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sidekick-hero · 3 months

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Carry you

When Eddie opens his eyes, he has no idea where he is.

That should probably scare him, but the only thing he can think in that moment between blissful nothingness and cold, hard reality is "the bathroom at the party looked different." Because he is in a bathroom, that much he can say. There are white tiles everywhere and a roll of toilet paper in front of him and... is that a plastic handrail?

Lifting his head is a Herculean effort, but somehow he manages to do it, even though it makes his stomach turn.

In front of him is a freestanding shower and a bathtub with stairs to get into. The bathroom is huge and sterile, smelling of disinfectant.

As more and more of his senses come back online, Eddie notices several things at once:

#1 He's wearing what can barely be called a gown, cold air hitting his exposed skin everywhere. His back, his legs, hell, even his junk gets more of a breeze than he likes.

#2 He's nauseous, his stomach rolls uncomfortably, and his head is killing him, a sharp pain that's increasing in intensity by the second.

#3 He knows that something is definitely very, very wrong and he can feel the anxiety rising like bile in his throat.

It's that last realization that triggers his fight or flight response and in seconds he's off the toilet he's sitting on, the sudden movement sending him stumbling, his legs wobbling and his head spinning. Everything hurts and he feels so weak. He catches himself on the railing next to the toilet and figures that's what it's there for. Although he has no idea what kind of person would have such a strange bathroom. The last one he was in, at Tim's or Tom's or Terry's party, something with a T, for sure, the tiles had been black and there had been a lot of bamboo furniture and gold accents. It had smelled nice too, vanilla and cinnamon.

He staggers to a door that hopefully leads out of this fucking nightmare. Maybe Gareth or Freak are behind this, to teach Eddie a lesson for ditching them again to go partying when they had to pack up their shit after the show. But not Jeff, he's too nice to do something like that. The next morning, when Eddie arrives with a hangover the size of his ego, to quote Gareth, Jeff will only look at him with disappointment.

Or maybe they just don't care enough about him anymore to pull a prank on him. Eddie can't remember the last time they even talked to him, beyond discussing the bare minimum for their shows.

Leaving the bathroom, he carefully walks down a long hallway with the ugliest yellow linoleum Eddie has ever seen. It hurts his eyes and his stomach gives another unpleasant churning. On his right, he sees a glass door with "Intermediate Care Unit" written in big white letters.

What the fuck?

He turns right and continues down the hall, hoping to find someone who can tell him where he is and why his body feels like it's been hit with a sledgehammer. Repeatedly.

"Mr. Munson, you shouldn't be out of bed," a stern voice calls from behind him, and when he turns around he sees a middle-aged woman in white scrubs looking at him with a stern expression on her face.

Feeling more and more like he has landed in an episode of The Twilight Zone, Eddie looks at her with an incredulous look on his face. "Who are you? And where is everyone?"

She scoffs at his answer, clearly not pleased.

"I am the nurse responsible for getting you well enough to leave this ward as soon as possible, and you would make my job a lot easier if you would go back to your bed." Before he can process the meaning of her words, she continues. "As for everyone else, well, no one else overdosed, so I would assume they're all home by now."

Eddie can only stare at her open-mouthed, disbelief and horror probably written all over his face, because her own face is softening slightly.

"Now come on, let's get you back to bed, you really shouldn't be wandering around."

She gently takes his elbow and leads him to a door with the number 719 on it. As she opens it for him, Eddie sees three beds inside. To the left and right, he sees two old men, both looking directly at him. The one on the right says, "We tried to stop him, Nurse Elli, we really did," in a high, nasal voice that is already getting on Eddie's nerves. "The kid wouldn't listen to us, would he, Harry?"

"Exactly," Harry answered, at least in a deeper, more bearable tone.

Ignoring the geriatric Ernie and Bert, Nurse Elli leads him to the bed in the middle and helps him to lie down again. Only then does Eddie remember that all he's wearing is a thin hospital gown with an open back. Well, he thinks, Nurse Elli has seen worse in her profession than his pale, scrawny ass. Besides, it's not like much of his modesty has survived the last two years of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll that have been his life.

By the time he's back under the covers, his nurse has turned around and is walking back over to the door. A bone-deep exhaustion has begun to seep into his body, slowly dragging him back under, but seeing her walk out of the room gives him a burst of energy.

"Wait! Someone needs to tell me what happened. What am I doing here?"

Embarrassment burns hot under his skin as he hears the tears in his voice, but the sound of it breaking at his question makes Nurse Elli stop. She turns back to him and her eyes are much kinder than before.

"The doctor will be with you shortly. He'll explain everything to you, Mr. Munson. I'll let him know you're awake now."

And then she leaves, and Eddie sinks back into his bed in the hope that the next time he opens his eyes, it will all have been just a bad dream.

It was not all just a bad dream.

The next time Eddie comes to, he's alone in his room, except for a middle-aged man who seems to be the doctor Nurse Elli told him would be stopping by.

Doctor Owens explains that he overdosed on alcohol and coke at a party at some music producer's house and had been in a coma for two full days. They quickly stabilized him, pumped his stomach and gave him fluids through an IV. Eddie is lucky he's still young and his system recovered from the shock quite well. When he showed signs of waking up, they brought him down here from the ICU to free up his bed for someone who needed it more.

"If Mr. Harrington hadn't called 911 and told them to come get you, you'd be dead right now, Mr. Munson. I'm sorry to say this, but from what I've heard, no one at the party even cared, just insisted that you brought your own drugs and they had nothing to do with it. Mr. Harrington has also been your only visitor so far."

His words should make him angry or sad, something, but he can't process them. Not when his brain is still struggling to make sense of the first part of his statement, Eddie’s heart racing in his chest.

"Mr. Harrington? As in..."

"Steve Harrington, he says he's a close friend. He's the one who called the ambulance, gave the operator your cell phone number so they could track your phone and get you to the hospital. He's been visiting you every day since. He also called your uncle, because we are not allowed to give out any medical information to anyone outside of the family. Your uncle should be here soon, I called him yesterday to give him an update on your condition."

His mind is reeling, too many thoughts fighting for dominance and one word screaming louder than any of them in his head.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

How... it couldn't be. Not after their last fight. Not after the things he said to Steve. To his horror, he feels tears burning hot in his eyes at the memory. A memory he had pushed as far back in his mind as he could because every time he thought about that night he wanted to curl up into a fetal position and cry.

"You are a lucky man, Mr. Munson. This man seems to care a lot about you, as does your uncle. You should let them help you. And if you will allow me to be very clear with you: You need all the help you can get. You're young, so your body can take a lot. But it's not in good shape. You have an old man's liver, and your spleen and kidneys are showing signs of the abuse you put them through. The echo also showed some irregularities in your heartbeat. If you continue down the path you're on, your organs will fail and you will die, Mr. Munson. Painfully. So my advice to you is to get clean as soon as possible. We have some facilities we work with, a nurse will bring you some brochures."

Eddie could only nod numbly, tears now falling freely from his eyes, his throat tight and his head aching. Everything hurt. Especially his heart.

"Okay, we'll keep you here for two more days until we're sure you're stable enough to be on your own." Doctor Owens tells him, turning to leave and get on with his day, as if he hadn't just dropped a damn bomb on his head. He pauses at the door and turns back to him.

"And a word of advice from someone twice your age who's seen a lot in his time here: stick with people who really care about you, like Mr. Harrington, instead of spending your time with people who leave you lying in a bathroom in your own vomit."

With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts.

Eddie doesn't know how long it's been since Dr. Owens left. It could have been hours, days, weeks, for all he knows, too deep inside his own head to spare any thought for the passing of time. Lying in a hospital bed, the nausea and pain raging through his battered body, Eddie finally breaks down and lets the thoughts come.

He's lost in his memories, thinking about everything that led him here, alone and in pain in a hospital bed, after nearly killing himself with things he swore he'd never use. Weed was fine, though he didn't indulge much anyway, preferring to sell it and make some much-needed money than to smoke it himself. But coke? Nah, he knew how epically stupid it would be to even try that shit.

And yet he did.

A party to celebrate the release of their first single. One lapse in judgment while flying so fucking high that nothing could touch him. One bad decision was all it took for him to succumb to the effects of the white powder.

The high he felt after snorting his first line had been magical and he's been chasing that feeling ever since, blind to all he's sacrificed in the process.

It changed him, he knows. Every euphoric high that made him talk a mile a minute, overly affectionate, loud and brash and in love with the whole world would inevitably end in a crash. He became irritable and hostile toward the people he loved, thinking they were out to get him. Whenever his friends or Wayne or Steve so much as looked at him the wrong way about his new habit, he would lash out at them.

He became increasingly angry and accused them of trying to control him, of envying him his success and happiness.

That's when he started drinking, too. He drank himself stupid so that he wouldn't have to think about the way Steve was starting to look at him as if he didn't even know him anymore. To forget the sad look in Wayne's eyes or the way his friends had started to avoid him. When he was drunk out of his mind, he could forget the way the Coffin boys had started talking about him behind his back, could ignore the murderous looks Robin kept sending his way.

Thinking back, Eddie felt like everything had spun out of his control so fast.

It's like one day he comes home to Steve, ecstatic about signing their first record deal and celebrating the start of a new chapter with the love of his life by dancing around their living room barefoot, laughing and kissing each other, promising happiness and forever.

Only to throw that love right back in Steve's face the next day by calling him needy, clingy, and full of bullshit.

He claimed that Steve was holding him back and that Steve didn't love him, that he just didn't want to be alone. He also said that Steve still thought he was better than Eddie, better than the town freak, the fuck-up, the trailer trash.

You don't want me to succeed and finally step out of your perfect shadow, because then what would stop me from leaving you, right?

Eddie regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Secretly, he had always feared that his success would cause a rift in his relationship with Steve. Eddie had no desire to leave Steve, because Steve was still the best goddamn thing that ever happened to him, but he couldn't help but feel that he was losing him anyway. Even more so when he had seen Steve's face crumble, when he had seen the exact moment when his heart had broken into a million pieces.

He had wanted to take Steve in his arms and apologize for saying cruel things he didn't even believe. It had been his own insecurities that had caused him to lash out, and he had hurt Steve before he had a chance to be hurt himself.

Instead, in true Munson fashion, he had run away and hasn't seen or heard from Steve in six long months that have felt like years.

Steve looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time Eddie saw him.

That's not a good thing, though. Because Steve had been driving himself crazy with worry about Eddie for months before Eddie had taken Steve's heart and torn it apart right in front of him.

Back then he had the same dark circles under his eyes that he has now. The usually golden skin is still too pale and Steve's trademark hair looks even more disheveled from how often he's run his hands through it. His well-fitting jeans, which once hugged his ass just right, now sit baggy on his too-slim frame and Eddie hates it.

He hates that Eddie could still hurt Steve even after he left. That even from a distance he managed to ruin the only person who ever really loved him besides Wayne. There should be some kind of warning sign on him: Beware, do not get attached, will hurt you.

"You're awake," are the first words out of Steve's mouth, and despite everything, Eddie can't stop his heart from responding to the sound of his sweet voice. Steve sounds tired, weary, but to Eddie's ears his voice is better than any Metallica song could ever be.

He tries to smile at him, but he feels as tired as Steve sounds, so it lacks the usual spark.

"Sure am. From what I heard, I have you to thank for that," Eddie adds, unable to help himself. He still doesn't know why and especially how Steve knew he needed help. If this were a Nicholas Sparks novel, their love would have created an invisible bond that made Steve feel when Eddie needed help.

But this is real life, and no matter how much he loves Steve, there is no invisible bond holding them together. Just an unbridgeable chasm.

Steve is still hovering at the door and Eddie thinks he is fighting the urge to wring his hands. Eddie knows his tells by now and he figures Steve isn't sure he's welcome here. Which is ridiculous, because even at his worst, Eddie will always want Steve around, no matter what crap Eddie tells him.

It takes a lot of effort, but Eddie manages to sit up and lean out of bed to pat the chair next to his bed, his eyes never leaving Steve.

Eddie sees Steve's shoulders slump, some of the tension visibly draining from his body at the gesture, and Steve walks over to him and sits down tentatively.

"So..." Eddie begins, dragging out the 'o'. "What happened?"

Steve looks up from his hands in his lap, obviously surprised by the question. "You don't remember?"

"No. The last thing I remember is sitting on a leather couch with a bunch of people I don't know and don't care about, fooling myself into thinking I was having fun." Eddie has had plenty of time to think about his life and where he went wrong, so he decides to stick with honesty. Steve deserves as much and more. "Someone handed me a bottle of whiskey and I opened it and started drinking straight from the bottle. That's the last thing I remember. The next thing I know, I wake up in an ugly bathroom that smells like disinfectant, my whole body hurts like I've been hit by a train, and I have no idea where I am."

Before he can bring himself to say the next part, it's Eddie who has to look away, his eyes focused on his hands playing with the edge of the blanket.

"They told me it was you who called 911 and helped them find me. They said without you I would have died lying in my own vomit." He swallows audibly, tears burning in his eyes, wondering how he could have cried more in the last ten hours than in the last ten years. "They also said you were the only one who came to see me."

Eddie forces himself to look up and into Steve's eyes as he says, "Thank you, Steve. You didn't... I don't deserve you doing this. Not after..." The words die in his throat and he feels like he's choking on them.

He can't do this. He's a fucking coward, not worth saving. Not even worth looking at someone as good and beautiful as Steve.

There's a crease between Steve's eyebrows that Eddie used to smooth with his thumb and lips every time he saw it, and his fingers itch to do it again.

"You called me," Steve tells him, his own hands playing with the edge of Eddie's blanket. "At the party. You called me from the bathroom. I thought it was a butt call or maybe drunk dialing, I hadn't heard from you in months, Eddie."

