendants #descendants fanfiction #submission #fanfiction #bal #janelos #jonnie #devie #gil/audrey #huma #chaudrey #once upon a time #ouat #answered asks

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awkwardlyfangirly · 2 years

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(y/d/n) will be (your dad’s first name) and (y/m/n) will be (your mom’s first name) and (y/l/n) will be, u know, (your last name). <3

the request was for headcanons but I usually write fics not headcanons so this kinda ended up just a fic with bullet points instead of paragraph breaks so YEAH i hope u still like it ahaha

tw/cw: themes of racism/prejudice in the form of anti-mutant sentiments (if you’ve read my earlier fic “sunday morning at the grocery store,” this is set in that same type of world. “half-bloods” (mutants) have been technically, officially accepted into society; but personal opinion tends to vary.)

note: here is the post with some background for the story! and here is the link for the raph version!

/////////////

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Donatello x female reader

/////////////

Donnie

(note: please see @chubs-deuce for the human donnie design that you should be picturing ahaha. link 1 and link 2 and link 3)

In the weeks leading up to the trip, he notices that something seems off about you.

So he corners you in his lab and asks what’s been going on. He taps his feet on the ground and his fingers on the edge of the table, and narrows his eyes at you until you talk.

“It’s… it’s about my parents,” you say, and stare at your fingers, and he leans back and waits for you to say some more.

“I haven’t told them… what you are. My dad won’t like… what you are.”

“Oh,” Donnie says.

“Yeah,” you say.

He sits down and thinks for a moment. You sit down too, dangling your feet off of the edge of the table.

“That’s his problem,” he says, narrowing his eyes, his eyebrows drawing together on his purple forehead. “The world is changing, yeah? He’s just going to have to accept half-bloods, at some point. Accept us, at some point.”

But you see his fingers tapping. He’s nervous. And you don’t blame him.

You rack your brain for a moment, peering in all of the corners, overturning neurons, thinking, thinking --

“What about the cloaking brooch?” you say, suddenly, feeling like a lightbulb has ignited triumphantly above your head.

“Hmm?”

“The cloaking brooch,” you say. “I mean, it’s okay if we hide… hide your… your turtleiness from them, right? We can warm my dad up to you before showing him, right? So why not try the cloaking brooch? Pretend to be human for a weekend?”

His eyes get big. Wild and big.

“Oh my Fibonacci,” he coos. “Brilliant.”

So you get your hands on a cloaking brooch and secure it to Donnie. The brooch adjusts to his thoughts; he sets his look.

“Well? Well?? How is it? How do I look??”

He’s in the bathroom, admiring himself in the mirror, flexing, turning, patting his hair, straightening his goggles.

“How do I look??” he demands, again, grinning wildly, and you don’t reply -- you’re too busy blushing -- so he answers for you.

“I look AWESOME,” he hisses.

Donnie loves his cloaking brooch persona. He’s very confident in it. Which is good. Because he’s going to meet your parents with it.

You take the brooch away from him. He protests.

“If anything happens to this,” you tell him, “my life will be over. It wasn’t easy to get this, babe.”

/////////////

You give it back to him when you slide into the car, starting your drive to your parents’ house.

You know that he means it when he says he’ll keep the brooch safe. He loves that thing.

He puts it on as soon as his door is closed. He’s grinning from ear to ear, flexing his ten fingers on the steering wheel, pressing his flat back against the car seat.

“This body is so normal to you!” he marvels. “But so foreign to me! The smooth, hairy skin! The thousands of fingers! The tiny torso! This is so weird!”

You giggle.

“Eyes on the road, Dee,” you remind him.

He focuses his eyes on the road dutifully.

He’s so happy with the cloaking brooch. So happy. But it makes you uncomfortable.

Why? Why is he so happy with the cloaking brooch? He’s happy because it takes himself away, isn’t he? Because it lets him exist as a “normal human,” pretend that he’s a “normal human”?

You don’t want him to think like that. You want him to be himself. You want him to be happy being himself.

