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kingsandbastardz · 2 months

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So this is a thing that’s been bouncing around in my head for awhile, but I hadn’t really had a good starting point for it because it was just a billion fragmented pieces. I kinda have to write it now, though bc I think it’s giving me mental constipation and actively preventing me from writing other things. Anyway, forgive me for being long-winded.

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Regardless of how you see the ending – whether you think he reached enlightenment/ascended, or he died, or he lived -- llh’s story is about escaping the narrative.

FDB meanwhile is about being a catalyst of change or transformation, whether it is for his own life or llh’s. He exists in a shifting narrative space that's difficult to define and creates narrative movement from that.

DFS… well. He's still trapped.

First, what exactly is ‘the narrative’ I’m talking about here? It’s a thought or concept, it’s alive yet also not. It’s essentially the words of a story strung together and told and retold, adjusting to the whims of the storyteller and the desires of the people hearing it. It lives and changes organically based on call, response and group consensus.

It’s a crowd of people sitting around an old man in one town, nodding along and yelling when they don’t like the direction a story is going – and then in the next town, that same story teller making adjustments so he gets more tips that evening. It’s people in other towns asking repeatedly for the same story over and over because they like that one hero and each time, the storyteller obliges them, with small details being added or falling off. It’s the collected gossip that morphs as it moves like lightning through an entire city. It’s the records found in a courts’ archives where the ink has become smeared and illegible because a scribe dropped it in a puddle and the next scribe did his best to write in the margins what he thinks it said. Probably.

It is the men at the beginning and end of MLC telling the crowd about Li Xiangyi’s great feats while dressed in white, and heroically battling evil.

This changing, amorphous thing is The Narrative. Now, see the entirety of MLC as such a story—this narrative being told by all these different voices to the audience (us).

So LLH escapes it. FDB defies it and changes it and refuses to live by it.

DFS is… he is part of it. If he ever cared about what anyone says about him, dfs has long since given up on changing the narrative. He’s learned to accept it because it literally doesn’t matter what he says or does – ppl will always spin it to suit the needs of the story, which will then get passed around as fact. So he lives within this framework of societal expectation for the villainous. He weaponizes it to use it to his advantage. And, ultimately, he’s trapped by it.

Imagine a yin yang symbol. Imagine llh standing on one dot with dfs standing on another. Imagine the yin yang spinning as they both walk forward. They’re interlinked, never to be separated. They’re mirrors, but at the same time always moving in opposite directions of each other as the symbol spins. This is the position I image DFS being when in relation to llh.

Narratively, DFS both parallels and moves in opposite directions to llh.

Mirrored parallels, let’s go with that - Where they are the same but on opposite ends of it:

Visually dark vs light in clothing etc, even their masks are black vs silver and on opposite sides of their faces

Skills and energy-wise: both utilize pure yang energies but fast and overwhelming vs slow and steady

Positioned as great rivals/oppositional forces of equal skill

He’s just as trapped by the narrative as LXY but as the demon lord instead of the hero

Repeatedly placed on opposite sides of the screen as a visual cue

Dfs = chaos, llh = agent of order

Llh femme presenting for a very heteronormative appearing sect and storyline while dfs is extremely masculine/heteronormative appearing, but at the helm of a sect that is full of fringe elements and is potentially queer

regarding personal health - llh uses risk percentage as an excuse to not try to heal himself – meanwhile dfs will take any risk to heal himself even if it means he dies

Dfs rescued himself as a child while llh is picked up and nurtured by others

Dfs is a self-taught genius while llh is a trained genius

Dfs survives so hard he doesn’t understand what it means to want to die, llh wants to disappear so badly that he doesn’t understand what it means to desire to live

Oh right, and the thing I didn’t mention before. Not only does DFS live in the narrative. DFS is narratively bound to llh. He is not and was never independent of llh. Not due to lack of skill or for want of trying, dfs is narratively incapable of succeeding at his greatest goals without llh’s help – or ultimately fails due to llh’s actions. Either outcome, llh is involved.

He leaves the story when LLH does (disappearing into the ocean after the Donghai Battle) and returns to the narrative (leaves seclusion) the very moment FDB forces LLH to become active again and LLH starts moving to tie up loose ends.

His attempt for establishing peace was destroyed by Shan Guado and Jiao Liqiao, yes, but it ultimately fails because lxy declares war and ‘kills’ him. It takes LLH revealing himself to everyone and establishing events for things to quiet down.