Eddie winces at his words, but Steve chooses to ignore it.

"But then you sounded so small on the phone. You called me 'Stevie' and 'sweetheart' and then you started to cry." Steve looks like he's about to cry, too. His eyes are glassy and Eddie gets lost in the way the light breaks in them, gold and brown and green all mixed together.

"You told me you weren't feeling so good, that your stomach hurt and the room was spinning so you had to lie down. Your voice -" And here Steve's own voice breaks, after it had already started to shake badly, and without thinking Eddie grabs Steve's hand and holds it tight.

"I'm here, Stevie. You saved me. I'm okay."

"But you almost weren't!" Steve insists, his voice rising, and Eddie finally understands the depth of Steve's feelings. After all these months, after everything Eddie had said and done, Steve still cared deeply for him.

"You talked like you were dying, Eddie. You weren't drunk dialing, you were calling to say goodbye, asshole. You were telling me all these things that I needed to hear you say for months. But I wanted to hear them with you in the room so I could punch you in the face and then kiss it better. Not like this. Not as your last words over a fucking phone call."

That's when Steve breaks down, the tears finally overflowing and he buries his face on the bed at Eddie's hip, their joined hands pressed against his wet cheek.

"Baby," Eddie whispers, shocked, his own heart aching worse than ever as he begins to run his fingers through Steve's messy hair. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm so, so sorry, Stevie. I never meant to hurt you, but it seems like that's all I did."

Taking a deep breath, Eddie continues. "I don't know what I told you on the phone, but since I woke up I've had time to think about it all. I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Or to Wayne and the kids, Gareth and Jeff and Grant. If I will ever deserve your forgiveness, but I want to try. I want to deserve it one day. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but... I will go to rehab. I will quit drugs and alcohol, I will clean up my act. And then, if you let me, I will try to make it up to you every single day for the rest of our lives."

Steve slowly lifts his head from the bed and looks at him, searching Eddie's eyes for something.

"Why?" Steve asks, his hand gripping Eddie's even tighter.

There are so many reasons, so many things Eddie wants to say, but in the end there is only one simple answer.

"Because I love you."

The smile on Steve's face tells him it's the right answer, even more so when Steve presses a kiss into his palm. But then he turns serious once more.

"I haven't forgiven you yet, Eddie. You hurt me too much and I need time. But I need you to stop trying to run away from me. I don't want you to go to rehab and clean yourself up before you come back to me. I want to be with you every step of the way. Do it together. Because if you love me, you have to let me take care of you. You have to let me in, Eddie. Let me carry you for once, like Sam carried Frodo when he couldn't go on. Trust me not to let you fall. Please."

"Did you really just make a reference to Lord of the Rings?" Eddie demands and Steve rolls his eyes.

"Is that what you get from everything I just said?"

Eddie sobers up immediately. "No, it just made me fall a little bit more in love with you, and I didn't think that was possible."

"So what do you say?" Steve asks, chewing his lip between his teeth, and Eddie suspects he's not even breathing.

"It's going to suck, Stevie," Eddie says in a quiet voice, stroking Steve's knuckles with his thumb."Are you sure?"

"Yes." No hesitation, no wavering in his voice. It's the same tone, the same determined look on his face as when he told Eddie "Fuck'em," when Eddie told him people in their small-minded town would talk if Steve held his hand in public.

"There's a bunch of brochures of places to check out. Wanna help me pick the least horrible one?" Eddie says, pointing to the table in the corner of the room.

Without another word, Steve gets up to grab them, and for the first time in a long time, Eddie allows himself to hope.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #rockstar eddie munson #cw drugs #steddielovemonth #day 1 #love is letting someone take care of you #my writing

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months

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So how much are you willing to talk about Ulquiorra?

I will talk so much about him. There are so many things wrong with that man, but to make a brief list of his most notable features:

He's dumb as hell.

I say that with tremendous sympathetic affection. Ulquiorra barely thinks. It's easy for him to do nothing and go nowhere. He eats chocolate in the middle of the night in the dark. When he gets access to a garden, he often just stands around in it. He's often waiting for things to happen.

He just LOOKS smart compared to nearly everyone else in the fic because he doesn't have much to say, so he's not constantly opening his mouth to jam his foot down it.

Consequently, Ulquiorra starts off having little to no initiative of his own. Stuff just happens to him. Some of that is because he is colossally depressed, but he's depressed because the idea that he has control over his circumstances has straight up not occured to him.

The first person he meets that shows him that "You can just do whatever you want, forever" and the boundless joy it is to be a creature of free will is, unfortunately, Aizen. And Aizen left off the key corollary "-EVERYONE is allowed to do whatever they want, forever. We are all equal in God's dead, empty eye sockets."

So Ulquiorra wanders around trying out this "doing stuff" thing without any concept of ethics.

I realize I am infantilizing this character, but I am doing so in a twilight zone "hey, wouldn't it be fucked up to watch a fully anatomically functional person who is able to speak and blow stuff up with his mind go through the emotional development steps of a toddler?", because I think that's a fun high-concept premise to explore with him. Yeah, what if a toddler could speak articulately and also destroy you? How would he act? How does he feel, learning to have feelings?

It'd probably suck for him and everyone around him, and make him very easy to manipulate, for one thing.

So I don't think Ulquiorra is evil, because evil takes intent. He is dangerous to be in the general proximity of, though

Like a horse

lose

in a hospital!

I love that sketch as much as the next person but if an IRL horse got loose in a hospital it would be bedlam, but the horse would be mostly confused and probably willing to follow around the first person who looked like they knew what they were doing.

You know, like how Ulquiorra follows Aizen around because that's the first guy he's met who THINKS he knows what he's doing, and is good at convincing others he knows what he's doing!

So Ulquiorra's entire first character arc is being exposed to more and more people and realizing he does have control over his life, and that he can take actions, and that those actions have consequences.

Like being emotionally devastated by a teenage girl because he was an asshole to her and she's willing to scream at him about it.

Hm.

Consequences hurt.

He lives through the Las Noches arc, and decides to follow his own star!

He follows it right through a portal that was not meant for him and now he's sort of trapped in somewhere he's really, really, really, really, REALLY not supposed to be.

But it's a beautiful place

And nobody is forcing him to do anything.

And for a long time, he just stands out in the garden, waiting for something.

But then

Ulquiorra experiences a novel pair of emotions that he's recently learned from his new...

Orihime is too mad at him for him to call her a friend.

-but he did learn the names and therefore the experience of two new emotions from her: boredom, and it's natural remedy: curiosity.

So Ulquiorra's second character arc is him learning how to be himself without anyone telling him who he is and what he ought to be.

He's travelling up Maslow's hierarchy with the inscrutable but unstoppable instinctual drive of a salmon returning to its spawning ground.

This has lead to an important discovery on my part: Ulquiorra is terrific for comedy because he is the ULTIMATE straight man to everyone else's nonsense, because he's immune to nearly all nonsense.

He doesn't have societal taboos to be hung up on, nor any sense of what is "normal", so the sole thing he geta hung up on is a lack of internal consistency in others, meaning he can slip between straight man to the absurdist at the drop of a single scathing observation. Yet, he retains a sort of understated dignity that compels people to try to earn his respect.

Hence, I'm having fun turning him loose on the most absurd, internally inconsistent and frankly, insane batch of characters in the series:

The Royal Guard.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #ulquiorra cifer #Ulquiorra #mild spoilers

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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 1 month

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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 96... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

OMG!! THIS CHAPTER WAS BOTH SO GOOD & SO HILARIOUS!! 😆

This chapter is probably gonna be a new favorite of mine, especially because of that absolutely unexpected thing that happened right before the end of the chapter...!! 😵 So let's talk about it, shall we? 😉

Mission 96 starts back where we basically left of...

...to see who will get to dance with Damian!!💃

To figure this out, Ewen and Emile come up with some challenges to see who is worthy to dance with their Boss Man!! 😆

The first challenge has to do with endurance so the young ladies have to stand on one leg and clap to the until only remain... And since Twilight's there to help Anya win at cost, of course he has a way cheat!!:

But then, THIS HAPPENS...!!:

ANYA ABSOLUTE NUT! 👏🤣👏🤣👏🤣👏🤣

Also... What Twilight said about his arm after Anya's silly antics was ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS TOO!! 😂😂😂

Moving on to the second challenge, the girls must do an obstacle course and who ever are the five fastest will advance to the third and final round!! 👏 A lot of the girls are struggling, but Anya is off to a great start!!

They had to jump over a hurdle (which Anya fell on her face afterward, but still kept going 😂), get through a trap zone (which Anya ripped her dress and stuck for a bit LOOKING LIKE THIS...!!):

THIS FACE OF ANYA'S KILLED ME!! 🤣🤣🤣

The final part of the obstacle course was the Inchworm Crawl, AND ANYA GOT THIRD PLACE, so she's still in this!! 👏😆

The third and final challenge was a quiz about Damian, and Twilight thought that he had it in the bag, but...:

Twilight you silly, silly man...! 😌

Anyway, since this is quiz, of course Anya is gonna use her mind reading abilities to get the right answers...!! Though she almost slips up when she answers a question that probably only Damian, Emile and Ewen know, she makes up for it by missing some questions...!! Anya and one of the other little girls only needed one answer to win, and the question was: Who does Damian love the most?

At first I thought the answer was gonna be Anya, but I'm pretty sure that Ewen and Emile still have no clue that Damian likes her...! 😅 So everyone guessed, but Anya knew what the answer was...:

MY HEART...!! 💗🥹💗

And so, Anya was victorious and got to dance with Damian!! 🎉

HELL, HENDERSON AND MARTHA EVEN GOT TO DANCE WITH EACH OTHER!! 💗😍💗 (This chapter is GOATED for that as well...!!! 👏😆)

Besides that, though Damian and Anya were having some trouble dancing with each other at first, they started to get hang of if it!! 😁 And then...:

EXCUSE ME, WHAT!?!?

Luckily, Damian didn't believe her, but THIS BOMBSHELL may have some ramifications if Damian just casually mentions this to either Melinda, Donovan or someone else dangerous in the future...!! 😱 I am confident that Damian if does eventually believe what Anya told him, he would most definitely keep her secret, but if he doesn't realize it soon, who knows what could happen...!! 😥

And that was Mission 96...

...A FREAKING AMAZING CHAPTER...!!! 👏👏👏

I still can't believe Anya told Damian the truth, though he doesn't believe her yet, it is very possible that he will in future...!! 😊

And to all those that those that thought that Damian would be the first one to know that Anya can read minds, I tip my hat to you guys...!! 👏😄 (Also the damianya shippers are EATING GREAT!! 👏😆👏😆👏😆)

Anyway, I think that's all I wanna say, especially since I know that I'd be here while spouting out theory after theory about what is to come (and wonder if this is gonna lead into Mission 100...!! 🤔) So until next time; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! 💗 LATERS!! 👋😄

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bettyfrommars · 5 months

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hi loves

a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut

nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates

First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.

I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"

I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?

In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."

In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.

Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.

My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.

Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.

That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.

This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️

#Betty thoughts #delulu for life

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whumpshaped · 6 months

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well this didnt start out as a response to the asks but here we are. BINGO

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, mind control, murder, death, conditioned whumpee, derealisation, perceived abandonment/rejection

Beck stared at the ceiling, watching all the invisible lines twist and swirl. He rarely ever saw them — only on days when he was properly out of it, lost between the weightless space between dreams and reality. His head was spinning, but he refused to look away, too afraid of slipping into either realm.

The room was dark and he was alone, allowing him the peace and quiet to drift away, to let his thoughts wander. Wait, no– he wasn't alone. Was he? No, he wasn't. He could hear Helle's soft breathing, even though the vampire didn't need the air like he did. They always kept breathing when they slept. A habit that carried over from their life.

He sluggishly turned his head to check whether they were actually there, and the movement was enough to wake them. It was still surreal, after months, to have those red eyes be fixed on him so intently. "What?" they murmured.

"Nothing," he whispered, continuing his staring. It didn't feel real. The whole vampire thing. Nothing interesting ever happened to him, he was average, normal. Painfully so. There was no way he had a vampire in his bed. It must've been a months long fever dream or something.

"Beck," they groaned. "What?"

He reached out without thinking, but Helle grabbed him by the wrist before he could've poked their cheek. He didn't push it, just let his arm to limp in their hold, trying to ground himself in the sensation of mild pain. It didn't help much.

"Is this real?" he asked quietly.

Helle loosened their grip with a soft sigh, then pulled his hand closer and pressed a kiss to his palm. "Yes, it is real. I am real. You are real."

"Doesn't seem real," he muttered.

"I can turn on some lights so you can look around."

"No... no, I don't... I don't mind it being a little fuzzy." He turned back towards the ceiling, pleased to see the lines were still there. His hand slipped out of Helle's hold and he placed it on his stomach; it felt like he was touching someone else's body. "I wanna stay here. In the twilight zone or whatever."

"I do not think that is the healthiest choice." Helle shifted and got more comfortable, curling up like a cat. "Then again, I do not care that much."

"Can you hold me?" he blurted out.

"What?"

"Hold me. Like..." He scooted a bit closer, worming his way into Helle's embrace. "Like this."

They were so cold. Beck shivered a little at their touch, but it was good, it anchored him to earth. Helle didn't even protest, they just pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head.

"Yes, I can hold you."

The words lingered between them, echoing in Beck's mind to the point he wasn't even sure they had ever been uttered. Had he just imagined it? Even if he had, the cuddles were real, and they were a necessity.

"I might have gone a little too far," Helle went on absently, twirling his hair around their fingers like one would with a doll. "I might have messed with you a little too much."

Talking was a chore, and Beck decided to just let the vampire ramble. They had a nice voice, one that could both give him goosebumps and soothe him, depending on the words spoken. Recently, it began to soothe him regardless of context.