You reach over and slide your hand over his. His long, warm fingers wrap around your own.

Five smooth human fingers. It isn’t your Donnie’s hand.

You squeeze tighter.

/////////////

You pull into your parents’ driveway after a little-too-many-hours spent driving. The silhouette of the house is familiar. The front yard looks like childhood.

Donnie stops the car. You step out. He pops the trunk.

The front door opens. You look over. It’s your mom.

Her hands are pressed together nervously, and she’s wearing her slippers. She hops down the porch steps and holds out her arms as she hurries over to you.

You hug. Big, long, squishy hug.

You haven’t been home in just over a year. You haven’t hugged either of your parents in just over a year.

You hear her heart beating. She’s nervous.

You suddenly remember that you forgot to tell her that your boyfriend was going to be… disguised.

He’s taking your suitcases out of the trunk. You gesture at him, through the hug.

“Mom,” you say, “this is Donnie. He’s, um, dressed up right now.”

Donnie grabs your mom’s hand delicately.

“Charmed,” he hums, and presses it to his lips.

She smiles distantly at him and then stares at you.

You sigh. She’ll want an explanation.

“See that brooch? It’s called a cloaking brooch. It keeps him looking… human. You know. For Dad’s sake.”

She nods slowly.

You sigh through your nose and try to press the brooch, but Donnie grabs your hands to keep them off of it.

“If I’m going to be human for the weekend,” he whispers, “I want to be human for the weekend.”

“Please? Just once? She… she won’t stop wondering --”

“Just show her a picture or something. Now. Let’s go inside. Human Donnie has a Dad to meet.”

/////////////

Your dad doesn’t like Donnie.

He doesn’t know he’s a half-blood, but it probably wouldn’t make much of a difference. He just. Doesn’t like Donnie. As an individual.

Donnie walks into the house and sees your dad and immediately starts talking too loud.

“Oh hello!! You must be the man of the house! Y/n’s dad! It is an honor to meet you, sir! Lovely human dad for my lovely human girlfriend! And I bet it is so exciting to meet her lovely human boyfriend, huh?? Are you a man of science, (Y/d/n)? Have you heard of quantum physics? String theories?? I am a man of science, yes I am! Would you like to hear about my latest inventions?? Ah, I’ll tell you anyway. You see --”

You know that all of this means that Donnie is nervous. He’s trying to impress your dad. But your dad is staring at you over Donnie’s shoulder, arching his eyebrows, as Donnie hunches his shoulders and rubs his arms and laughs and rambles, so you put one hand on Donnie’s shoulder and he immediately reaches up to grab it with his own.

“Donnie,” you say. “Let’s take our stuff inside, okay?”

“Okay!!” he says, quickly, and you walk out the front door together while your dad arches his eyebrows even sharper at you. You shrug nervously and follow Donnie.

“How was that?” Donnie is saying, as you wrap your shaking fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “Do you think he likes me?”

“Maybe let him talk more?” you suggest.

“Let him talk more?? Sure! Okay! Anything for Mr. Your Dad, right??”

He laughs loudly. You see the fear in his eyes.

It’s weird -- it’s not your Donnie, not quite. His skin is brown and warm, there’s hair coiling out of his scalp, and he’s… he’s human. Completely human. But he moves like Donnie, and holds his hands the same way, and he has his eyes. And every time he smiles you feel the same familiar butterflies in your stomach.

“You’ll win him over,” you assure Donnie -- you hope, verbally, at Donnie. Will he be able to win over your dad? You hope, you hope, you hope.

Your mom is working on dinner in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup; she switches out with your dad, and hurries you and Donnie to your rooms.

“Sorry about (Y/d/n),” she whispers to Donnie. “He can… take a little while to warm up.”

She goes back to the kitchen and you and Donnie stand together in your childhood bedroom for a moment.