Unable to reach the guanyin elixir without llh’s help

Unable to figure out the secret behind shan gudao’s death and the war between their sects without llh’s cooperation

Succeeds in finding the styx flower, not for himself, but for llh’s benefit

Unable to reach the next level of Beifeng Baiyang without help from llh and Yangzhou Man

Continuously bids for freedom and agency – but his first attempt is foiled by not being able to get rid of the mind control bug. Then during the amnesia arc, his ‘freedom’ from his enemies comes at the cost of being kept by llh as a servant. Then as soon as he was able to get rid of the mind control bug, he’s captured by jlq and his freedom/autonomy is taken away again. If the narrative was a sentient being – it’s watching him claw his way up the side of a mountain and every time he almost reaches the top, it chops his hand or fingers off to send him flying back down below. Ultimately, DFS is only able to regain physical and mental freedom when llh rescues him and choses to give him that freedom (see amnesia arc where llh tries to keep dfs as his servant/weapon).

Cure llh/save his life – ultimately stopped by llh’s actions.

Simply put – while llh exists without dfs. As far as the narrative is concerned, dfs does not exist without llh. Jinyuan Alliance is replaced completely by Shan Gudao as the bad guys in the story. (Which he was- but there is no mention of DFS or the alliance's roles - everything is attributed to lxy's heroism and return from the dead.)

So what happens post canon in a world where llh is dead? What then? We have fdb, right?

I’ve been bothered by this – and as much as I go on about how fdb is the future of the story. That he’s the inheritor of everything llh, including dfs... There is no guarantee of anything because he’s the guy that writes his own story and transforms his narrative.

We get the bit of bonding with each other in the zombie village when llh deliberately leaves them alone with each other (could this be an example of llh facilitating emotional bonds between the two?). We get fdb’s sense of betrayal later on when he thinks dfs turned on them. And then later his happiness when he realizes dfs was on their side. We get him calling dfs Lao Di. But then we have the moment at the eastern sea with the letter - where we get him running off to investigate alone until both men just happen to arrive at the beach at the same time from opposite directions. Because fate, I guess. I think dfs and fdb’s relationship is meant to be a 50/50 swing by design because we don't know the future and Fdb is ultimately the catalyst for whatever direction the story goes.

As two men who loved the same man and who tried their best but ultimately failed to keep llh alive, will he care enough about dfs to maintain ties with him or… just… walk away after saying his goodbyes --- you know, they way they often do in jainghu.

So just for speculation’s sake. Let’s say, with no additional input or relationship development. Let’s say they take the second route and go their separate ways. FDB doesn’t reach out further to DFS and DFS never tries to find fdb for a replacement fight. They never try to bridge that llh-shaped gap.

This is where we come to the third thing – Narratively, dfs’ purpose is to remind llh of the true past and to provide information or vehicles for him in his quest to address that past.

So what does that mean for dfs when LLH dies? Dfs, as a survivor, cannot physically do the same. How will he die narratively? Imo, with the way his movements mirror llh's and his role for llh, it makes sense that dfs will do what llh did - he goes back to where he was in the past. He returns to the beginning.

And from there? Maybe, DFS returns to seclusion, or a form of seclusion at least, once again in mourning. Because otherwise what else does he have left that holds meaning for him? Jinyuan Alliance? Whatever remnants remain... he never cared about it and I’d argue that at the very start of the series, he was already 1-foot out the door with retiring from leadership. Strength was freedom – he has both, so now what? Power and skill? The one person he wants to fight is gone.

DFS goes away. Days become months, become years and life continues on. New heroes and villians will rise and fall. And one day, fdb will remember he used to know a powerful guy. Whatever happened to him? And the people around him will shrug. Some may even be young enough to be like, “Who?” FDB lets it go because he’s a busy man. He’s got businesses to run, students to train, etc – can you blame him? His life is full. Eventually, he forgets he ever asked a question.

This is how the last living piece of dfs in the worlds’ consciousness dies. He fades away from memory, absentmindedly.

Maybe one day, a student or scholar will crack open a book about the history of li xiangyi and if they don't skim, they’ll come across a line or two talking about some guy that fought lxy that one time and ultimately failed to kill him. Maybe they will be motivated enough to look further into him, maybe not.

Llh remains alive as a memory – his legacy kept alive by fdb who’s his student and his students’ students. Sigu Sect and Baichuan Court remain as pillars of society.

DFS? Who is there to remember him? Who is there to see how his story ends? Does it matter? Who is DFS without llh?

There are plants that exist without their natural pollinators or creatures that eat their fruit because they are so ancient, those creatures no longer exist. We only know what they potentially look like based on the shape of the flower/plant/tree.. They survive because they have evolutionarily figured out stopgap measures to make up for the deaths of their pollinators. But one day those measures will no longer work. Stopgaps only buy time. That plant exists as a living memory of something that used to exist and then one day it too will die.

DFS is like that remaining plant.

You know that question about whether a tree exists if no one is there to hear them fall in the woods?

Now, here is me, getting a leg cramp in the audience. I’ve always loved the antagonists, the monster-shaped beings that weren’t really monsters inside, and all the random side characters that fall off the story one after another. I’ve always bothered the hell out of everyone bc I’m the person going “So what about x? What about y? Where is z now?”