Helle gently pushed his hair out of the way and kissed his neck. "Before you do something we could both regret," they whispered, then bit down.

Beck didn't quite understand it. They had fed before, a full meal, and they'd never gone over the limit ever since his anaemia diagnosis. They also weren't using venom, despite it having become somewhat of a staple over time. And what was that about Beck doing something? He wasn't going to do anything he didn't have permission for. Helle didn't need to pre-emptively... what were they doing again?

He clutched their shirt tighter and let out a little whimper, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. Part of his brain was yelling at him that this was it, this was the night when Helle would finally turn him! But the other part was sceptical, hopeless, almost disillusioned. He hadn't even been begging this time. He'd done nothing to earn it.

"Wh– what's going on..." he mumbled, consciousness fading rapidly with the blood loss. "I don't... I don't feel..."

Helle didn't seem to care. Beck didn't feel like he had the right to care, or be concerned for his own safety. This was what he wanted. Wasn't it? But Helle was so... weird about it all. They sounded apologetic, they didn't sound happy to finally have an excuse to turn him. Was he going to be staked right after death? By... by Helle?

Tears trickled down his cheeks as the idea forced its way into his heart and brain, settling nicely between thoughts of servitude and feelings of adoration. It was okay, he thought distantly. If Helle didn't even want him, then he'd be okay with dying by their hand.

He'd be okay.

He was okay.

He was dying, and it was okay.

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #beckett #helle #vampire whumper #mind control #murder #death #conditioned whumpee

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tangledinink · 1 year

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raph fans come get y'all juice. chapter four of i'm sorry, teenage mutant what now? is up! read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

Okay, fine, he’d admit it. Dad was acting weird.

Like, weird weird, not regular weird. Their dad had always been weird, which Leo had always chalked up to 1.) him being their dad 2.) him spending time in Hollywood. But this? This was off, even for him.

Last night, he spaced out in the middle of one of Mikey’s stories, and Leo still wasn’t sure if he had literally fallen asleep with his eyes open or if he had just accidentally astral projected to the Twilight Zone or something. Of course, they had all then proceeded to say the most absolutely asinine, insane shit that they could think of in an attempt to goad a reaction until Mikey finally managed to snap him out of it by throwing some lentils at him. The day before that, he caught him rifling through that old shelf of weird knick-knacks that none of them were allowed to touch, muttering to himself the entire time like some crazy supervillain. Like, dude, had some ancient ninja ghost replaced their daddy, or what? ‘Cause this was getting freaky. He had kind of just thought Donnie was overreacting, but maybe he was onto something…

He hated it when Donnie was right. It happened annoyingly often and he could never admit it, lest he risk his twin’s ego becoming even larger. There’s only room for one egomaniac in this family.

“Think we can corner Dad on the train ride home and find out what’s happening? That way he won’t be able to run.” He said, casually, inviting himself into his twin brother’s room and tossing himself down on their bed.

Donnie pulled his eyes away from whatever robotics project he was currently tinkering with in order to glare at his brother, spinning around in his desk chair.

“Groan. Do we have to? That sounds unpleasant at best.”

“Hey, you started this in the first place. And you agreed to the plan,” he countered, pointing accusingly at the other. “You don’t get to back out now.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not worried, or that I don’t think someone should talk with him. I’m just saying that I don’t want to do it.” Donnie defended.

“Bummer. You’re participating.” Leo deadpanned. “Between you, me, and Raph, we might have half a chance. And if not… Well. We’ve got the big guns waiting at home.”

Donnie shuddered a bit. The Doctor.

“I don’t know. Based on historical data, there’s about a 76.4% chance that Dad will attempt to bodily throw himself out the window of a moving train if we try to talk to him about his feelings.”

“Do you think we can find a train car without windows?”

“I’ll do some research. I’m sure there are specs available online...” Donnie sighed, turning back around to face his desk and pulling out his phone.

Leo hummed softly, knowing that Donnie would, in fact, actually do that, whether or not it was realistic.

“I’m serious, Donnie. We actually have to talk to him.”

“I mean, yeah, sure. I am too. But what the hell are we gonna say?”

“Ugh. I don’t know! You’re the one with a therapist! And you’ve been seeing her for how long now? Shouldn’t you know how to do all the talky-feely shit by now?”

“I’m autistic.”

“So?”

“You should get a therapist.”

“Off-topic,” Leo muttered, rolling his eyes. “This is, like, weirder than he usually is. Like… Something is for real wrong. It’s kind of spooky.”

“It’s Mikey.”

Leo scoffed. “It’s not Mikey.”

“Yeah, it is. He started being weird right after Mikey lit himself on fire.”

“Mikey didn’t light himself on fire, Dee.”

“Well, he clearly did something . And Dad keeps looking at him like he thinks he’s gonna combust at any moment. There’s a very clear pattern of behavior, Leo.” He insisted. “Also, you don’t know what the hell Mikey did, either, because we both know he wasn’t just playing with matches in his room.”

“He might have been.” Leo huffed. “That kid is way more fucked up than we give him credit for. Remember in the fourth grade when someone destroyed his science fair project?”

Donnie shivered. “You don’t just forget something like that, Leo.”

“Exactly! Playing with lighters is totally within the realm of possibility.”

“There’s a difference between enacting violent but justified revenge and doing simply dangerous stuff just for the fun of it.” Donnie countered, glancing up at the other through half-lidded eyes. “Plus, he’s used to all of us doing dangerous stuff for the fun of it! Dad wouldn’t react this way if he was just worried Mikey was gonna hurt himself. He deals with worrying Mikey is gonna hurt himself all the time. Nor would he let Mikey get away with this with nary a punishment if that were truly the case. In the very least, Dad doesn’t think the event was the result of Mikey just ‘playing with lighters.’”

“Oh, so what? It’s magic? His notebook magically caught on fire?” Leo challenged dryly, giving his twin an unimpressed look.

“Of course not. I’m a man of science.” Donnie scoffed. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, but, admittedly, I haven’t been able to intuit exactly what the cause was just yet. My investigation is still ongoing.” He sighed. “... But maybe Dad thinks it was?”

Leo paused for a moment, rolling the thought around in his head, frowning a bit.

“You think Dad thinks Mikey magically caught his notebook on fire?” He questioned, raising one brow in doubt.

“It’s possible,” Donnie said, shrugging. “We know that he’s superstitious.”

Leo hummed softly, his hand automatically moving to spin the small silver bracelet on his wrist, running his fingertips across the smooth edges of the blue crystal in its center. One in a set of five. He supposed that that was technically true… ‘Superstitious’ wasn’t really the first word that would come to mind if he was trying to describe his father. It wouldn’t even be in the top ten. But slapping actual good-luck charms onto each of his children did kind of automatically sort him into that category, didn’t it?

He knew his dad had a small altar in his room, and they would occasionally celebrate, or at least acknowledge, Japanese holidays that he had grown up with. But they didn’t have any other charms or amulets in their home, at least not that Leo knew of, just old knick-knacks and trinkets that lived on shelves or in closets. They had never gone to a shrine or temple or church or anything of the like in their lives, and he had never heard his Dad pray before. But the bracelets? He had always been really invested in that. Leo literally couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t all worn them. He had told them since they were small that they ‘kept them safe ,’ and it had been a hard rule their entire lives that they weren’t to be removed.

It was the kind of thing that Leo was pretty sure people would think was weird if he brought it up-- so he usually didn’t. He used to think it was weird, too, honestly, and kind of dumb. I mean, they were just bracelets, right? So what did it matter? But he remembered the one time he had tried to take it off when he was around seven. Even now it was absolutely vivid in his brain every time he thought about it.

He hadn’t been trying to rebel or make trouble or anything, he had just been bored. He forgot exactly where they were, but they were waiting in line for something at some building with lots of desks and people milling about, discussing boring things. And there wasn’t anything to do! He had exhausted all viable options for entertaining himself: Annoying his father. Annoying his brother. Annoying his other brother. Annoying his other other brother. So he had basically run out of ideas.

He hadn’t even taken the bracelet off. I mean, not all the way. He was just messing with it, kind of yanking it up and down his wrist, and seeing if he could wiggle it up his hand over his knuckles--

But god, he remembers the way his father’s voice sounded when he caught him, biting out his name like it was painful. He remembers the look on his face, and even now it makes him feel small.

Not because his dad was angry. But because he was scared.

He had never seen his dad look that way before in his entire life. Like he was about to watch the entire world crumble down around him.

It was scary. His dad was scared, so he got scared, too. He shivers a little bit at the memory, his frown deepening. They had left shortly after, and Dad had assured him at least twenty times that he wasn’t mad, and he was sorry for scaring him, and it was okay, but that he couldn’t take the bracelet off. It was important.

Leo and his brothers had kind of decided after that that it probably was important and that they really shouldn’t take them off. Leo wasn’t entirely sure if he completely believed now that they actually ‘kept them safe’ or whatever, but he had certainly believed it then. And besides that, clearly, their father believed it, and that alone was enough for him. It was too small to really get off now, anyway. They had grown enough that Leo doubted he could wriggle his way out of it even if he wanted to. It was a small miracle that Raph hadn’t busted his with how damn beefy he had grown, but hey, he wasn��t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth or anything.

“Okay. Fine.” Leo conceded. “So, Dad thinks Mikey has magic hands, or whatever. What do we do about it?”

---

The train ride over to the swim meet was relatively calm, filled with idle chatter and conversation. Leo, Donnie, and Raph had met their Dad at the station after school, and they spent the trip discussing the new leaf Donnie's Monstera was growing, the most recent viral street magic video Leo had seen, and the latest funny thing Raph's swim kids had done. Raph attempted, unsuccessfully, to prod their Dad into sharing as well, but the most he got was information about the latest reality show episode he had watched. Their Dad wasn't always the biggest sharer, but usually, they could at least get him to discuss the state of his Dojos, any new acting prospects, or celebrity gossip. He loved celebrity gossip! But not today-- the conversation stayed squarely focused on his three sons.

Still, it had been pleasant, even with the slight stirring of anxiety in Raph's stomach. They were all busy more often than they weren't, so it was always nice to get to spend any amount of time together. Their pops didn't always attend all their various sporting events, recitals, or other competitions-- it just wasn't realistic. There was only one of him, after all. But they were getting towards the end of the season at this point, which meant that all the 'important' events were beginning to crop up on their calendars. Their Dad hated to miss those-- even if they did go pretty much every year. He always said he wanted to ‘brag about how talented his children were.’

The sports center was just a short walk from the train station, and Raph glanced down at their father as they made their way into the bustling lobby. "You know where you're goin', pops?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I could give tours of this place." His father joked, his frame shaking with his laughter. "You boys know how to find me if you need me. Now, go and have fun. And also, kick some butt!" He encouraged with a toothy grin.

"You got it, pops!" Raph assured, smiling wide in response, herding his two younger brothers off to the locker room. Usually, they'd come here with the rest of their team. Rather than traveling with their Dad, they'd travel with the other kids and their coach. But this was the city-wide meet. Qualifiers only-- which thinned out the crowd. Raph knew there were other competitors from the Mad Dogs Swim Team around here somewhere, but until they could hunt them down, it was just the three of them. Luckily, this was far from their first rodeo.

"Dibs on Candy Locker!" Leo yelled.

"Leo, no one else wants Candy Locker," Donnie said.

"Do not touch the Candy Locker!" Raph shouted.

They did this every year.

The infamous Candy Locker.

Raph, Leo, and Donnie had been competing in swim since they were eight and seven, respectively. And every year since then, all three of them had qualified for city-wide. And every year, city-wide was held at the Aquatics Pavilion at the Ithaca College campus. And every year that they came here, since they discovered it their very first time, the Candy Locker remained.

It was basically a historical landmark at this point, and Raph was continuously baffled that it still persevered. There were rows and rows of shiny slate gray lockers in the changing rooms, free for whatever visiting athlete to use while they competed, just big enough that you could fit a swim bag in there if you really put some muscle into it, all labeled and neat. Typically, you would open a locker without a padlock, and there would be one of two things there. One: someone else's clothes and bag. Someone already took this locker, but is playing it fast and loose and trusts no one will steal their shit. That's cool. Stealing ain't the Mad Dog way. Two: An empty locker. Sweet, free locker. You can shove your shit in there. But at the Aquatics Pavilion, there was also a third option.

That option was a faded yellow pillowcase filled to the brim with about two pounds of Halloween candy.

The running theory was that someone had stashed it here ages ago, forgotten it, and it had just been there ever since, therefore transforming Locker 336 into ‘Candy Locker.’ Raph wasn't sure if the staff at the school truly just weren't aware of it, if they just didn't feel like dealing with it, or if they too respected it enough that they couldn't bring themselves to destroy it. All he knew was that Candy Locker was forever, and a fixture of the institution.

He also knew that every single year, without fail, Leo tried to sneak chocolate out of Candy Locker.

"You can't use Candy Locker. Leo! It's not open for use! It's Candy Locker, and it needs to be treated with respect!" Raph yelled, giving a low groan of annoyance as Leo just barely glanced back at him, just for a moment, this absolutely feral look of excitement in his eyes, and darted off, breaking away from their small group. Dammit.

All of Raph's little brothers were fast and small and nimble. Raph always felt a tiny bit awed when he watched how they moved-- weaving about obstacles like minnows swimming upstream, dancing and darting about in a way that always looked effortless. Raph was fast, too, and he was far more acrobatic than the average high schooler... Don't get it twisted, he was perfectly capable of back-flips and cartwheels. But small? Small he was not.

It was tough being a big guy sometimes. I mean, he didn't dislike it by any means! He loved being large enough that he could see over crowds and keep an eye on everything. He loved feeling strong and powerful enough that he could plant himself in between his family and any kind of danger, and feel like a wall-- an immovable object. He loved being strong, relished the rush of pinning his opponents to the ground beneath him without any effort and smashing his way through obstacles.