“We gotta thaw out your dad,” Donnie says, rubbing his hands together, an unpleasant glint shining in his eye.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t. Whatever you’re planning. Just. Don’t. We just have to get civilly through this weekend without him discovering you’re a --” (you drop your voice, mouth it) “-- half-blood and without him hating you. That’s all. No tech, no tricks. Don’t try to impress him. He can tell when you’re trying to impress him. Just… just be yourself.”

Donnie doesn’t look like he’s listening to you.

You snap your fingers in front of his face. “Donnie. Donnie. Earth to Donatello.”

He blinks at you, twice, unfocused, and you can still see him Thinking behind those wild eyes.

“Donnie. What did I just say?”

“Um.” He blanks. “Uh --”

“Don’t try to impress my dad. He won’t like it.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me that before we got here?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think to! I haven’t brought that many boys around to meet my parents, I’m not really used with the procedure, and --”

Your mom pops her head into the room. You’re suddenly, awkwardly aware of how loudly you and Donnie were talking.

“Dinner is ready!” she says, quickly.

You and Donnie follow her to the dining room, your arms folded uncomfortably.

Dinner doesn’t go much better.

You start kicking Donnie under the table every time you decide he’s talking too much or trying too hard to impress your dad -- a.k.a. every time your dad moves his eyes off of Donnie’s face and stares directly into your soul.

Eventually Donnie takes a deep breath and grabs your hand under the table and holds it tight and eats his soup and just stops talking.

You’re at the house for the long weekend. There’s a full day and a half of tension between Donnie and your dad. They don’t really talk to each other; they barely acknowledge each other; and you can’t forget that this is without him knowing that Donnie is a half-blood. this is without him knowing that Donnie is a half-blood.

/////////////

You’re putting a tray of muffins in the oven when Donnie walks in, leaning against the counter, watching you straighten up and dust the flour off of your hands.

“I think your dad hates me,” he whispers.

“Donnie,” you say, but you’ve been thinking it too.

You watch him rub his arms.

“I don’t want your dad to hate me,” he says, his voice getting louder with each word.

You motion at him. Quieter. He drops his tone.

“I’m trying so hard to impress him! So hard! And nothing I do works. He just… keeps hating me. I’m trying my best! Why won’t he like me??”

“Look, Donnie, I don’t know --”

“Ask him,” Donnie urges.

“But --”

“Please.” His arms are folded, and his face is foreign, and his voice sounds more like home than this place ever did.

“Okay,” you say.

So you ask your dad.

/////////////

It’s around 3 o’clock, and Donnie lurks in the kitchen, and your dad is reading in the living room. His reading glasses are on the end of his nose, and his book is worn and dog-eared, and you sit down on the ottoman in front of his chair. Just like when you were little. It accepts you immediately, your crossed legs sinking into the plush material.

“Hey, Dad,” you say.

“Hey, baby girl,” he says, flipping the page.

“Can we talk?”

He sighs through his nose and folds down the edge of his book and sets it aside. He takes off his glasses, and folds them, and puts them on top of the book. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. He looks at you. You have his full, complete attention. You dad has always been Intense. If he’s mad, it’s very distressing; but when you want to talk, it can be comforting. There will be nothing else on his mind right now except you, and what you have to say.

“I’m listening,” he says.

“It’s about Donnie.”

He sighs, through his mouth this time.

“Donnie,” he repeats.

“Yes. Donnie.” You stare at his elbows. “Dad, why don’t you… why don’t you like him?”

He sighs, harder. “Honey --”

“Dad, please. Seriously. I want to know. He… he wants to know. He really really wants you to like him, Dad. He’s really trying to impress you. He just wants you to like him. I just want you to like him.”