So consider this me asking – in a story where his existence is swallowed by a narrative that no longer needs him - what about dfs? Where is he now? What is he doing now?

#But here's the thing. This is about dfs. I like to think that one day the story picks up again w/ a rich young shaoye and a guy named a-fei #they argue in the street constantly to the amusement of all the aunties #but everyone knows to go to them if your cat ends up in a tree or you lose anything or if someone mysteriously dies and the yamen ignore it #Or if your sister gets sold. She'll be back on your doorstep the next day with enough money for you to run away with her and start anew #mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #my royal ramblings #meta #li lianhua #fang duobing #me and my insomnia induced shitty takes

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stardust-fnaf · 3 months

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He can’t sleep it’s his fault it’s his fault it’s his fault—

#he has ✨insomnia✨#plagued with visions of his siblings and his father and the horrors of his childhood #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fan art #michael afton #fnaf art #michael afton angst #post scoop Michael afton #scooped michael #scooped michael afton #sister location #stardust art

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a-world-in-grey · 1 year

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Life Debts and why Nyx's is a Big Deal

@secret-engima because I've been thinking on this and have Feelings.

Y'all can find SE's original post on Debt Braids here, but a short recap:

Debt is taken very seriously in Galahd. If you owe a debt, it's expected that you pay it off as soon as you can - via goods, services, etc. Very large debts between families can be settled through marriage, but as it requires both potential newly weds to be completely willing (Galahdians don't do divorce, you're married until one of you die), that sort of arrangement is rare.

A Life Debt is declared when a Galahdian believes they owe a debt they cannot repay, usually because the debt is so large, so personal, that a value of the debt cannot be given. In such a scenario, the Galahdian will declare a Life Debt and weave a Debt braid into their hair. A Life Debt is declared on that Galahdian's life. Only they can pay it, and once they die, the debt is fulfilled.

Now, this is where we get to just how serious declaring a Life Debt is. A Galahdian who declares a Debt is declaring that they owe this one person so much, that said person essentially now holds their loyalty over even the Galahdian's own clan and Chief. That loyalty stays until the Galahdian dies. If the person holding the debt dies, the debt passes on to their heir. When the heir dies, the debt does not pass on to anyone else, but even then, the Galahdian is not free from the Debt. Instead, they are free to choose how they will fulfill the debt until they die.

Because Life Debts are such a serious thing, no one can demand a Life Debt as payment. It is only ever voluntary.

So now we get to Nyx's Debt to Regis.

(I won't go into why Nyx declared a Debt - canonically we know Regis once saved Nyx's life, but exact details are for everyone's personal headcanons.)

On the surface, it's not that big of a deal. Oh, it's significant. It's a major commitment Nyx can never take back, but it's not really a problem.

Three things make Nyx's declared Debt significant, even by Galahdian standards. 1) The holder of his Debt is the Mainlander King. 2) Nyx is a Clan Chief. 3) Nyx is the absolute Last of his clan. Any single one of these wouldn't be remarkable, but together they turn what would be a significant but standard Debt into a nightmare.

Regis being an Outsider would normally not be an issue. Oh, there are Galahdians that sneer in private over Nyx declaring a Debt to an Outsider, because they believe Galahdians don't owe Outsiders jack shit. (Is it xenophobic? Yes, but Galahdians have a strong insider-outsider mindset and there will always be extremists in any culture.) But they keep their opinions to themselves because commenting on someone's declared Debt is just asking for a broken nose. Even Regis being a king wouldn't be anything other than an unusual detail (because just what happened that caused Nyx to owe a king a Debt?). The biggest thing about Regis being an Outsider is that to fulfill the debt, Nyx pretty much has to leave Galahd for Insomnia until the king and his heir die or one of them gives Nyx explicit permission/orders to return to Galahd. Which sucks, but that's what Debts mean. Regis - and later Noctis - will hold Nyx's first loyalty until Nyx dies.

Nyx being a Clan Chief is where things start getting sticky. A Chief's first duty must be to their clan. Chiefs, as a rule, do not declare Life Debts. They can't, not when they're first loyalty has to be to the clan, instead of a single person outside the Clan. In the very rare cases a Chief feels they must declare a Debt, they step down from their position as Chief. At least, they should. There's no clan law stating someone with a Life Debt cannot be Clan Chief, but a Chief in such a position will either neglect their clan or their Debt. Neither is something Galahdians regard favorably. There's never been a case where a Chief has refused to step down after declaring a Debt, so none of the Clans have ever had to decide what to do, but it's likely it would not end well.

Nyx being the very Last of his clan means that there aren't any other Ulrics he has a duty of care to as Chief. He is the only one affected by his declaration of Debt, so him remaining Chief Ulric isn't actually a problem. Where him being the Last becomes the final nail in the coffin is if anyone ever joins Clan Ulric. Because unless the Clans somehow find an Ulric that escaped the Burning, Nyx can't step down as Chief.