... But with size and strength comes responsibility. Wait, was that the quote? Something like that. The point was, if he ran after Leo, he'd mow half these kids down. And he didn't wanna hurt anyone or anything. He knew better than that.

"Raphael."

Raph's father knelt down next to him, his voice gentle, but nudging, demanding to be heard. It took Raph a few moments, but eventually, he glanced up at him, peeking shyly at his father from behind his hand and uncurling from the small ball he was rolled into just the tiniest bit.

"Raphael, did you hit Leonardo?"

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded a tiny bit, sniffling loudly.

"And bite him?"

He nodded again, drawing his legs up to his chest and hiding his face in his knees.

His father sighed softly. "Red, we cannot--"

"He pushed me first!" He bit out, and he could feel his face burn even hotter than before, all muddy with shame and anger sloshed together. "H-he was being mean, and, and he wouldn't leave me alone! And I wanted him to stop!"

"I will talk to him, Red. But just because he pushes you does not mean you can push back. Or hit him, or bite him. You are bigger than him, Raphael." This brought a fresh sob tumbling through Raph's chest, despite his best efforts. His father sighed again before slowly sitting down, holding out his arms.

"Come here, my son."

Raphael rolled over onto his hands and knees, crawling into his dad's lap and burrowing his face into his chest. His dad's arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight and rocking the two of them back and forth. And for a while, they just sat like that, quiet and still, hidden away in the hallway closet.

"Is Leo okay?" Raph eventually mumbled, not picking up his head.

"He will be alright," Dad confirmed. "But you did hurt him quite a bit, Raphael."

"Sorry." He whispered. He wiped at his face with balled-up fists, hiccuping a few times. His mouth tasted salty, now, from the tears, but it still tasted bitter from the blood, too.

"...You did a very good job coming to get me right away."

Raph hummed a tiny bit in response, but he didn't say anything beyond that. He wished he could fold himself up even tighter and hide. He wished he was so small he could fit in between the floorboards. He wished he could disappear.

"You know, your gym teacher is very impressed with you, Red." Dad eventually began to speak again. "He told me all about how wonderfully you do whenever he sees you. You're bigger and stronger than the other kids in your class," He continued, and then laughed. "And I think that is very cool! And it makes me very proud to hear about how well you have done."

Raph finally dared to peek up at his father again, wiping some of the tears off his cheeks.

"But I know it can be hard to be strong sometimes. It is a lot of work, being big and strong! You have to be careful with others around you, even if they're not careful with you back. That is very difficult!" He said, his hand moving in slow circles up and down his child's spine. "But I have seen you many, many times be big and strong to protect your brothers, and keep them safe, and to help them." He said, keeping quiet for a moment before exhaling slowly through his nose. "... Can I share a secret with you, Red?"

A secret? His eyes widened a bit, and he immediately nodded.

"I have been thinking that perhaps you boys might be ready to start learning proper martial arts at the dojo." Raph let out an audible gasp, his entire body perking up with excitement. Actual for real kung-fu and karate and stuff?! Not just blocks and poses!? "But I am a little worried that your brothers might hurt themselves, or fight with each other if I teach them."

Oh. Raph hadn't thought of that before. He frowned a bit, his brows suddenly pinched with worry. He hadn’t ever considered before that learning martial arts could actually be a bad idea. If he learned martial arts with his Dad, what if he just hurt his brothers worse?

"But I know how much you all want to learn. And I can already see how much potential you all have." He continued with a soft smile. "So I was hoping that you could help me. I don't like that you and Leo got into a fight, or that he got hurt... But now I know that you know what it feels like to hurt someone that you love. And that it doesn't feel very good, does it?"

No... It felt horrible. He furrowed his brows, frowning before nodding a bit.

"So I think that means that I can trust you to help me with teaching them how to be careful and strong at the same time, and keep them safe. Do you think you could handle that, Red?"

Raphael swallowed hard, feeling this wet lump form in his throat. All the tears from before welled up in his eyes again-- even though he didn't wanna live in the floorboards anymore. His dad still trusted him that much? Even now, after he messed up really bad? He tried to tell his father 'yes,' but his lips were wobbling too much for his tongue to work right, so he just nodded as hard as he could instead. Yes-- He wanted more than anything to help protect his little brothers, no matter what. ‘Cause even when they made him so, so angry... he still loved them so, so much.

"I thought so." Dad laughed, kissing the top of his son's head before ruffling his hair lightly. "And I know we will not have any more fighting like this. And no more biting , Raphael. We have talked about this. If you want to bite something, I will get you something else that is for biting. But it cannot be people! Understood?"

Hiccuping a bit, Raphael nodded again. Somehow, he wasn't even upset to be scolded this time. And he knew that he had said he wouldn't bite people before, but this time he really meant it.

"Good boy. Now, I am going to go check on your brothers. Do you want to stay here a little bit longer, or do you want to come with me?"

Raph took a long, deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat so that he could find his voice again.

"I wanna see my brothers."

"GET BACK HERE, LEO. DON'T MAKE ME COME AFTER YOU." He shouted, and was completely ignored. "Donnie--"

"Not involved." Donnie immediately replied, not looking up from his phone.

Raph groaned, trying to pick up the pace without taking out any bystanders, muttering repeated, "Pardon me's," and "'Scuse me's," as he went.

Leo really wasn't that far ahead of them-- He wouldn't completely ditch them, but he did get far enough ahead that he was already breaking into Candy Locker by the time Raph rounded the corner, his face set into a deep scowl.

"Leo. Don't you dare."

"Look! Untouched and beautiful as ever!"

"Leo, do not eat the candy ."

"Wow, and they have all our favorites, too..."

"They are at least eight years old! At a minimum , Leo!"

"Oh, pshhh. As if I haven't seen you wolf down two-week-old leftovers before." Leo scoffed.

"Remember that time he ate beef jerky out of the trash?" Not helping, Donnie.

"It was right on top! Practically untouched!" Raph protested. "And that's completely different! Plus, eight years is, like, twelve times longer than two weeks is!"

"That math is not correct..." Donnie mumbled under his breath.

"Chillax! I'm not gonna eat any of the candy." Leo said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Oh, thank god.

"I just wanna have one. To like... put on a shelf or something. I bet Donnie could make a little pedestal for it."

Dammit.

"One year." Raph said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just one year. I just want us to leave Candy Locker in peace... for one year . It's a sacred space, Leo!"

"Mmmm..." Leo pursed his lips, placing a hand on his hip. "Yeah, I mean. I see what you're saying, but... I'm pretty sure no one is gonna miss, like, one Tootsie Pop."

"Stop messing with him, Leo." Donnie chided, cracking open a locker nearby, tossing his bag down and shucking off his jacket.

"Okay, okay. Fine. Because I'm an amazing brother, I will refrain from interacting any further with Candy Locker until after the meet." Leo declared, slapping the locker shut again with a flick of his wrist and a satisfying metallic clack. "But know this, Raphael. This isn't over."

Raphael scoffed, rolling his eyes, glaring at Leo as he yanked open his own locker. He loved his brothers dearly-- he did. But they were really lucky sometimes that he didn't just snap their necks.

---

At this point, Yoshi had a pretty good handle on these types of events, and he knew well enough how to navigate. He knew exactly which corner bounced cheers and shouts about the least, knew just where all the vents, pumping in warm air to prevent all the swimmers from freezing their butts off, were hidden, so they could be avoided, and knew the best seating arrangement that allowed for minimal soreness the following day. Metal bleachers weren’t exactly easy on your back, after all! Armed with years of experience, (plus his cellphone and earbuds for when events did not feature his sons and he got bored,) he was fully committed to making it through the meet and focusing for the entirety of it. Had he made any progress on the whole Hamato Ninpo thing? Well, no, not exactly. Which was. Ah. Worrisome. But, now was not the time for that!

He was quite excited to watch his three eldest sons kick ass and take names, as per usual.

He said 'hello' to a few of the other parents that he knew and made some polite small talk, settling down to watch the meet. Warm-ups were already done by the time he was all seated, and he could see his boys and the rest of their team from where they sat across the pool; audience members sat on one side, and competitors on the other. He watched them doing much of the same-- making conversation with each other and their teammates, checking their phones, and cheering whenever anyone they knew was in the water.

All in all, everything was fairly normal and expected. Yoshi still struggled a bit to keep himself focused, and not think too deeply about all the worries in his head, but it wasn't as bad as it had been lately... It had been nearly a week now with no further incidents, no questioning from his children, and no spooky prophecies or visions from his ancestors or anything like that. So he was beginning to wonder, or perhaps more accurately, hope that maybe it had just been a fluke. Just a one-off event rather than the beginning of anything trying. Maybe his family was fine, their identity and secrets were safe, and nothing further was going to occur to jeopardize that-- they could just continue to live in peace just as they had been.

He watched the twins get up from the bench for their next event, shedding their hoodies and towels in favor of goggles, only to get waved over by an official. The two wandered over and joined him and what appeared to be another parent. He couldn't hear what they were saying from where he was, but the conversation soon became animated-- Donnie's arms crossed over his chest, Leo talking wildly with his hands, and worry immediately began to blossom in his chest. He had just gotten to his feet, beginning to make his way over to the group when the discussion seemed to dissolve, his two sons walking away visibly upset. Yoshi met them halfway.

"What is going on?" He immediately questioned, his brows knit together, forming wrinkled creases in his skin. He could see Raphael straining to see from his side of the pool, a similar expression on his own face.

"Ugh. It's nothing." Leo huffed, a scowl set on his face, his hands on his hips. "Some Karen or whatever is just mad that we're gonna ruin her kid's record or whatever, so she talked the officials into drug testing us."

"Which is obviously a complete waste of time and resources," Donnie added in, rolling his eyes.

"She's just gonna embarrass herself when it comes back negative. As if we need any steroids to clean up shop." Leo declared, a small, sly grin growing on his face, offering out a hand to high-five his brother like, ‘Sick burn, right, Dee?'

His brother accepted, slapping his palm firmly. "Indeed."

Yoshi had broken out into a cold sweat, feeling as though his entire body had turned into stone, freezing him in place.

"O-oh. A drug test. Yes, how silly..." He mumbled, forcing a grin on his face. "How. Uh. How exactly... Does that work? Is it going to take long? I would hate for the, uh, the meet to be held up...!"

"No, they're just doing a rapid test." Donnie hummed. "Obviously it's going to be a smaller panel than they could achieve with a proper lab test, and not achieve quite as accurate or varied of a data set, but it should only take five minutes or so. I understand they're fetching the technician now, and then it should be as simple as collecting a urine sample to use. It can only reveal a 'negative' or 'positive' result rather than any more detailed variations or anything of the like, but of course, this isn't a concern for us, since we already know neither of us is using any drugs. It's actually a very fascinating process--"

Yoshi wasn't listening anymore, because all he could hear in his ears was his own voice screaming TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS.

Logically, the test did not have the capacity to give such information. Donatello had just said that there were only two possible test results, positive or negative, and his purplest son usually knew what he was talking about regarding such things. So, reasonably, he knew it could not possibly come back ‘Mutant Turtle’. And rationally, he knew that his family had been under further scrutiny in the past and come out on the other side just fine. This did not ease his panic. It never did.

Insurance cards? Check. Paperwork? Check. All four children? Check. He went over his list for the fifth time in his head, glancing down at his kids, two on either side of him, as they approached the office. Right... Yes. He had everything he needed.

So why didn't he feel even the least bit prepared?

He had gone to such lengths to ensure the success of this plan. He had accounted for every document that would need to be forged, had crafted an elaborate story to explain his disappearance, and had paid dearly for the five bracelets that concealed his and his sons' mutant identities. He prepared for every possible threat to their new identities, and did everything he could to allow the success of their new lives.

It wasn't like he didn't account for this. He knew that it would be an obstacle, and he knew that it would be one that they would have to face. That didn't stop it from being terrifying.

The doctor.

Despite all the paperwork he had fabricated, he knew that they wouldn't be able to avoid going to the doctor forever. Even if he falsified records indicating his sons were up to date on absolutely everything and in perfect health, this would only buy them a year or two before they would be due for a visit, or risk being barred from enrollment in public school. And even if he somehow avoided this, too, what if one of his children got sick? Or injured? Was he to simply keep them at home and deny them medical care?

No, no. He wanted his kids to have a normal life. He wanted them to be able to do things like go to school and play in parks and make friends with other children... and have proper medical care when it was needed. He wanted them to be vaccinated, to be screened for problems, to have regular check-ups and be able to go to the hospital when they were hurt. He desperately wanted this.

But jesus christ, this was terrifying.

"Are you ready, boys?" He asked, glancing down at his children once more. He was trying to keep his voice level and his body language calm, but he could tell that his sons could sense his anxiety. His heart broke a little when four pairs of big, horrified eyes looked up at him and they shook their heads.

"Ah, where are my brave boys?" He questioned, nudging them ever so slightly, beginning the walk into the office. He held Mikey and Donnie's hands tightly so that they wouldn't be able to tell he was shaking. "Do not worry. I promise that Dr. Davis is very nice. Nothing bad will happen." He assured.

The boys didn't seem too convinced. He wasn't either, truthfully, but he marched them inside anyway.

It had been over a decade since he had last been inside a doctor's office, and even longer than that since he had been to a pediatrician. Yet somehow, it felt like nothing had really changed. Colorful wires with wooden beads strung on them stuck out from a brightly-painted table in the middle of the room, in sharp contrast to the faded burgundy chairs lined along the walls. Children's books and Highlight magazines covered every available surface, which Donnie immediately took to reading. There were a few other parents with their children as well, but the Hamatos were in no mood to socialize. After speaking to the woman at the front desk, Yoshi got to work filling out a literal stack of papers. He was so nervous, he messed up at least three different forms, and had to sheepishly request new copies.