“That’s it. That’s it right there. He’s really, really trying to impress me. And it’s, well, it’s not working.” He switches his tone to something nasally that you think is trying to imitate Donnie’s voice. Your cheeks burn. “‘Well, hello, Mr. Dad. Are you interested in my twelve Nobel prizes? Are you interested in all of my confusing vocabulary no one understands but me? Why don’t you like me? Oh, don’t bother to answer that, just look at my weird robots.’ He’s so… self-centered. And so desperate. He’s trying to make up for something. But I don’t know what. And he wears those… those weird goggle things? And he uses weird words that no one should ever say? And --”

“Dad -- yeah. I don’t really have a case for the goggle or the made-up words. That’s just who he is. That’s just Donnie. But… but he’s just trying to impress you. He’s so confident, believe me, but when he gets insecure he gets insecure. And it’s very easy for him to go overboard. And also he just, never shuts up, ever. Even when he’s not trying to impress someone. Which is never, actually. He’s always trying to impress someone. When I think about it.”

Your dad raises an eyebrow. “You’re not really helping his case, honey.”

“Ugh! I know! But, Dad, I really really really like him.” You lean forwards, dropping your voice, finally forcing your eyes to meet his own. “I love him. I’m in love with that man. And I want to marry him, so badly. No matter what you think. But still -- I love you, and I love him, and I just want you to be able to get along.”

Your dad looks at you, at your pathetic pleading face, and his forehead softens a bit.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll try to give him a chance, okay? But if you get married -- don’t expect me to be excited about seeing him, okay? Ever? Stay away from our family reunions.”

You pale a bit.

“That was a joke. You can come to the family reunions. (I guess.) But… but yeah. I’ll try my best to get along with him for the rest of the weekend, okay?”

All of the tension comes whooshing out of your body. Your shoulders finally relax, and your chest compresses.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Thank you thank you thank you, Dad, thank you, oh my gosh thank you. Oh my gosh.”

He waves a hand at you. “Calm down. It’s not that big a deal. Every dad has to go through this with their prospective son-in-laws. It’s a requirement to be a dad.”

You bounce up and down on the plush ottoman.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou,” you gush, and then you stand up and curtsy for some reason and hurry out of the room before you start crying.

/////////////

Why do you want to cry?? Why is your jaw aching??

You peek into the kitchen and see that Donnie isn’t there (he’s playing billiards with your mom in the basement, actually) so you just slink down the hall to your childhood bedroom, and the celebrity crush posters on the wall just make you feel worse. You curl up on top of your covers and bite at your blanket and let yourself choke and sob.

You grab your phone and text Donnie.

“please come see me in my room when u have a min thxx”

and he knocks on the door almost instantly.

“Darling?”

You don’t want to get up but when you try to yell at him to open the door, your throat is too tight.

But he opens the door, slowly, and sees you sobbing on your mattress.

“Darling? Y/n?”

His body is so weird and human but his voice is his own and his eyes blink at you from that foreign, foreign face.

You hold out your hands to him and he sits next to you on the mattress, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him, resting his chin on top of your head. You slap the cloaking brooch. You blubber into his plastron.

“You okay?” he whispers into the top of your head. “Everything alright?” And he rubs your back.

Are you okay? Is everything alright? Your emotions are tangled up in a knot in the middle of your stomach, and you can’t find the loose ends to even start to try to unravel it.

Deep breaths. In. Out. Donnie is rubbing your back and you’re gasping shakily into his plastron and your temples are starting to pound with the pressure building up in your head.

Why are you crying? Why are you crying?

And then Donnie presses his lips to the top of your head and hugs you a little tighter and you realize.

You realize that you’re crying because you’re in love with him, and your dad hasn’t liked him, and your dad is giving him a chance now, hopefully, and you’re in love with him, and if your parents like him, that’s one step closer to being able to spend the rest of your life with him. You want to spend the rest of your life with him.

You tighten your fingers around his skin.

Your throat finally loosens a bit, lets you talk.

“My dad’s going to try,” you say, your voice muffled by his chest. “He’s going to try to give you a chance. He’ll probably take you fishing tomorrow. Okay?”

“Fishing? Okay.”

(He doesn’t want to go fishing. At all. But for you? For your dad? Anything. Anything at all.)

“Thanks,” you mutter into his chest.

“Of course,” he says.

/////////////

Donnie and your dad don’t magically get along, of course, but your dad does try his best. For you.