Nyx's first commitment must be to Regis. Then to Noctis. Not to his people. Not to his friends or any personal relationships. Not to rebuilding Clan Ulric. Any spouse/children/clansmen would always come second unless Regis/Noctis allowed it.

(Do I think Regis and Noctis would allow it, if Nyx asked? Yes. In a heartbeat. But Nyx would have to ask. Might even have to explain, and as a whole, Galahdians tend to be... reluctant, to explain their culture to Outsiders.)

I don't think Nyx really thought about the long term consequences of his Debt, when he made it. He might have, and could have decided that the situation was such that he was honor-bound to declare a Debt regardless. But Nyx has a reputation for not really thinking before he leaps into action, and depending on when Nyx declared his Debt? If it was after the Burning, after Nyx lost literally everyone, he probably wouldn't have been thinking clearly even if he had taken the time to think the decision over. And that's assuming he would have realized the implications in the first place - if Nyx wasn't raised to be Chief, it's very probable he wouldn't have.

Every other Clan Chief would have caught the implications. They would have known, from the moment they saw Nyx's braid, that the Last Ulric would never return to Galahd (not when the likelihood of Nyx outliving a boy 12 years his junior was slim to none). That the Last Ulric would likely remain the Last, condemning the Ulric Clan to die with him.

#ffxv #worldbuilding #galahd culture #galahd #Nyx Ulric #braids #working on my various Sola aus and realizing what it means for Nyx to declare that Debt #in most aus is doesn't end up being a problem because either Regis dies and Nyx transfers the Debt to Sola as his chosen queen #or Nyx never bonds as Sola's Sword before either of them die and is never confronted with that particular crisis #but in Sunshine-verse *Selena is still alive* and *still a child* for about four years after the Burning #...oh I work with that I can *definitely* work with that #then there's the Memories-verse when Nyx finally meets Sola again after Sola's supposed death (and actually *knows* it's Sola)#and he's smacked in the face with the realization that he can't stay with Sola because Sola doesn't want to return to Insomnia #and Sola has very good reasons for not wanting to go back but Nyx *has* to go back *because he declared a Debt*#and that Debt will go to Noctis on Regis' death because Sola is still 'dead' and Sola (now going by Rhea) doesn't want to be Sola anymore #so Nyx can't tell Regis or Noctis about Rhea because they'd want Sola to come back but Rhea *can't* be Sola #can't be the daughter and sister she was before she fell down Taelpar Crag #before Taelpar Crag it could have worked - Sola's first loyalty will always be to Noctis so she would have understood and accepted #Nyx being unable to give her his first loyalty even as her Sword (which is how it works in the fusion with SE's Blood of my Blood-verse)#(and in the fusion with SE's Nox-verse though Sola does ensure that Nox is aware of Nyx's situation when the two are courting)#it's unlikely I'll ever have Regis or pre-Crystal Noctis learn that Nyx declared a Debt or what it really means

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dangerous-advantage · 1 year

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If you want, a disaster twins hurt/comfort drabble? Maybe even cuddles? You don't have to if you don't want to.

(cws: heights/references to falling from heights, discussion of canon-typical trauma, cursing)

Lightning flashed through the cover of clouds, exposing their rain-swollen underbellies. Leo counted the seconds between the latest strike and its corresponding rumble of thunder.

One, two, three...

He kicked his legs to the rhythm of his thoughts, concrete bruising his heels. The sting was grounding. Up here, above the city lights and conversation, Leo could use all the grounding he could get.

A fat droplet of rain smacked wetly on his arm. He looked up, just as the sky growled warning and unleashed it's downpour.

Leo closed his eyes and pretended not to breathe.

The rain had been worse this year. The last three days had seen scattered showers and an endless, overcast sky.

Leo liked the rain. God knows the city needed it. It made him feel cleaner than he had in a long time. Like New York was finally washing its hands of the events earlier that summer.

If he let himself, he could almost pretend everything was back to normal. That it had never been un-normal.

But the rain also brought new and unfortunate side effects. His time in the prison dimension left him scarred. Several months removed, he was still recovering.

The rain ignited his deepest aches. He'd lay in bed, clenching his jaw to stifle his whines of pain as the muscles in his legs cramped and spasmed. His shell ached, too, the cracks in his carapace lit up like a live wire. He'd popped three ibuprofen the day before, but this time, it didn't save him.

He'd hoped fresh air would do him some good, but his thoughts were as raw as ever.

If he had the energy for it, or maybe someone to tell, Leo would've joked about it. But his dramatics were never entertaining in his own head, and they weren't meant for him, anyway.

He tipped his head down and sighed out a breath. Cold rivulets cascaded down his face, tracing his jawline. They fell to his lap in scattered droplets, refracting the city lights as they rebounded.

He was starting to get a bit too cold for comfort. They weren't fully cold-blooded, seeing as they were part human, but they were still susceptible to temperature changes, especially Leo.