And then they waited.

The longer they sat, the more the collective anxiety seemed to mount. Yoshi couldn't help the scenarios running through his mind over and over, each one ending with a doctor or nurse shrieking in horror and calling Animal Control--

"Dad."

Yoshi blinked back into reality, looking down at his youngest son, pulling at his sleeve with tears in his eyes.

"Dad, I wanna go home," Mikey whispered, leaning in close to him and sniffling a bit. "I don't wanna see the doctor."

Quite frankly, Yoshi was inclined to agree with his kid, to pick them all up and walk out right this very minute. But he suppressed the urge.

"I know, Mikey. I do not like seeing the doctor either." He admitted, scooping up the preschooler to hold in his lap. "But I promise... Dr. Davis is very nice, and, ah, I will not let them do anything bad to you... I am sure everything will be fine...!"

Before he could continue his, quite frankly, horrible pep talk, a nurse poked her head into the room from the back.

"The Hamatos?"

"Yo. Dad. You good?"

Yoshi paused for a moment before he returned properly back to the present day, glancing over at his sons and giving a nervous laugh, which then dissolved into a cough.

"Ah! Yes, of course! I am perfectly fine! Why wouldn't I be!" He wheezed, and his sons exchanged looks.

"Papa, honestly, it's fine. This will take ten minutes tops, and again, I assure you that neither Leo nor myself are engaging in any kind of recreational substances." Donnie said.

"Yeah! All we gotta do is piss in a cup." Leo added in. "And then we'll be all set. It's just annoying. Here, why don't you sit down, watch some Netflix or something-- I know you like Netflix-- and we'll be back in a bit, okay? Just chill."

"Right. Of course. I am... very chill." Yoshi insisted, even though he could feel his hands trembling a bit. Gah! Stupid traitor hands! Stop it!

"Surrreeee," Donnie said, taking him by the arm and slowly leading him back to the bleachers, sitting him down and patting his shoulder. "We'll be right back, alright? Nothing to worry about."

---

"Alright, you should be all set." Dr. Davis hummed pleasantly, offering a gentle smile to her latest anxious parent. "Everyone looks great! Healthy weights, nothing scary going on... We'll send you home with some literature and referral information for Donatello. I would recommend considering getting in contact with them if you can, especially since he's gonna be starting school soon, but beyond that everything looks fantastic."

"Yes-- thank you," Yoshi said, forcing a smile, shakily accepting the new stack of papers that the doctor handed over.

Nothing had gone wrong.

Well, a few things had gone wrong. Mikey and Raphael had both cried when they got their shots. Donnie had a small meltdown after being repeatedly touched by people he didn't like. And Leo had punched a nurse in the gut for upsetting his brothers.

But their bill of health came back clean. No mentions of turtles, mutations, cold-bloodedness, or reptilian features of any kind.

They made it through. They would be okay.

"... And we'll see you back in about five weeks for their next booster series, okay? Jacklyn up front can get you all scheduled!"

Yoshi pursed his lips slightly, his mouth suddenly feeling rather dry.

"... Ah. Yes. Of course."

---

The concept of buoyancy was built upon that of displacement; the idea that two different forms of matter could not occupy the same space. Archimedes once theorized that water, a liquid, would be pushed aside by a solid mass, but an object of an appropriate weight, density, or shape could ensure that the displaced weight of the water was greater than the total weight of the object, therefore ensuring it to float. This is, of course, connected to the concept of forces. Gravity is a downward force that acts upon all objects; when an object is placed in a fluid, that fluid must supply a force equal in magnitude but opposite in direction to the gravitational force for the object to float. Scientifically speaking, it was all a matter of density and mass, and every action that one took in the water, as well as every action that the water had in response, could be explained through a series of formulas and equations.

... In a non-scientific sense, however, water was safe and soft and inviting. Water would make room for you, no matter who you were or what you were doing. Once you got in, it would change itself to make exactly enough space for your body. Water was fluid and changing, soft and gentle when you moved softly, hard and firm when you moved harshly. In the water, the way you move changes. The way you see and hear changes. Perception itself shifts.

God, Donatello loved swimming.

Even just swimming laps was great, but a race only heightened the experience, engaging every bit of his body and mind and encouraging him to push. From the moment the buzzer went off and he dived from the starting block, ( push off with your legs, you're going for distance, not for height, hands together, smooth entry point, ) to the lap down, ( head down, no breathing except for when you absolutely need to, arms go back and glide over the water-- imagine your fingertips skimming just over the surface, no unnecessary movement, just enough for the maximum propulsion forward with minimal effort, ), the turn at the wall, ( watch the floor, see the blue tile end and the white begin-- you know the math, count it out, at five you duck, chin to your chest, arms together, kick off the wall and get as much air off that sucker as you can, ) and the sprint back, ( kick from your hips, not your knees, no reserving energy, it's just a fifty, this is a ‘dash,’ so dash -- )

Every second of it he was engaged, and every second of it he adored the experience. He didn't even slow down when he approached the wall, ramming into it at full speed and using his outstretched hands to stop himself and trigger the timer that stopped the clock. They didn't have to worry about slowing down. They wouldn't run into anything. Their own hands and the water would catch them.

Sucking in ragged breaths, he looked to his left, and then he looked to his right. Leo was right behind him, but as he glanced up at the display board on the wall to check his time, he grinned widely. He had more than a five-second lead over him. More than enough to qualify for Regionals-- not that he had been worried. Leo was well within the range as well, just as expected. The three of them always went to Regionals. And Donnie was quite pleased to note that the kid from Lane 4, the child, he and Leo had deduced, of the woman who demanded they be tested, was significantly behind the two of them. Sure, his time was good enough to qualify for Regionals, too...

But it wasn't anywhere near as good as theirs. Haha. Suck it.

One by one, all of the racers joined him at the end of the lane, bobbing about in the water and holding onto the pool edge or the lane lines, everyone out of breath and filled with adrenaline. He shook the hands of his two lane neighbors, congratulating both of them on a race well run, and once the referee blew his whistle, he clambered out of the water, hoisting himself up back onto dry land and moving to rejoin his twin.

"Killed it." Leo said, though breathlessly, ("if you're not struggling to breathe by the end of a race, you're not doing it right," their coach often said,) offering a fistbump, which Donnie reciprocated.

"As expected." He said, grinning wide as the two of them made their way back to the bleachers.

"Leo! Donnie! Nice!" Raph called as they approached, tossing them each a towel to wrap around themselves, each beginning to dry themselves off, peeling goggles and swim caps off their heads. "Good time! But, uh, what was with the--?"

"Some lady made us do a drug test," Leo explained, waving a hand as if to dismiss Raph's concerns. "It was dumb, we both passed, it's all good now. Just annoying."

"A drug test?! Seriously?!" Raph said, scoffing loudly. And admittedly, Raphala was no stranger to similar situations. Donnie recalled he had been accused of taking steroids or faking his age more than once in his various sporting exploits, but it typically wasn't taken as far as to actually test him. Donnie thought, vaguely, that he was almost surprised that Raph wasn't subject to the same treatment as he and Leo were today, but he supposed it did make at least a bit of sense. Raph was big-- he was tall and visibly muscular and powerful. People looked at him and expected him to excel in athletics.

He and Leo? Not so much. Leo was only 5'5", and he himself barely passed 5'3" without his boots, much to his annoyance. They were both lean and clearly athletically inclined, sure, but they were both much smaller and slimmer than their older brother was. People looked at them and were often surprised by their respective sporting resumes. Especially him.

"Yes, yes, it was an unfortunate waste of everyone's time." Donnie agreed. "But to no one's surprise, it came back completely spotless, and we were able to proceed without issue and completely destroy absolutely everyone, in your face Karen, thank you very much."

"Is that why Dad's been freaking out?" Raph asked after a moment, raising a brow. Donnie followed his eyes to steal a glance over at their father on the other side of the pool, looking much better than he had before they received their test results, (both he and Leo offering him thumbs up from across the way once they had been cleared, and watching him sag with relief,) but still seemed a bit shaky.

"Yeah," Leo said, wrinkling his nose. "I thought he was gonna pass out for a second there when we told him. He was sweating so much, it was disgusting."

"He doesn't seriously think you guys' would come back positive or anything, does he?" Raph scoffed, frowning a bit, and Leo shook his head.

"Nah, I don't think so. But you know how scared he is of doctors."

---

Dad always got like this whenever they had an appointment.

'This' meaning, of course, 'Visibly and overwhelmingly anxious and frightened, absolutely filled with dread and horror.'

They were all kind of used to it by now.

When they were little, it would sort of freak them out, because every time they had to go to the doctor, he had to come with them, and he'd be in a state of near-panic the whole time. And if Dad was freaking out, then they should probably be freaking out too, right? Looking back, Leo recognized that he was always trying to hide it, but quite frankly, he did a pretty shit job at it. Now that they had gotten a bit older, however, collectively exiting elementary school years to enter junior high, they more-or-less recognized that Dad's doctor-induced panic was really more of a personal thing, and not necessarily something that they needed to worry about themselves. Leo still didn't really like the doctor, and he kind of doubted he ever would, but he wouldn't really categorize himself as 'afraid' any longer.

Their Dad? Not so much.

The four of them had been long aware of the little note on the calendar in the kitchen, the sacred piece of literature that controlled all their lives, dictating that at four o'clock on this date, their dear father would be summoned to the doctor's office. And they knew that, of course, like he did every time, he would totally freak out. And, just as predicted, he had been an anxious mess all day, pacing around the house, mumbling nonsense to himself, (something about them being ‘onto him’ and ‘rat blood’ and other completely meaningless jibber-jabber.)

But this time, they had a plan. They absolutely could not continue to watch him like this. Everyone was in place. Leo looked across the living room, nodding to Raph. Raph glanced at Donnie, who checked his watch, and likewise nodded an affirmative. Mikey put down his sketchbook, getting to his feet, and the four of them, following his cue, fell into step with each other and filed into the kitchen.

Mission: Save Daddy From the Horrors was a go.

"Hey Dad," Mikey began, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning into him slightly. Raph, at the same time, got to work preparing a pot of tea-- Donnie fetched the cream, Leo was on sugar duty. "So, we were thinking. Maybe we could come with you this afternoon?"

Their father startled slightly, immediately moving to glare at Mikey with suspicious eyes. "What?! Come with me? Why would you want to come with me to a doctor's appointment?"

"Well, we were just thinking, it might be a nice, uh... family outing!" Raphael offered with a shrug, chuckling nervously and looking to the side. "And maybe we could, I dunno, get frozen yogurt on the way back?"

"And we could watch that game show you like on the way over. With the mystery shrimp?" Donnie suggested.

"Plus, I mean, I've been meaning to get some acting tips from you? Not that I need them, obviously, but..." Leo added, placing a cup into his father's hands as he narrowed his eyes.

"... You boys are... up to something..." Dad mumbled, looking between the four of them with a slight frown.

"Up to something? No! Of course not!" Raph insisted, and Mikey placed a hand on their father's shoulder.

"We just want to spend more quality time with you! As a family! Don't you want to spend time with us, your loving sons?" He questioned, batting his eyes. "Plus, we can get frozen yogurt! We know how much you love frozen yogurt, right?"

"Yeah, what they said," Donnie said.

"Pleaseeeee?" Leo went in for the kill, offering a dramatic pout, poking his lower lip out as far as it could possibly go. Mikey joined in shortly, combining their powers to reach near-dangerous levels of puppy-dog-eyes.

"... I suppose... If you really would like to..."

Score. They were in. Goal: minimize anxiety and get their dad home from the doctor's office in one piece for a change. And if they got some frozen yogurt in the process? What was the harm in that? As far as Leo was concerned, so long as they could manage to get their Dad through this appointment without totally freaking out, that'd be a win. And, if things went well, it would be that much easier to convince him to allow them to accompany him to future appointments, too.

---

The rest of the swim meet went about as expected. Donnie easily got the best times in every event he participated in, and all three of them, plus a couple of their teammates, made it into the upcoming Regionals. Trophies and ribbons were given out in the end, which they had all immediately passed on to their father, ‘cause he was more excited about them than they were and would surely figure out a way to find space for at least some of them at home. Raph physically wrestled an ancient Twix bar out of Leo's hands, and once his little brother finally cried for mercy and swore to leave Candy Locker alone for the remainder of the trip, he unpinned him from the ground and allowed him to get back up. Normal stuff.

It wasn't until the train ride home that things got kind of weird.

About fifteen minutes in Leo started giving him these looks. Looks that said, ' go on, say something.' So Raph started giving Leo ' no, you say something ' looks. After some back and forth, they both tried to give Donnie looks, but Donnie completely ignored them in every sense of the word, pointedly refusing to look up from his phone as he discussed the process of coding artificial intelligence to their dad, who clearly didn't understand anything they were saying, but to his credit, was doing his best to nod along.

After losing a silent game of rock-paper-scissors played at knee-level, just outside of their father's field of vision, Raph cleared his throat, leaning over slightly.

"Sooo, Pops... You been... sleeping okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes! You know I am always out like a light after my before-bed snack!" Dad replied easily with a chuckle, and Raph frowned, ‘cause he could tell just by looking at him that that was a lie.

"Uh-huh. Right." Leo scoffed, not buying it. "That's crazy. Because, no offense, but you look kind of like garbage. And like you haven't so much as touched a pillow in, like... ever."

This immediately earned him a smack to his forehead.

"Garbage?! I will have you know that I was voted Hollywood's ‘Sexiest Action Film Star’ five years in a row! No respect!"