He talks to you before you and Donnie leave to go back home.

“Your boyfriend is weird,” he says, immediately.

“Thanks.”

“But he loves you.”

“Yeah.”

“Does he… does he treat you good?”

“He treats me the best.”

And your dad takes your hands in his own.

“You’re my baby girl,” he tells you. “You’re the most important thing in my life, you know that, right? (Don’t tell your mom I said that.) And… and to be completely honest with you, I don’t completely like the boy. He… he just gets on my nerves. He does. But? If you like him? If you love him? And he loves you? And he treats you well? Then I have nothing bad to say about it. I will accept him however you want me to accept him. Okay?”

“Okay,” you try to say, but the relief is flooding into your chest, and so you just nod.

You were scared your dad would forbid it. You were scared he’d put his foot down and you’d have to never talk to him again if you wanted to be with Donnie.

And the relief fills your body and you bite at your tongue to keep from giggling deliriously.

But then you remember. Half-blood. He’s a half-blood.

That’s an entirely DIFFERENT hurdle to take care of.

You hug your dad, and tell him thank you, and then you find Donnie and press your forehead against his.

“Whatever you said on that fishing trip really worked,” you hum.

Donnie smiles at you and nuzzles your nose with his own.

(They talked on the fishing trip. They talked about Donnie, and about you. And your dad listened to how Donnie talked about you, how softly and gently, full of love and protection. He listened to the firm determination in his voice. Saw the way he held his hands when he said your name. And he decided that, no matter how much he didn’t care for Donnie himself, he cared for you, and you cared for him, and so he would accept Donnie into his family if needed. He wouldn’t try to keep you two apart in any way. He would let you be happy.)

“Of course he likes me,” he says with a grin. “Never doubted it.”

“Donnie --” You roll your eyes, and laugh.

He has his hands on both sides of your face, and he tugs your mouth closer to his; but you turn away. You can’t kiss that face. It doesn’t feel right.

“(Y/n)?”

“Sorry. It’s… it’s your face.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s right.” And you hear him remember that he is not his usual self. And you hear him remember that your dad will definitely have quite a few things to say about you spending your life with a half-blood.

“It can wait,” you whisper. “This trip we got him used to you, yourself, your personality. We can handle the half-blood stuff another time.”

“But it doesn’t feel right to keep it from him. He’s starting to trust me. I don’t want to have to break all of that trust in a few months.”

“Donnie --”

And he kisses your forehead and strokes your cheeks with his thumbs and then he takes off. You hear him calling for your dad.

DONNIE. What the HECK is he doing, that stupid dum-dum.

/////////////

Your dad is in the living room, reading; and Donnie kind of stands in the entryway for a moment. He knocks lightly on the doorframe.

“Knockity knock,” he says, and rushes in.

Your dad looks up.

“Hi, Donatello,” he says.

“Hey, Y/d/n,” Donnie says. What am I doing? What. Am. I. Doing?? Do I really want to destroy all of the fragile scaffolding we’ve built up over the past couple of days? But then he remembers you, turning your face away, and the lack of light behind your eyes when you smile at him. This isn’t him, this face, this body. He feels so confident and so secure in it -- but that’s because it’s not his. His body is a half-blood one. Not a human one. He doesn’t get to be a human -- and that’s okay. That’s okay.

Your dad deserves to know who he really is.

So Donnie sighs and whispers, “Goodbye, beautiful body,” and your dad arches an eyebrow, and Donnie presses his fingers against the cloaking brooch.

The brooch’s energy swirls around him, and then he is standing in front of your dad, as naked and exposed and vulnerable as he’s ever felt. He takes a deep breath and looks at your dad. He hasn’t rehearsed anything to say. The words propel themselves out of his mouth.