He didn't want to deal with a cold on top of everything else.

Leo gathered himself, shifting into a crouch. His body protested as he came to a standing position, retrieving his katanas from where he'd set them.

His bandana was soaked, say nothing of his bandages. He'd need to change them before his brothers awoke. He'd better dry off his katanas, too-- he didn't know if mystic weapons could rust, but he'd rather not find out.

Retreating away from the edge of the roof, Leo could feel his heartbeat start to settle. Heights didn't bother him, exactly. It was more about potential. Sitting on a precipice, seconds away from what could be your last breath.

It was the ultimate test of arrogance. Would you really test your luck, lean over the edge to catch a glimpse of what lay below? Just a cursory misstep and you would be sent plummeting, with only moments to contemplate before you were crushed against concrete.

Adrenaline was an effective tool for alleviating the worst of the pain. It probably wasn't a healthy practice, but what worked, worked.

Summoning his ninpō, Leo slashed a katana through the air, flinging rainwater with the sweep of his blade. The air rippled, a pool of blue reflecting in the puddle beneath him.

With barely so much as a thought to serve as a directive, the connection stabilized, pulling at his gut. Leo stepped through, shutting the gate behind him.

He emerged in their bathroom, water dripping off his disheveled form to the floor. Glancing up at the clock, he frowned. Had it really been three hours?

Leo set his katanas on the counter and foraged through the cabinet for a towel. He discarded the first two he grabbed on account of their worn texture, tossing them to the ground behind him.

His fingers closed around plush, white material, and Leo pulled out a newer-looking towel. It would do nicely.

He set to work drying his katanas with fastidious motions, guiding the towel into the crevasses where excess rainwater might accumulate. He dried his first katana once, and then a second time, before doing the same to the other.

When he was satisfied, he turned back to the cabinet and rifled through it, looking for a first aid kit. He'd had Casey restock recently, given how much of their supply had been damaged in the Kraang invasion. He didn't remember if anyone had put them away-- they might still be on the kitchen counter, for all he knew.

Leo gave up, nudging the cabinet shut, and carried his katanas to his room. His body was really starting to hurt again. He perched on the edge of his bed, tensing the muscles in his body.

He let his eyes flutter shut. His body felt washed out and faded like an old t-shirt, washed one too many times. Maybe he should just try and rest while he could, before the pain returned in full.

But the medic in him eschewed the idea. Not to mention, his brothers would kill him if he risked infection by something so careless.

Heaving a sigh, Leo abandoned his bedroom, making his way to the train car that housed their kitchen. To his surprise (and wariness), the lights were on, curtains drawn.

Had Mikey forgotten to turn off the light? That wasn't like him.

(Which meant he probably hadn't.)

Leo procrastinated by the entrance, killing time locked in an internal dialogue. Somebody else was up, or had been. Most likely scenario, it was Casey, being a light sleeper.

He was also the only person that knew about Leo's midnight escapades. He'd confessed that knowing Leo was gone set him on edge. Often, Leo would return to find him sitting in his room, eyes on a distant memory.

Shaking off his indecision, Leo pulled himself up into the car, grimacing at the jolt of pain that ran up his shell. He stepped inside and froze, stomach dropping to his knees.

Donnie sat on a stool at the counter, thumbs flicking over his phone screen. An empty bowl and spoon sat in front of him on the otherwise clean surface, evidence of a midnight meal. There was a cutting board in the sink and a stockpot on the cooktop.

Donnie looked up from his phone, eyebrows slightly smudged. They knit together in confusion as he took in Leo's waterlogged state.

Leo shifted his weight. "I didn't know you were up."

Donnie raised an eyebrow. "Went for a midnight swim?" he deadpanned.

Leo moved past him, toward the opposite counter. "Something like that," he mumbled. He withdrew one of the first aid kits from a plastic grocery bag stowed on top of the fridge.

His thigh dissented, muscles contracting, and he gasped. He bent over, resting his forehead on the fridge, eyes squeezed shut.

A stool creaked, sliding back. "Leo?"

Leo gritted his teeth. A bead of water slid down his face and fell from his chin like a teardrop.

"Just sore," he groaned. "I'm fine."

He could feel Donnie's presence as he approached. He stopped a few feet behind where Leo was standing, back bowed.

"You don't look fine," he pointed out.

Leo hadn't "looked fine" since the prison dimension. He choked on a laugh at the thought, unable to smother it. He couldn't see Donnie's face, but he could imagine the expression it displayed with ease.

The tension between them grew. When was the last time Leo had talked one-on-one with his twin? He didn't remember it ever being this awkward.

The cramp in his leg let up a little. Leo gingerly placed it on the ground, testing his weight. The sooner he could get out of this situation, the better.

"I should go," Leo said finally, straightening. He turned. Donnie's arms were crossed over his plastron, examining him with narrowed eyes. Leo stepped around him, gaze avoidant.