Leo whined loudly, rubbing his forehead and mumbling "ew," under his breath, but Raph knew it was all for show. Dad's infamous ‘Karate Chops’ never actually hurt. Though it could be that Leo was more hurting from the psychological damage of hearing their father refer to himself as ‘sexy’ than anything else...

"I concur-- ew. And as fascinating as this factoid that you've cursed us with is, father, it doesn't really address the fact that you've clearly not been sleeping." Donnie remarked, still not looking up from his phone screen. Raph knew he was listening, though. He wasn't typing, no video was playing. He was fully engaged with the conversation. Just needed his barrier.

"Yeah, if anyone is qualified to identify an insomniac, it's me!" Leo added in.

"What we're trying to say is," Raph jumped in, hands held out and a nervous smile on his face, "Is just, uh. That we're a little worried about you, Pops. I mean. You've seemed kind of, uh, out of it... since..."

"Since that thing with Mikey." Leo helpfully supplied, crossing his arms over his chest.

Raph noted the slight twitch in his Dad's left eye.

"What thing with Mikey?" Dad feigned.

"Uh, the thing where he started a fire in his room? That thing? Ringing any bells?" Leo pressed, with a tone and a look that said 'yeah, nice try.'

"Oh, yes. That." Their dad said, waving a hand dismissively. "We have already discussed this, boys. The important thing is that Mikey was not hurt, and Purple, I know you are upset because you are not allowed to start fires anymore--"

"It's not about Mikey, Dad," Raph interjected. "It's about you! You've just... you've been acting... weird! And it's been nearly a week now! And-- and if something's goin' on, we wanna know!"

"Nothing is going on." Their father immediately denied. "I already told you all. That was simply a freak accident, and it is not anything worth worrying about. I am fine! It is nothing you need to concern yourselves with."

"Dad, come on. There's obviously something bothering you!" Raph pushed a little harder, despite the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach, feeling like a soda can in a washing machine. "We just wanna help. Come on, don't you trust us--"

"Enough." This time it was Dad who interrupted, his voice harder now, firm and definite. Raph flinched slightly. "I already said it is none of your concern. I am fine. I am perfectly capable of handling this, and I do not want any of you involved!"

Raph opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but was surprised to find that there were no words. So he closed it again. He glanced over at Leo and Donnie, but they had about the same expressions on their faces as him.

"Please, Red." He heard the sigh in his father's voice, and he sounded softer now, tired even, and placed a hand on Raph’s shoulder. Raph glanced downwards, his eyes following all the knobs in his father’s fingers, the wrinkles in his knuckles. He didn't want to look at his face, because he knew that if he did, he would see him as an elderly man rather than Dad. He hated it when that happened, when he fell into that headspace... Just seeing people as people, just looking at them for exactly what they were, with all the familiarity and memories stripped away from them. "Just let me take care of this. I have everything under control."

Raph frowned a bit, not entirely sure if he believed him.

"We have a good life, Raphael. I need you to let me keep it that way." He said. "And to trust me enough not to get involved. Please."

He didn't look at Leo or Donnie this time. Something in his gut was screaming at him that this wasn't the move. The words Dad was picking here felt... off. But the way his voice sounded... He swallowed thickly, and then slowly nodded.

"Yeah. Okay, Dad. We trust you."

Far beneath the city, below the concrete, below the subways, below even the sewers, the world eventually became city again-- Hidden below the oblivious humans above. At the edge of this city, a small vine grew from the soil, slow and silent, just at the seam of a brick wall. Ever-so-carefully, the vine grew and expanded, pushing itself upward, dark and veiled in violet veins.

The vine pressed itself up against the stone wall, curling unnaturally upward, and a bit of stone cracked in response, falling away to the soil below.

The vine pushed further.

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#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowaufic #fanfic #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt human au #tmnt human au #rise raph #rottmnt raph #turtle tots #fidgetwing

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fairykazu · 3 months

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[ 1 ] 𓇼 TWILIGHT ZONE content warnings: strong language, mommy issues word count: 2.8k previous ⋆ masterlist ⋆ next

“Raiden. Raiden Scaramouche, please report to the office.” Scaramouche raised a brow, confused. He knows that he’s a delinquent, but it doesn’t mean he pulled pranks and atrocities all the time. Besides, what’s the point of even calling him to the office? The school year is ending, finals are over, and summer is rolling in.

Childe, or what Scaramouche likes calling him, a parasite, turned to him, “’Mouchie,”

Disgusted, “Don’t you dare call me that! I know where you live.”

Scaramouche’s threats used to be more terrifying but the more you get to know him, you’ll know that they were only used to scare you off; he’s just all bark, no bite. Most people’s faces would fall immediately, running off to pick up the dignity they have left. But Childe isn’t like most people; unfortunate for Scaramouche since Childe is used to his sharp words since middle school, Childe only laughed off the threat, getting used to Scaramouche's empty filled threats. He's all bark, no bite. “So What did you do this time?”

“How the fuck am i supposed to know?” Scaramouche replied, being as confused as him. The indigo haired male rolled his eyes as his friend’s empty ones glanced to the side who was avoiding his gaze,

“Sheesh, my bad.” Childe replied, holding up his hands to defend himself.

“Raiden Scaramouche, please head to the office.'' The speaker spoke again as Childe tugged him in the direction of the office. The fluorescent, bright lights flickering above Scaramouche, he yanked off Childe’s hand off his sleeve, “whatever.”

As the bell rang for the next class, people stared at Scaramouche while he walked to the office. not because he’s the infamous guy who causes trouble just to cackle at the faces of terror, but because he’s beautiful. Scaramouche isn’t being full of himself though; the case being more evident when he saw someone raise their phone at him... with flash.

Well, some people would think that Scaramouche is full of himself for saying that, but have you seen Twitter, or hell, even, Tiktok? So many unsolicited pictures or videos of him being edited and being posted to Lana Del Rey or Chase Atlantis. The comments on those videos are like the reign of terror. Scaramouche considers those comments more terrifying or scary than whatever Scaramouche and “his” goons do during school.

Arriving at the office, he meets eyes with one of the office hags, Xianyun, who greeted him with a thin lined smile. She didn’t even look him in the eyes, just clacking away at her screen. This is why that old bitch has glasses. “Hello, Mr. Scaramouche.”

He scrunched his nose, leaning back, her words were laced in saccharin, too sweet to be sincere. Scaramouche hated her fake pleasantries especially when they’re both aware of how much they don’t like each other. Small talk and being polite for the sake of being nice annoyed him, pretending to be nice isn’t as polite as people may think. Cutting to the chase, he crossed his arms, “Why was I called? I didn't do shit this time.”

Watching the fine lines wrinkles in her face creased, she looked away from her screen. She made direct eye contact with Scaramouche. It doesn’t matter if her gaze might be too hard to handle, he lives with the CEO of the Raiden Shogun Corporations…

or known as his mother.

Now, he got her attention. she sat up straight, pinching her nose bridge. The older woman gritted her teeth, “Mr. Scaramouche, please do not curse in a school setting. as it goes against the rules; it may disturb others with sensitive ears. please go to the principal morax’s office, i’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

Scaramouche smiled a little not because the older woman dissed him, but because there was no longer an uncomfortable barrier between the two, but instead something he was comfortable with, bitter and straight forward. “Whatever.” he quipped back, giving the amount of attitude the office lady gave to him.

As he walked past her desk, she mumbled under her breath, “Fucking brat.” Scaramouche pivoted on his heel, “Oh, Miss Xianyun,”

The office lady turned her chair towards his direction, despite dying her hair, she would definitely grow more gray hairs after this. “Please don’t curse in an educational setting. it may disturb people with sensitive ears.” Watching the woman’s face twist into annoyance as he chuckled quietly to himself. Serves her right!

He walked into Mr. Morax’s office; it looked the same as always. A big, stuffy office with no a/c but the only room without flickering lights and a bunch of old man decorations on the shelves and some pictures of his kids— Scaramouche squinted at the framed pictures, Xiao and Ganyu. Wow, what a great parent unlike some people. With a frown adorning his face, he greeted the principal, “Hey.” Throwing his backpack on the carpeted floors, he pulled out one of the two brown chairs in front of the older male’s desk, slouching in the chair. Mr. Morax didn’t pay any attention to Scaramouche’s attitude, which Scaramouche liked or disliked? The principal treated him like everyone else, but he wasn’t dismissive of the indigo haired male’s distracting actions. “What’s the problem?”

Mr. Morax explained the issue to him, resting his gloved hands on the desk, “Your mother had called and said that she’s pulling you out of school early due to technical issues.”

Scaramouche's face twitched, his mother? What the hell does she want? “What?”

“Yes, she said that she’ll be there in twenty-” Mr. Morax scooted his chair towards his computer which had a yellow sticky note attached to it. He peeled it from the screen, reading the rushed handwriting, he corrected himself. “— I apologize, in ten minutes, your mother will pick you up. please grab your needed essentials and go home.”

Scaramouche wanted to argue back, not wanting to face his mother and the consequences that come with it. but he glanced at Mr. Morax's eyes, knowing that even if he fights back, the old man will have his way and it would be worse than it would have been initially. “Fine.” He didn’t mean to say it so bitterly, but he did. but the real question is why did he react like that?

Was it because he viewed that man as his “father”? He wanted to laugh at himself. Don’t be stupid. He slung his backpack, his mood becoming grouchier than before. Out of the office, sitting on the golden yellow benches that had been graffitied before being painted back to its boring solid color. Despite wearing sweats, the temperature of the bench seared him as if he was salmon, but instead finding a seat in the cool shadows, he's just as stubborn as his own mother.

He stayed in the same seat.

Beep!

A Cadillac honked at Scaramouche just before he got up to curse out the car. it was his mother and most importantly, her girlfriend in the driver seat. the pink haired hag, yae miko who taunted Scaramouche that she would take his mother away from him forever. Well, to be fair, it was a joke and she always meant it jokingly, but Scaramouche was eleven who didn’t know any better. He took that joke too seriously. but of course, there’s other instances where yae pulled that pissed him off. He'd rather not get into that, otherwise, it would be a long day.

“Scaramouche, get in the damn car, we don’t have all day.” the pink haired hag hollered. she could be even louder the way she spoke, waking up the damn archons from their rest.

“Shut up, hag!” is what Scaramouche wanted to reply with. But instead, Scaramouche grumbled whatever, opening the door. He saw his youngest sister, Mikoto, the prized daughter who would get the seat of CEO in the company. If that little shit wasn’t born, he’d be the one being praised and loved. the one above the rest instead being the one among the others.

When Scaramouche sat down, buckled in his seatbelt. He took out his phone, plugging his ears with music. In his peripheral vision, his sister Mikoto whispered to her older brother, “Good afternoon, Big brother.”

Even though he wasn’t paying attention, he knew what she said. the dyed haired male recoiled from the title. He never accepted her as his little sister, why did she think she had the place to call him that? boiling it down to being all his mother and yae’s fault, they must be forcing a bond between the two of them. “Don’t call me that.”

“Ah, I'm sorry, big– Scaramouche.” his little sister flinched back, fiddling with her braids. Even though he did feel a little guilty, Scaramouche shifted to the side, looking through the window.

When Scaramouche arrived at the house, his mother took him into her office whilst yae went somewhere with mikoto. he was seated in the velvet chairs in front of her desk. Unlike the behavior he has at school, he’s more polite. Sitting in the chair, no manspread and he adjusted his collar. His mother was in front of him, writing something down. With the way his mother was talking to him, stern but firm, he thought, Maybe I am getting that CEO spot instead of Mikoto.

“Kunizukushi.” Oh!, she’s using the family name instead of “Scaramouche”, maybe he is getting that position. “As your school year is coming to an end and summer is coming up, I believe that you aren’t ready for the CEO position. Instead,” she placed a sticky post it note in front of the male. “You will go to auntie nahida’s summer house to help her out with her duties in fontaine.”

Whatever remaining pride scaramouche had crumbled before him, he no longer had a reason to keep up a façade, his mother already knows, they already know. “What do you mean I’m no longer fit for the CEO position, mother?”

When he was born, as if he was a puppet, ei shaped her son as someone who would take over the family’s business. but as he grew up, she saw that he wasn’t fit for the position, other than being empathetic towards others but he was too like her sister, who was forced to be in this position. She didn’t want that kind of responsibility on her son’s shoulders.

As Scaramouche's voice got louder, his mother kept staying calm. “Don’t you use that tone with me, Kunizukushi, I say this with all the love in my heart that you are simply too empathic to work as the sole owner.”

The tension between the two only grew worse; as the indigo haired male stood up, making his chair fall behind him. He said through gritted teeth, “I've been working for this my entire life and you’re throwing it all away because I'm too “nice”? you think that’s fucking nice? Have you seen how people perceive me in school? Have you?” if she had seen him as the infamous sixth member of the group he was a part of, the Fatui, they would call it. When were people making eye contact with him? in the hallways, in class, in the locker rooms or hell, even outside of school.Those idiotic people were in fear. in fear of the troubles that Scaramouche would wreak havoc over them.

“Just because you are seen as terrifying there, it doesn’t mean you aren’t empathetic. you aren’t fit because you are prone to your emotions. You don’t control your feelings, they control you. Kuni, you will be sent to Nahida's summer house by tomorrow, pack up.”

Scaramouche's eyes twitched, “What?” Despite his tone, he was tapping his foot on the carpeted floor.

Her voice grew more stern, holding her ground. He played with his fingers, nervous of the outcome even though he knew what was coming. “Don’t talk back to me. Return to your room and pack up, you’re leaving tomorrow. Take the note with you.”

The tension was as thick as the fog on Tsurumi Island. Just before Scaramouche scoffed at his mother, he took the note from the office.

“Whatever.”

When he left the office, making sure to slam the door behind him. Although his room wasn’t far from the office, it felt like it was dragging on. He trudged through the hallways all the way to his room, ignoring the family portraits that stared daggers into his back.