“I am a half-blood!” he announces, like it isn’t obvious. He balls his fists at his sides and lifts his head slightly, baring his chest to your dad. “I am a half-blood. Your daughter has informed me of how you feel about my kind -- and yes! I tricked you! I disguised myself for this trip. But only because I love her so much! And I didn’t want you to cast me away. So I hope that now -- now that we have gotten to know each other a little bit -- you will accept me for who I really am. I am the same man you spoke with on that fishing trip, Mr. (Y/l/n) -- only my body has changed. So yes, yes, yes I am a half-blood. But I love your daughter more than anything else in this world! And I didn’t want to keep my true self hidden from you any longer and break your trust any more than I had to. So. Kill me if you must. Banish me if you must. But I love your daughter.” He lifts his chin, dramatically. “I love your daughter.”

Your dad is staring at him. Three minutes ago, he was peacefully reading Great Expectations in the living room. Now there is a half-blood dating his daughter and standing in his living room.

“Y/n?” he calls, voice choked.

You poke your head into the living room. “...Yeah?”

“He’s a… a half-blood.”

You feel your stomach twisting, your heart pounding; you nod quietly and step into the living room, taking your place next to Donnie. “Yeah.”

“You knew?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been dating a half-blood, all this time?”

You reach for Donnie’s hand, taking his large cold green fingers in your warm ones. “Yes. Yes, I am. And I love him --”

“Baby girl. He’s… he’s not human.”

“Dad --”

“He’s not human.”

“Dad! Please, please just calm down for a second --”

“I am calm. I am remarkably calm. And you know it. You know how calm I’m being. For your sake.”

You squeeze Donnie’s hand, tight.

“Can I get a moment alone with my daughter? Please?” your dad says to Donnie, through tight teeth.

He glances at you for direction. You squeeze his fingers and nod.

He goes.

You face your dad, and take your seat on the ottoman, and stare at your hands.

“Baby girl,” he says.

“Dad.”

He sighs. “(Y/n), you know I’m not comfortable with --”

“Dad.” You feel your cheeks burning. “You told me that you--”

“That was before I knew --” he lowers his voice “--before I knew what he was.”

“DAD. What difference does it make?? He’s EXACTLY the same, he just --”

“Baby girl. Baby girl. Hey, don’t look at me like that --”

“I love him,” you hiss at him. “I love him, and I love you, but please don’t --”

“I love you too,” your dad says, leaning forward, his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes very earnest. “I love you too, baby girl, but --”

“-- don’t you dare --”

“-- I can’t let you stay with that man,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I can’t. I can’t, in good conscience, let you --”

“-- Dad --”

“-- I won’t be able to sleep. I won’t be able to sleep because of you, Y/n, I’ll just be so worried --”

“-- he’s not dangerous. He’s not dangerous. He’s just green. He’s the most brilliant man I’ve ever met and I’m so genuinely in love with him and --”

“-- have you seen the news?? Have you seen what they do? They have animal blood coursing in their veins. At any moment they could snap!! He could snap! And if anything happens to you --”

“-- he’s not going to snap, Dad, he’s not a monster, he’s not some animal, he’s as human as you and me! He’s just --”

“-- I love you, Y/n. I love you so much, and --”

“-- this is why he wore that brooch,” you snap, “this is why I haven’t shown you pictures this is why I’ve hid him from you. This is why he came in disguise. Because you were fine with him as a human, remember?? But the second you see that he’s --”

“-- I love you!” your dad argues back. “I love you!! When I thought he was human, he was good! He was safe! But now there’s danger, and --”

“-- I love him,” you say, “I love him, I love him, I love him. If you make me choose between you and him, I will choose him. I love him. I want to spend my life with him. I --”

And the voices get louder and louder, until you and your dad are both standing up in the living room, screaming, and your dad is red in the face and you’re choking down sobs and finally you just leave. You just leave.

You storm out of the house and buckle yourself into the car and slam the car door -- hard -- and you put your head down on the dashboard and feel your breaths hot in your skull.

/////////////

Donnie is still in the house, standing with your mother; they were in the kitchen the whole time, listening uncomfortably as you and your father argued.

“I think we should go,” Donnie mumbles, rubbing his arms nervously.