He got halfway across the kitchen before Donnie spoke.

"How long were you out?" Donnie asked. "Your bandages are soaked."

Leo recognized the trap laid out in his brothers' casual demeanor.

"Not long," he replied, matching Donnie's tone. "Just needed some air."

"Hm, is that so? Because I've been up since midnight, and it's now--" He checked his com band. "--two thirteen, so unless you magically gained the ability to be quiet, I'm not sure your story holds water."

Leo resisted the urge to make a pun. "Hey, I can be quiet!" he protested.

His brothers (somehow) hadn't realized just how accurate Leo's ninpō had gotten in the previous months. He would prefer it stayed that way. (Raph definitely wouldn't be too happy to find out how much time Leo spent overlooking foreign cityscapes instead of sleeping.)

"Don't change the subject, Leo, I know what you're doing." Donnie placed his hands on his hips. (Did mutant turtles have hips?)

Leo held his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Fine." Prime example of a battle he refused to pick. "I lost track of time, sue me."

Donnie blew out a breath, and Leo knew they were entering safer waters. Works every time, he thought.

"Just tell me you didn't go far?" Donnie asked wearily. "Raph would freak."

"I didn't," Leo assured him. It wasn't a lie-- compared to his usual destinations, his trip to downtown New York was a novelty. "You aren't going to tell him, are you?"

Donnie hesitated. Leo's expression grew shuttered.

"No," he sighed. "Just-- next time you go out, could you at least leave a note or something? That way, if you get kidnapped by pirates again, we'll know where to look?"

"That was one time," Leo argued. Donnie sent him The Look™. "...Okay, two times, but can you really blame me?"

"Yes." Donnie stated the word without hesitation.

Leo hid a smile. It was easy, falling back into their familiar banter. He had missed this.

His legs gave a throb of pain and he winced. "I should go," he said reluctantly.

Donnie blinked, caught off guard. His gaze took on a hint of concern. "Oh. Uh. Right." He shifted uncomfortably. "Here. Do you... I can carry that for you." He gestured at the first aid kit.

Leo wanted to refuse, but he'd officially run out of luck. At that moment, his legs gave out beneath him. He crumpled, carapace smarting at the sudden movement.

"Leo!" Donnie knelt next to him, eyes dark with worry. "Are you okay? What's happening?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," he groaned out. His leg gave a traitorous pulse, and he yelped.

Donnie stood. "I'm getting Raph," he decided.

"No!" Leo cried. "Honestly, Tello, I'm fine."

"Is that why you're laying on the kitchen floor?"

Leo swatted weakly at Donnie's calf. "No," he groaned. "It's just... the rain. Makes all my scars ache, and stuff."

"Oh," Donnie said. He returned to a kneel. "I... didn't think of that."

"'S fine," Leo grumbled. "Just need to re-wrap my bandages." Something he was not looking forward to.

His muscles slowly untensed, leaving a dull ache of pain in their wake. He let out a miserable sigh, closing his eyes.

In a moment, he'd need to get up and make his way to the bathroom. Though, he could probably get away with a few more minutes on the floor. Donnie had seen him through worse.

To his surprise, he could feel an arm slipping under his shoulders, helping him up. He cracked open an eye to see Donnie on his left side, bracing his arm on the wall as he helped pull Leo to his feet.

"Okay, come on," he groaned. "Let's get you to the bathroom before you forget how to walk again."

"Ugh, rude," Leo said, accepting his support. "You'd say that to an injured man? I'm on the cusp of death here, Dee."

"I'd say that to a dead man."

"What, was that a threat?"

"No, but it can be."

Leo snorted, then winced as they made their way down the steps. Donnie was careful, but not smothering, letting Leo lead. They limped their way to the bathroom, where Donnie set him down on a stool, flicking on the light.

"Thanks for leaving fucking puddles everywhere," Donnie said, lifting up his foot and shaking it. "Did you really not dry yourself off at all?"

"I dried my off my katanas," Leo defended. Donnie rolled his eyes and mumbled something beneath his breath. He turned and began rifling through the cabinet for a towel.

"Just use one off the floor," Leo said, kicking at the towels he'd discarded earlier.

"Those ones are shit," Donnie said, emerging triumphant with a fluffy, dark purple towel he must have hidden somewhere in the back. "Do you really want a sad, dirty floor rag? Not that it wouldn't fit you, but..."

Leo snorted, hiding a grin in the back of his hand. Donnie leaned over and swaddled him in the towel, wiping off his plastron with quick motions.

"What are you, some kind of towel elitist?" He leaned away, grabbing the towel for himself and pulling over his carapace. "smh, can't believe you were holding out on me." He rubbed his hand over the plush fabric. "I might be stealing this."

"Did you just say 'smh' out loud?" Donnie asked. "And absolutely not, I will destroy you."