The moment he walked into his room; the weight of the tension was lifted off his shoulders. He laid on his bed followed by a sigh of relief.

What a day. What a total waste of a day.

Scaramouche wondered if his sister wasn’t born, would he be in the position? Or would it be doomed in every universe. He rolled to his side, burying his face into the

He burrowed himself into his blankets, not caring to take off his “outside schools”. Years of training to be the exact leader for the company wasted just because of some stupid reason. Scaramouche's dream ever since he was a kid was to take over. But after this talk with his mother… correction, “mother” is not even her name, Ei.

after that?

he doesn’t even know if it was really his or her dream.

[Morning]

Someone knocked on the door, “Scaramouche, get out of your room.”

“Piss off.” He mumbled, mostly out of habit. The person– probably Yae chuckled.

The sun peeked through his blinds; he groaned as he fought the struggle to slip back into his bed sheets. A pang of realization hit him when he remembered that he didn’t pack at all. God, Ei would be a pain in the ass. He burrowed out of his bed, his head peeking out to find a luggage already set and ready to go and his step-mother was leaning at the door, “Scaramouche, I packed some of your things. Your aunt has some clothes or swim shorts for you at her villa. Don’t be an ass to her and you’re lucky that your mom wanted to play nice with you.”

Yae continued, pulling the comforter off Scaramouche’s body, he shivered, yanking the blanket back and pulled it over his head. “Get up, the jet is ready for you.” She crossed her arms, “If you go, I’ll put a good word for you to Ei.”

Despite knowing it was bait to get him out of bed, Scaramouche kicked the comforter off of him and walked to his bathroom. Yae looked over his shoulder, pointing out, “Your roots look rough. Oh! There’s a white hair.” She plucked a white hair from his head, he tossed a glare at her, she only laughed.

“Are you leaving?” Scaramouche asked, on his way to his bathroom. She hummed out a reply but he waited until he heard the door closed. He stared himself in the mirror and shit, Yae was right. he does need to redo his roots, his natural black hair peeking out. There isn’t any time to retouch it, he’d do it later when he comes back from the vacation to his aunt.

Even though he is ready to go, physically. He isn’t mentally, not getting why his mother is sending him on a getaway trip. He laughed at himself, pulling his luggage into the jet. every other kid would be happy that their mom is sending them off to some place with beaches, Scaramouche just wants to ensure his spot that he was born and meant for. it��s his role. no one else’s.

Well, that is what he insists on. The jet was comfortable at least. Fluffy blankets draped on the seats, a pillow on each one and a basket of snacks on the table tied with a bow and a card. His mother decked out the private jet with things she thinks her son would like. From miniature snacks to different kinds of gifts to “make up” what she did yesterday, parental guilt. It always gets them somehow.

Scaramouche picked up a bag from the small basket, opening it as he picked up the notecard from his mother. “Kunizukushi, I apologize for my behavior yesterday. But you will understand why I sent you to your aunt’s when you’re older or hopefully, when you’re more mature.”

“‘when you’re more mature’? I’m even more mature than you old ass hag.” Scaramouche mumbled before pausing. “Nevermind.”

He opened the window’s blinds, seeing his sister leaning on Yae’s hand, she waved goodbye to him. He shut the window immediately and cracked it open a little. When Yae wasn’t looking, he waved back, he guessed that older sibling guilt is quite similar to parental ones. Leaning on his hand, he fell back to the much needed sleep.

Maybe she was right. He needed this.

taglist [ open / bold means i cannot tag you]: @practicoi @saccharine-sucks @veekoko @aruastu @jllyfsh-lvr @scaranthropy

#summer flows — vidia’s series !#genshin impact x you #astronetwrk #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fluff #genshin impact #wanderer x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for being engaged to my former best friend's ex-girlfriend after he cheated on her with the girl who bullied me and was my fiance's best friend?

I(29M) am engaged to the most amazing woman ever (27F) for 7 months now. We will call her Naomi.

You see she used to be my ex long time f best friend's girlfriend (We will call him Marcus) They seem to be a happy couple when they were together and I used to think they made a great couple back then too. There was one problem though, Naomi was best friends with this girl (we call Zoe). Zoe made my life back in our school days a living hell. She didn't like me because I was a redhead and took every opportunity to hurt me or scar me, even put gum and glue in my hair, thankfully my cousin was a hair stylist and got it all off. Once I went off to college I didn't have to worry about her until Marcus started dating Naomi. She still mocks me, but was very subtle about it.

Marcus knew what Zoe did to me throughout our school days and has stood up for me time and time again. Back then, I thought he understood and was my big supporter and a brother I never had (I have 6 sisters) I was hoping him and Naomi would get married and I'd be the best man at their wedding. Naomi was nothing like Zoe, she's a total sweetheart, a literal angel and pretty intelligent. She and Zoe we're best friends since College.

But then on my birthday, I discovered that he was sleeping with Zoe when I went to visit him to go out for drinks. It was like I was in a twilight zone or a horror movie or something, seeing someone who I thought was my best friend on the couch getting it on with the one person who traumatized me and made my life hell. I got angry and yelled at him, demanding to know how can he do this. Marcus try to explain himself and beg me not to tell Naomi, but I was having none of it and left. I don't know why, but I started to cry.

I called Naomi and asked her to come over to my place. Once you saw me, she knew something was wrong because she saw them my eyes were red and I was agitated. She wished me a happy birthday, to which I reply "I wish it a happy one..." when she asked what I meant by that, I told her about Marcus and Zoe. She thought I was lying, but realize that I was telling the truth after she put two and two together why my eyes were red and I was agitated. She started crying and was heartbroken. Marcus was her first boyfriend and he cheated on her with someone she thought was her best friend. We both cried together the betrayals. Since then I have cut Marcus out of my life and Naomi cutting Zoe out of hers.

When the pandemic first hit Naomi didn't have nowhere to go because her lease what's up and she couldn't return home ( She was from Washington) and I offer her a place to stay. To be honest, we were getting along as being roommates. We took turns cooking and did our equal share of chores and pay bills. We even found out we have a lot of things in common and randomly, we just ended up falling in love with each other. I even introduced her to my family, close friends and some co-workers I am close with. On New Years of 2023 I proposed to her and she said yes.

Well, here we are in the present, I found out that Zoe tried to contact Naomi while she was out to lunch with my sister and tried to get her the break up with me so they can be friends again, saying things like I wasn't good for her and that she will help her find a new guy for Naomi. For what my sister told me, Naomi told her " Why? So you can sleep with that guy too? Sorry but I refuse to become friends again with a backstabbing sl*t" And hung up the phone. Now you can see why I love this woman.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from an unknown number. Turns out to be my ex best friend Marcus. Word had gotten around that me and Naomi are engaged and Marcus was furious, asking 'How could I get together with his ex and why would I betray him like that?'

I reply with "Excuse me, who do you think was the one that betrayed me and Naomi? You betrayed Naomi by getting with her best friend and you betrayed me because you knew what she put me through and you knew how she treated me. You are in no place to get angry with me when you were the one that betrayed the both of us first. Second, me and Naomi haven't contacted you in 4 years, how did you get my new number?"

He told me that it didn't matter and said that he thought the two of us have gotten over that already and that he was trying to get back together with Naomi. That's when I said " the only reason you're trying to get back together with Naomi is because Zoe dumped you after she caught you cheating on her with her boss, right? I heard about it from your brother. I guess Zoe wasn't enough for you that you had to sleep with her boss? And that her boss wants nothing to do with you because it was only just s*x for her? Who's to say that you're not going to cheat on Naomi again? It's your fault for letting such an amazing girl go in the first place. You never appreciate what she done for you, don't ever contact me or Naomi again! In fact, don't even come near us, you are dead to us!"

I couldn't help but feel guilty about what I said. I know I shouldn't but I do. Naomi said not to worry about it and smiled at me since we are getting married next month. But, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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tw1l1te · 1 year

Text

Whispers From the Sky: Chapter VII

A/N: Hello!! I hope your holiday season has been good so far! Here is the chapter that I promised, which I am so pumped about the whole secretive cult-like setting that I have going on. Please let me know your thoughts on the story so far! Happy New Year’s!!

Warnings: Mentions of Scarring, Blood

Within the next half hour, everyone was making requests for genres of music to put on next.

Warriors became a big fan of Taylor Swift within minutes, and Legend was even nodding along to some Nirvana.

Wind, Hyrule and Sky loved songs with an acoustic guitar, Twilight taken a liking to Foo Fighters, zoning out when listening to Everlong.

Wild loved all of the songs, but particularly liked early 2000s pop. Hell, even Time was nodding along to some songs, but you would use that to tease him later.

The evening was in a lighter mood. While Wild was preparing dinner, You, Wind, Four, and Sky danced to some country music, bursting out in laughter when Four got tangled up in Wind’s shenanigans. Eventually, Hyrule joined too, so all of you decided to make a circle and join hands, moving in one direction while trying not to burst out laughing and lose their footing.

This was nice. You were positive that the boys haven’t had such goofy and carefree behavior in a long time. Even if that was the only thing that you could do for them, it was enough for now.

Wild called out for dinner, each member graciously taking a portion of the meal and sitting around the fire. You didn’t pay attention to much of the conversation, just happy to see the interactions within the group.

You looked up to see the Goddess statue towering over the group. The light of the campfire flickered shadows all over the statue, tricking you into seeing a shift in the facial expression.

Focusing back on the group, Time was focusing on you, a concerned look on his face.

You shook your head.

It’s nothing.

You managed to ignore your urge to look at the statue until after supper, when everyone was setting up their bedrolls for the night. Looking around, The younger ones have fallen asleep, quietly snoring away.

You were setting up your bedroll, but not to sleep. You had some investigating to do.

Knowing that Time always took the first shift, you can avoid questioning… hopefully. It seemed like watch would take place just outside the front entrance of the temple, so your footsteps or walking shouldn’t grab any unwanted attention.

You laid in your bedroll for about 20 minutes, making sure that everyone was settled in before you would go to the statue.

This is the exact location in which your dream took place, you were sure of it. You just had to see if it actually had something to do with the statue.

You had made it up to the statue, narrowly avoiding Sky as he flopped over to his left side, his hand accidentally hitting your shoe.

You took out your phone, snapping some pictures of the statue to look at later, because you sure as hell can’t see much. You felt around with your hands trying to see if the statue had a lever, button, crevice…Anything to prove your dream meant something.

“May I ask what you’re doing”

ShitShitShitSHITSHIT

You turned around.

“I-uh couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to explore a bit,” you answered, hoping Time would take your lie.

“You and I both know that’s not true. Does it have something to do with your vision last night?” he asked.

“Yes. This is the exact location where it happened, though a different time. Yours, I think. Something in this temple has to do with the shadow, I just know it. I just… need to figure out how to get there, if ‘there’ even exists…” you murmured, trying to figure out what to do.

“...Where?” Time asked,

You looked back up with him, determination written all over your face.

“Under the Temple of Time.”

“That’s impossible. If I remember correctly, the Temple of Time didn’t have such a complex structure. I believe that you have been mixing up dream and reality, Miss Y/n,” Time murmured, careful to not wake up any of the boys.

You shook your head. There is no way the dream you had last night was a mere coincidence. Surely Time knew of visions and high beings sending messages.

“So you don’t think that me talking with the shadow is weird? Or that my ring has been missing ever since that dream, and I never take it off.” you said, showing him your hand. And sure enough, no ring.

Time sighed.

“Look, I understand that a belonging of yours went missing or stolen, but believing that your dreams mean something is a stretch. I’ve been through dreams and reality far too many times to count, so I think that I can tell the difference. I would recommend that you go back to sleep, as we have another long day tomorrow, but I can’t force you.”

Time headed back to his post before you could respond.

Though you were tired, you won’t give up that easily.

C’mon, Y/n! Think! How did you get below the temple?

Feeling around on the back wall, you tried to find some sign of a lever or mechanism that could open the door, wherever it may be. In the dream, the goddess was covered in blood, her own or whoever it may be, it seemed to trigger something.

You weren’t keen on the idea of blood sacrifice, but you were willing to try.

You needed to get some sort of blade or sharp edge to draw some blood from your finger. Though you could do your palm, you didn’t want to wake up Hyrule to stitch you back together.

You felt guilty for snooping in the group’s things, but certain things had to be done.

You finally found a small blade in Twilight’s pack. It was very detailed, silver casting on the handle that had engravings incise into it, but it was too dark to tell.

You quickly made your way back to the statue, holding out your hand in front of you.

You made a small slice at the tip of your finger, quickly collecting blood.

You connected your finger to the front of the statue, closing your eyes and listening to the surrounding sounds.

You felt a pull from your hand that had the burned Triforce. You hesitated, but quickly placed your palm flat onto the surface of the statue. The blood felt warm. Too warm.

It felt as though your hand was radiating heat, despite you not seeing anything. Suddenly, white cracks started to peek through the Triforce, illuminating your hand.

You were terrified, and yet, amazed. You had never witnessed such a thing.

Your moment was stopped when you heard a gasp.

Turning around, you saw the entire group staring at the light, bewildered with what was happening. Time was already running towards the group and you.

“Time, what’s happening?” Hyrule asked, never looking away from you.

Time looked just as confused as Hyrule and the others, lacking a verbal response to the boy’s question.

You focused back onto your hand, which seemed to… fuse? With the statue?

Panicking, you started your arm, but your hand wouldn’t budge.

Holy shit. You’re gonna die. For like, the fifth time in three days.

Noticing your panicking, Time ran towards you, grasping your arm and pulling.

“I swear to god, if you’re gonna cut off my hand I’m going to kill you!” you yelled, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Hylia, let me GO!!!” you yelled, which seemed to work, considering your bleeding hand was yanked back.