“Probably,” your mom mumbles back. “I’ll talk to him, okay? I’ll try to calm him down.”

“Okay. Thank you, (Y/m/n).” He smiles at her and takes a deep breath and presses the cloaking brooch again. (He’s hoping that seeing him as a human instead of a half-blood will help soothe your dad’s nerves a bit.) “I’ve had a great time with you this weekend.”

“Me too,” says your mom. “I’m so sorry about (Y/d/n). He’s just… yeah. I’m so sorry. You make Y/n so happy, believe me; and I’m so happy for the both of you. Just… yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

Donnie smiles at her again.

The suitcases are already in the car, so he doesn’t have anything to bring outside. But he hovers in the living room entrance for a moment -- should he say anything to your dad? Is it worth the risk? Will it burn any bridges if he doesn’t?

“We both want what’s best for her,” he says, in the doorway of the living room, and your dad doesn’t look up. “We both love her. We have that in common. Um. Goodbye. Thank you for letting us stay here.”

And he leaves, speed-walking to the car, getting into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition.

“You okay?” he asks, softly. Your head is still against the dashboard.

“I love my parents,” you say. “I love my dad. But he… he… Ugh. Could you hear it? What he said?”

“Yeah,” Donnie says.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not okay. He’s just… the world has changed around him, and he hasn’t managed to change with it. And he fights against that change. And -- and yeah. Yeah. But don’t worry, okay? I’m not going to leave you. You’re stuck with me. No matter what. Okay?”

He presses his cloaking brooch again and reaches his cold green hand out toward you. You grab it and rub the back of his hand, firmly, trying to make sure he can feel your love in the pressure of your fingers.

He sighs.

You sigh.

“Let’s just go home,” you whisper. “Let’s just go home.”

And he shifts the car into reverse and takes his foot off of the brake, and your mom waves from the porch, and you realize you didn’t even hug her goodbye, and you’ve felt like throwing up for the past three days, and you bite your tongue and raise one hand to wave at her. She blows a kiss. You make a heart with your hands.

You drive in complete silence -- except for the hum of the engine and the rumble of the road and Donnie’s dubstep thumping quietly -- for about half an hour. Donnie taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You sob and wipe your tears away with the hem of your t-shirt.

He clears his throat. “So. Um. How many half-bloods have you brought home, huh?”

It sounds almost like a joke, but a very bad joke. You rub at your eyes again.

“Uh. Just the one.”

“Cool. How… how would you rate my performance as a potential son-in-law? Satisfactory? Beyond satisfactory? Very --”

Data collection calms him down. His eyes are nervous, his fingers tapping. You reach out for his hand, and he grabs it immediately. You let him squeeze and press and play with your fingers, waiting for the tension to go out of his hands.

“I did my best,” he mumbles.

“You did.”

“I don’t think I like your dad that much.”

“Yeah. Understandable.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you told your dad that you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you… did you really mean that?”

“Oh, of course I really meant that. I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” You squeeze his hand tight.

He squeezes back. “Oh. Interesting.”

“Yeah. Interesting. I love you. You know that, right? I love you, always.”

“Yes. Of course. I love you too.”

You bring his hand to your lips, kiss each knuckle individually. He shudders and starts to cry.

“Donnie --”

“I’m so sorry,” he wails. “It’s just been a weirdly emotional weekend for me.”

“It’s been a weirdly emotional weekend for all of us, believe me --”

“I’ll do it,” he says, firmly. “I’ll marry you. I’ll do whatever you want. You want to travel the world? Done. You want a suburban life? Done. I’ll give you kids, I’ll be a malewife, I’ll buy you whatever you need -- see, I just want you to be happy, I --”

You laugh, blushing, embarrassed, in love.

“Donnie, I’ll be happy no matter what as long as I can be with you.”

“That’s HORRIBLY cheesy.”

“I know.” You kiss his hand again. “I’m horribly cheesy for you.”

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie x reader #my writing

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