"Then you gotta tell me who your dealer is, at least." Leo buried his face in the cushy material. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled. "This is exactly the kind of wasteful bullshit I need in my life."

"Frivolous luxury would suit you," Donnie mused.

Leo simpered up at him. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Do you even know what that word means? And don't fucking simper at me."

Leo simpered even harder.

Donnie grabbed one of the towels from the floor and threw it at him. Leo raised his hands with a laugh, shielding his face.

Donnie snatched his purple towel back. "Shh! You're gonna wake the others."

"I'm not the one who decided to commit a hate crime." Leo took off his mask and placed it on the sink.

"I threw a towel at you," Donnie deadpanned. "How is that a hate crime?"

"Because you were being mean to me." Leo wore his best pout.

"That's not a hate crime."

"It is if you hate me."

"I don't think you know what that word means, either." Donnie opened the first aid kit, setting it on the sink. "Okay, sit tight."

Leo stuck his tongue out, but kept quiet as Donnie leaned over him, inspecting his bandages. Neither of them spoke as Donnie took one in hand and carefully began to peel it off. He grimaced as it exposed the puckered scar beneath, gently dabbing it with a clean pad of gauze.

Leo didn't bother to wince at the soft prick of pain. It was so minuscule compared to everything else he'd gone through.

The thought was a depressing one, draining the small amount of humor he'd managed to recover out of his chest. He slumped a little, studying the floor.

Donnie seemed to notice the change. He paused for a minute, thinking. Leo could nearly hear the gears in his brain turning as he puzzled out what to say.

"...I hope the rain stops soon," he finally settled on, cautious.

"Yeah," Leo sighed. He glanced at the wall, his jaw working. "I used to like the rain."

"Yeah? Oh, that's right," Donnie remembered. "You would always beg papa to take you up to the surface when it rained. And then Raph."

Leo nodded mutely, turning his thoughts over in his head.

"Its... I just..." Leo glared at the wall. "It makes me angry."

Donnie replaced one of his bandages with a new one and started re-wrapping his shoulder. "The rain?"

A sudden wave of emotion rose in him, and Leo's hands clenched. "No. The Kraang. That they-- that they took that from me." He glared at the floor willing his mouth to not wobble. Damn it.

Donnie didn't speak, but he rested his free hand on Leo's shoulder.

"It's just-- it's so stupid." Leo tried for a bitter laugh, but it came out wetter than he'd intended. He sniffed, trying to get a hold of himself.

"It's just fucking rain. But it's like-- every time it rains, I'm not gonna be thinking about how much I like it, or drag you guys out to stand in it. 'Cuz all I'm gonna be thinking about it the stupid fucking Kraang."

Donnie had gone still, but his hand remained on Leo's shoulder, a silent show of support.

Leo swiped a hand over his face. "And it's stupid, because-- we got rid of them! The Kraang are supposed to be gone, or whatever." His voice broke on the word 'gone,' but he persisted.

"But they're still here. Everywhere I go in the city, I'm reminded of them. They're like... a shadow, or something, looming over me. All the things I like, they've infected." He barked out a wet laugh.

"I mean, did you know the reason I gifted all my Jupiter Jim comics to Mikey is that I can't read them without thinking about the Kraang? And it's-- so stupid because I love Jupiter Jim. But now I can't even watch our favorite movies, because every time it feels like a punch to the throat!"

Leo was about to cry, something he really didn't want to do right now. He took a tremulous breath. "I mean-- isn't that stupid? I know it's stupid." He let out a shaky laugh.

"...I don't think it's stupid," Donnie offered quietly. He returned to his previous task of changing Leo's bandages. "I think it makes perfect logical sense. We went through something traumatic. Of course it's going to affect us negatively."

Leo laughed, sharp and bitter. "Yeah." He glared at the floor.

It was quiet for a long moment.

"I get it."

Leo looked up, confused. "What?"

Donnie worried at the edge of his mouth, intent on his task. "Do you remember when I took control of the Technodrome?"

Leo swiped a hand across his face. Guilt twinged in his abdomen. "Mhm."

"In order to create a connection, it had to--" Donnie cut himself off. "Um. It had to. Physically connect to me."

Leo froze. "Like... how?"

Donnie tapped a repeating pattern on the edge of his shell, before reaching for the medical tape. "It was... through my shell."

"Oh." Leo said. Then, "Oh."

"Yeah," Donnie sighed.

Leo scuffed his feet on the floor. "Shit, Dee, I'm s--"

Donnie flicked him firmly on the forehead. "Don't."

"Hey!" Leo cried, rubbing at the spot.

"If you're gonna apologize, apologize for something that was actually your fault." The words were spoken with the tone of one who is used to speaking them. "And anyway, it was my choice."

"You wouldn't have needed to choose it if--"

"Nardo, oh my god, I will smack you." Donnie pulled back. "I am trying to empathize with you here, why are you making this so hard?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Leo mumbled.