You stared back at the statue, a bloody hand print staining the marble surface.

Hyrule rushed up to you and wrapped your hand in gauze, but you were too in shock to process that.

Before you could speak, the floor beneath you started to open, shaking the ground slightly.

Time yanked you back, narrowly avoiding the dark abyss of stairs. You held onto him for dear life, hoping that Hylia would make all of this end.

The moving finally stopped, which was met with silence from everyone.

“Ok, what the actual FUCK?! What the hell did you do?!” Legend screamed, hands rapidly motioning towards the hole in the floor.

“I have no fucking clue! I was just trying to figure out how to get below the temple, since my dream had me go down there with the shadow-” you rambled.

Everyone’s head snapped to yours, shocked at what you just said.

“I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to be jumped by everyone, like I am now!

You sighed, running your unharmed hand through your hair.

“If my dream means something, then we should probably go in.”

It took a few moments for anyone to agree with you, internally debating whether or not this was a good idea.

“Even though I don’t know exactly what your dreams mean, I do think it’s a symbol. From Hylia. This has never happened before, and I’m not sure when or if it will ever happen again, so going down would probably be the best option,” Time stated, looking at everyone in the group.

Warriors would not have it, however.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! A dark staircase opened up that has never even existed and now you’re expecting us to go down there-”

You stepped in.

“I don’t think this passage opened up for no reason, Warriors. Although I really don’t want to go down there, I have a feeling that it will help us towards finding the shadow, wherever he may be.”

Warriors sighed.

Everyone quickly went back to their bedrolls and collected their belongings, making sure to light some torches so they could see where they were going. You took the time to give Twilight back his knife, which he quietly thanked you for.

You stayed quiet the entire time, guilt taking you over.

You knew they were exhausted and you just had to wake them up to involve them into your stupid nightmares. They’ve already been through so much in their lives, which they didn’t even have the choice to do. So much has been taken away from them, and you just added another burden onto their shoulders. If someone got hurt, you can’t even imagine how much guilt and inner turmoil and grief you would feel.

You felt your eyes burning with incoming tears, but you refused to let them fall, not wanting to make the situation more bothersome than it is. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

Once everyone was prepared, Time and you headed in front of the group, since you needed to remember how to get to your destination.

Despite being terrified of her, you prayed to Hylia all of you would come out unscathed.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe au #yandere #lu #linked universe au

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look-how-they-massacred-them · 10 months

Text

Preliminary Poll

Funtime Freddy

Submission reason:

i'm going to lose my Fuckign mind okay. fanon screws with him a lot too but only because of the stupid books. in the game series funtime freddy is very loud and eccentric and overly cheery/friendly but It's Five Nights At Freddy's(tm) and he was made by PuRpLe GuYe⁉️😱 so he's got the capacity to kill kids in particular. mind you he never Actually Does That in the games despite what nonsense you may hear he just was made To Do That as the end goal. and is generally only "aggressive" in the game itself bc he thinks the player is The Man Behind The Slaughter Himself etc etc and well not even that man's own robots like him. i cannot stress enough however that funtime freddy is a sweetheart and the personification of YIPPEE! he loves parties and surprises. he has a hand puppet named bon-bon who helps him calm down and whom he adores and is so sweet to. he'd kin pinkie pie if he knew about . kinning. or pinkie pie. Do you understand But Then the book series Fazbear Frights basically tells me, personally, to go fuck myself with count the ways, which stars my beautiful angel on earth being a complete fucking edgelord for no reason in particular and hanging onto his pre-established personality by a thread as he kills a teenage girl after Evil Infodumping to her about methods of execution??? what was that about. where am i. He Spoke French that should not be allowed. they kept describing his voice as "deep" when he literally sounds like speaking after breathing in helium. This Is Hell. so NOW everyone treats him like the most evil sadistic creature ever and will pull out every ableist description they can imagine when talking about him (oh he's PSYCHOTIC? he's a SOCIOPATH with NO EMPATHY? Actually Buddy He's A PASTEL COLOURED ROBOT BEAR!!!!!!) and this stupidity just gets hammered in by the Clusterfuck that is whatever the Shit And Fuck is going on with the lore Nowadays that makes me want to pass away. if you look online for any analyses or wiki pages or whatever about him now they're all going to say he's like the end-all-be-all of evil bc he's so murderous and he Loves It Lots And Lots. and then you pan to him and he's sitting there literally Giggling like Teehee For Men. i'm going to lose it. what did he do to deserve this. what did *I* do to deserve this

Propaganda:

his voice actor is autistic hence proof he is too (definitely sound logic). he's literally the autism creature. he's got a stutter and it's endearing to me. despite any Media Illiterate Takes that may suggest otherwise Upon his and the other sister location animatronics' escape from the underground rental facility He (and the others) just fucked off for 40 years. just vibing. literally him and the others Banned the one animatronic that had a bone to pick and a vengeance or whatever to fulfill from their club their Squad their Clique so they could just hang out in peace. i feel like i'm in the fucking twilight zone every time i see or hear anything about him nowadays because it feels like nobody else retained anything. in one ear out the other for 99% of this fanbase. i'm ready to do some bite of 87 shit

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my boy #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fazbear frights #funtime freddy #sister location #fnaf sl #fnaf sister location

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floosies · 4 months

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Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

steve harrington x poc!fem reader

summary: always the babysitter, but has the father figure found the mother figure to help put up with the nonsense?

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, fluff, cursing, (p.s. despite mentions of s4, eddie is still alive here)

a/n: stevie deserves the world and if a fic is how to do that then so be it. merry xmas to my favorite golden boy ❤🎄☃️

tagging: @reidsbtch for the beautiful moodboard 🤍

The holiday season in previous years for the Harrington's meant trips to Australia or Florida, anywhere else where there isn't midwestern cold air blowing around them. Steve would begrudginly string along, forgotten in a hotel room or given spending money and told to have fun in the resort.

It was 1990 now though, and at 23, he was spending this Christmas at his own place with his own traditions now. One of which was choosing a Christmas movie or show to watch as a group. Though his and Robin's place was considerably small they always made it work. This year however Home Alone had just come out and the plan had been to get tickets on a night everyone could make it.

Only scheduling was becoming hell, everyone had plans or work. The Wheelers were planning a family trip with the Byers, Eddie had gotten a new job with more hours so his uncle could have some more rest time, Robin and Vickie as well as Lucas and Max were planning family centered stuff, which left the always trustee Dustin to promise Steve he would go with him.

It was all he would talk about to her, how everyone else had basically ditched him and here he was again relying on Dustin to step in. She heard him intently as they shelved vhs tapes onto the tinsel topped displays, "how do you think I feel? This is my first Christmas away from home. Although I do enjoy being able to hear Wham singing and not my folks yelling over it." She quipped as he sighed, his eyes rolling, "at least your parents hung around for the holidays, I think mine are in Florida right now." She shrugged, "oh Steve lighten up tis the season and you have little Dustin to cheer you up." She further taunted him by throwing him one of the candy canes from their small tree they had on the check out counter.

She'd moved to Hawkins earlier in the year with the only goal of surviving on her own away from her previous situation. Within a month she was hired at the Family Video and met both Steve and Dustin in the middle of a heated debate about batteries and star wars. It was Dustin who vouched for her to join their friend group especially after seeing her homemade twilight zone pin and weird al cassette in her car. However he only ever regretted it when he got into trouble, because now he wouldn't hear the end of it from her and Steve.

Considering Dustin, he had come in before the store closed, ever thankful he ran into her first and not Steve. His face worried and guilt ridden, "what'd you do this time dusty? Am I going to have to talk to your mom again?" She joked as he mocked back, "that was so not cool, but no. It's about the movie night with Steve...I messed up." She was curious now but before she could ask what he meant, Steve had come up from the back of the store, "Henderson you better be ready to get all the snacks dude, we are going in heavy this year since-" catching a glimpse of Dustin's sour face he stopped his ramble, "do we need to talk to Higgins and your mom again?" Rolling his eyes he shook his head, "again totally uncalled for and embarrassing. You guys didn't need to be there" She quipped back "Then why are we on your emergency contact list?" He groaned, "whatever anyways no, that's not why i'm here. I'm sorry dude I royally screwed up my schedule -" "No. No. No! Not you too!" Steve cried out in frustration, "I literally had to beg Keith to give me Saturday night off." Dustin felt like shit about this, "I'll make it up to you I promise. It's just Suzie is coming down from Utah with the whole family and my mom has this whole dinner planned. I'll bring her by so you can meet her!"

She really felt bad for Steve now. He was genuinely hurt by now, it was written over his face. In the back of her mind she knew better but before she could regret it or overthink it, the words flew out of her mouth, "I'm free Saturday night if you still wanna go see that movie? I still haven't been to the theatre here so it would be cool to see the rest of Hawkins?" Steve looked at her about to decide whether to shoot down her kindness or ask if she's serious when Dustin speaks, "problem solved! Thanks so much! You guys'll have all the fun in the world. I got run." He started for the door with a 'merry holidays!' as he ran out and back into his mom's car.

Steve took his hands into his face with a loud sigh, "I was being serious Steve you literally said you did this every year, don't let the tradition fade out because those gremlins can't make it." He looked up at her, "well I guess it couldn't hurt." She smiled at him nudging his side with her shoulder, "see theres the holiday spirit. I'm going to start getting the store ready to close now though." He watched as she walked off to start turning off the window lights while thinking about how happy she seemed at his approval. He didn't want to read too much into but could it be that she might like him?

What was she thinking? Sure he was cute but from what everybody had mentioned so far, he was some sort of big shot around the area. He did say yes though, but it was probably a pity yes, still she could always say it was some christmas kindness is all. That's what she told herself for the rest of the week, because deep down she wasn't sure what to make of him entirely.

He spent the rest of the week pestering himself with the notation, the very idea that maybe he had missed something entirely or he was so full of himself that he was misinterpreting the whole thing. Robin was tired of hearing the same ramblings at work and as he dropped her off at home, "don't be a dingus, dingus. She literally said she wanted to go with you, she even brought up having zero plans." He shrugged as he pulled up to Robin's house, "I mean what if she just feels bad for me?" "Oh I think we all feel bad for you." She said opening the car door, he rolled his eyes, "ha ha laugh it up." Slamming the car door behind her she looked back through the car window, "it's gonna be fine Steve."

Saturday came by way too quickly for both of them. After multiple outfit changes and hair stylings they both found themselves waiting for the other. Well Steve found himself waiting in front of her apartment door with flowers in one hand and the other in his pocket where he was fidgeting with his car keys.

When the door opened and he saw her in a black mini skirt with sheer tights and a red knit sweater. She had clearly done something right based on the look he was giving her, "hey Steve those for me?" She asked pointing to the bouquet in his hand. He suddenly came to again, "yeah. Yes! I mean yeah, got these for you, I umm...I didn't want to come empty handed?" He was messing this up already, but in her head it was cute how nervous he seemed, She took them gently from his grasp, "well that was very kind of you. Now I feel bad I didn't get you a gift." She stepped back waving for him to enter. He shook his head, "no no, you tagging along to my misery parade is gift enough." This made her giggle, "c'mon it won't be that bad. Plus everyone is saying this movie is really good." He groaned out in frustration "yeah which was why it was so hard to get some damn tickets." She had placed the flowers on a coffee table behind her, "well lets get going then. Don't wanna miss those trailers." Before they could step out he stopped her, "think you need a coat first." Shit, there went the cool look she was going for, "oh yeah. One sec."

For two adults, they both seemed to come off like thirteen year olds, while they did enjoy the movie, they were sneaking glances at each other much than they were paying attention to kevin mcallister's boobytraps. Still they found themselves laughing at the mayhem the kid was making. She hadn't heard Steve ever really laugh like how he was laughing now and it made her smile, no wonder all the girls of Hawkins were into him. Which just made her that much more nervous. He had felt just as nervous since their hands had accidentally touched while trying to get popcorn at the same time.

The movie was great, as expected and they left the theatre in happier mood even arguing about which trap they could make while they walked around the town. It had happened gradually that their arms were linked together while he showed her around adding small stories here and there. Despite the cold and the dark of the night, it was still fairly early but Hawkins was small enough that all the nice scenery could be seen in a half hour or so. They headed back to his car when he suggested the idea of food, "we could get some burgers or a pizza." She perked up at the idea of spending more time with him, "I just got this new christmas record and a new tin of hot cocoa mix?" He smiled at the idea, "take out?" She nodded.

They got the food and headed to her place. The conservation continuing on about both the movie and the stories he'd told her. It'd been a while since he'd felt this comfortable with someone. Maybe it was the hot chocolate or her very decorated home, but he felt good around her. She felt the same way though, he hadn't made her feel the need to keep her guard up. Into their second mug of cocoa she quipped, "you know, you sure do know how to show a girl a good time." He let out a breathy laugh, "I sure hope so. I was worried I was going to bore you to death. By the way you looked great tonight." Her eyes widened in a playful manner, "is that so? Well so did you, that sweater is pretty cute." He smiled at her, his eyes linger onto hers.

The moment grew while the christmas music played in the background, her hand reaching for his as they sat on her couch. His hand also inched closer towards hers, in a soft voice she spoke up "so...christmas tradition saved?" Matching her tone Steve replied, "oh totally, in fact made even better." There it was again, the laugh he was growing to love more and more. They looked at each other a bit more, his thumb rubbing circles over her top of her hand, in the same hushed tone he mustered up the courage to ask, "am I reading this moment right?" She simply nodded, he leaned in closer towards her "got any mistletoe in here?" With a small shake of the head she spoke, "oh I don't think we need that now." Closing the gap their lips met into a tender kiss they didn't pull away from for a while.

#steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #christmas fic #imagine #steve harrington fic #happy holidays!

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