Donnie sighed. "It's-- well, it's not fine, but. It's a topic for another time."

Leo nodded.

"As I was saying," Donnie continued, "It was not the most pleasant experience, going into it. And-- well, I didn't particularly enjoy the hasty removal, either.

"But... I didn't mind it, being in there. It's just... it made me realize how much I'm missing. How weak I am, with my shell." Donnie rubbed an absentminded hand over the strap of his battle shell. "Sometimes I'll wake up, and I'll..." His voice dipped into a whisper. "I'll miss it."

He paused as if waiting for Leo to react. Perhaps with disgust, or anger. Leo did neither, covering Donnie's hand on his shell with his own.

"I know it's not a perfect correlation, but. It makes me... feel. Emotions. Things I don't like." Donnie rummaged around in the kit for another piece of gauze. "And I just. It's. Ugh."

"'Ugh.'" Leo agreed. "That's a pretty good word for it."

Donnie scowled at him.

"I'm being serious!"

"Ok, enough being nice to you," Donnie announced. "I'm leaving. Suffer."

"But Dee," Leo whined, dragging out the 'e'. "You didn't finish wrapping my shell."

"Urgh, fine." Donnie rolled his eyes. Leo resisted a smile, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't have actually left.

They lapsed into silence again. Far above, Leo could hear the rain slowing, the downpour giving way.

Donnie finished wrapping his shell. He pulled back, considering. There was an edge of hesitation to his expression. Leo knew that look.

“What’re you—”

Donnie leaned down and pulled him into a hug.

Leo tensed for a moment, caught off guard.

Donnie was very particular about touch. He didn’t like casual touch, unless he was the one to initiate it. That, plus with the invasion, had made him even touchier about it than usual. Well, less touchier.

When was the last time they’d just. Hung out? Slung an arm over the others’s shoulder?

Leo closed his eyes and let out a shuddery sigh. He melted into the embrace. God, he was tired.

Donnie pulled back. He placed a hand on the back of his neck, mouth hanging open as if he’d had something to say, but had forgotten it.

“You’re bandages are done,” he said finally.

Leo glanced down. “Oh. Thank you.”

Donnie nodded stiffly, and backed off. “We should turn the lights off before anybody else wakes up.”

Leo nodded in agreement. He was surprised Casey hadn’t woken yet. He made to stand, the full-body ache in his limbs intensifying. His feet landed in a puddle of water.

"Hold on, I have to clean the water off the floor," Leo said, reaching for a towel. Donnie intercepted him.

"I will clean it up," he contended. "It's time for you to get to bed."

"Don't act like your sleep schedule is any better than mine," Leo returned, but silently, he was grateful.

Donnie switched the lights off behind them and walked with Leo to his train car. It wasn't necessary by any means, but Leo didn't mind. The sick, weary feeling in his gut had been replaced by something warm and safe.

He paused at the steps to his train car, turning back. "I think I can go to bed by myself," he joked.

"After tonight, I truly doubt that," Donnie said drily, but Leo could hear a hint of fatigue in his voice. No doubt he was bone-tired.

Leo shuffled his feet. "Um, sorry. I didn't mean to keep you up."

Donnie stared at him, letting the silence stagnate long enough for Leo to remember their earlier conversation.

"Please go to bed," he said finally, exasperated.

"If I must," Leo sighed, putting on an air of melodrama.

"You must," Donnie deadpanned. Leo stuck his tongue at him again.

With little fanfare, Donnie turned and began to walk away. Leo watched him go, mentally preparing himself for the strain of getting up the steps into his train car.

“Oh, hey, and Leo?” Donnie looked back.

Leo frowned in confusion. “What?”

Donnie smirked at him. “I changed my mind. I’m not cleaning the floor.”

Leo gasped, adopting a scandalized expression. “Liar! How could you?”

Donnie smiled evilly and disappeared up the steps into his train car.

Leo went to bed smiling.

In the morning, he checked the bathroom floor and found that it was clean.

#...would you believe me if i said this was supposed to be short?#ignore me sneaking my headcanons in there #and thank you for the ask!!#hang tight i am working on another “drabble” as well (: it should be (hopefully) shorter than this one #tho idk when i'll post it given my regular chapter writing #long post #tw long post #rottmnt #rottmnt drabbles #writing #my writing #hurt/comfort #disaster twins #confessionals #no t-cest #was feeling very contemplative with this one so that's why my writing is all pretentious in some spots haha #also ignore any mistakes i just kinda glanced over it before i sent it out #yeah i know low-hanging fruit everybody and their sister has written insomnia disaster twins #but *I* havent so. im filling my legal obligation #sorry this took a while btw #i wanted to put more platonic cuddling in there but it just didn’t fit into the flow of the story i was setting up #so i hope you’ll forgive me for that /lh /nsrs

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