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#probably will write a comfort fic
stevebabey · 9 months
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totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
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goldiecastelia · 1 month
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WHERE ARE THE FANFICS!?!?!?!?!?!? FOR ALL THAT IS MOST SACRED, WHERE ARE THE FANFICS?!?!?!?!?!?! It could even be an alternative universe, but please make fanfics!
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tennessoui · 10 months
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brain will not let me sleep until I say
same age padawans au where they’ve been in a weird wired frenemies thing for ages but now that they’re both mature adults (all of 24/25 years old) they’re more friends than enemies….
And it’s Obi-Wan that Anakin tells when he’s decided he’s going to leave the Order, not anyone else. He has a wife. There was a pregnancy scare a few weeks ago and it made her want their relationship to stop being a secret so they could really have kids. He has to leave the Order. Doesn’t Obi-Wan understand?
Obi-Wan, who has been a little in love with Anakin since they were younglings, does not understand. Not one bit. Instead of wishing him well and helping him pack, he goes to the Council and requests a mission in the Outer Rim….perhaps a month long or more…perhaps undercover? No contact with anyone on Coruscant. And maybe they could assign Anakin Skywalker as his back up? He can help with the undercover aspect.
And at first, Anakin is pissed because he was planning to resign from the Order in the next few days, but Obi-Wan convinces him to go on this mission with him….one last mission as a Jedi. To say goodbye to the Jedi life.
Obviously, Obi-Wan sort of wants to go on one last mission with Anakin because in his dreams, he wants the mission to go so perfectly that Anakin stays with him the Order. But realistically, he mostly wants to go on this mission to say goodbye to Anakin and then let him go, soaking up all his warmth and light, memorizing every casual touch bestowed on him because he knows they’re ticking down to the last handful of seconds together.
But then obviously the mission works TOO well and Anakin falls in love with Obi-Wan but doesn’t admit to it even to himself before they’re on the ship about to head back to Coruscant and Anakin realizes he doesn’t want to leave this planet because he doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan if it could always be like this so he crashes the ship during take off so they can stay longer because he’s 24 and doesn’t know how to handle the immensity of his love except through destruction
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stellexpress · 2 months
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extremely biased because they're my favorites but god i think damsel/tower would be such a fun combination
damsel: don't you just adore the sensation of your heart beating? all i want is to make him happy ^_^
tower, an equally fragile vessel, dispassionate as a result of her divine ascension, and disgusted by any acknowledgement she's still bound by flesh and desires: how i pity thee
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valiira · 7 months
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his everything ◦✧・゚
◦ tags; simon 'ghost' riley x reader, soft ghost, short and sweet, couple paragraphs, comforting, sfw, caring, heartfelt.
He never says ‘I love you’. Of course he, the Ghost himself, would show it in every other way he possibly could. Making your tea with two sugars in it, cooking your eggs just how you like them. He knows you like the little fork or how you like to sit on his left by the window to soak up the sun. He knows you prefer his black hoodie over is navy blue one. His love language was remembering everything you loved. Ghost didn’t have much in this world except for you and that’s all he ever needed.
Now all he whispered were those 3 little words into the frown of your hair. “I love you…” His raspy voice echoed out. Thick accent barely hiding the hurt behind his words. A previous mission gone bad and now you lay pretty messed up in a hospital bed. The way his voice and fingers trembled gave you the idea that he had feared he had lost you forever.
His hand was ever shaky as he gently grasped your own. And in this moment you soaked up every word he muttered. You don’t know how long you had been out for or what exactly had happened, but you didn’t care in the moment. The only thing that mattered was Simon being there with you. You squeezed his hand weakly, managing a hoarse response.
“I love you, too.”
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nostalgia-tblr · 2 months
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"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.
#jsyk sylkius or anything adjacent to it does not “Do Numbers” in any way and i observed this some time ago#i assume that's the “rival ships” element at work but who knows really#that sort of thing is like femslash in that everyone approves of it but nobody actually reads or writes it#but who would have thought sylvie beating loki with a stick would not bring in droves of readers???! shocking twist there!#& i don't consider sifki a rarepair but my rarepair standards are VERY strict like if there's >5 fics a pairing is basically mainstream#chasing popularity would annoy me though & i just don't have the mental spoons to try writing stuff i wouldn't personally read#yeah i *could* put my blorbos to work in a coffee shop but what cost to my own enjoyment levels? AT WHAT COST FANGELA???#you can't please everyone so you may as well just please yourself and if anyone else likes it you've found some fellow freaks so yay#i don't mean please yourself in a wanking sense. though feel free to do that too it probably counts as a cardio workout idk.#BUT ANYWAY#fic related#ps i am v glad there's the “warning: loki” tag because i think/hope it acts as a filter for 'he did nothing wrong in his life ever' types#who are Valid & etc obviously but i write my morally grey characters to be morally grey and the tag might help avoid conflict#though tbh i write almost every character to be morally grey in some way so i can't claim to have left my comfort zone here#(i'm not joking when i say the 1987-89 run of Dr Who shaped my entire future fannish life from a young and apparently v impressionable age)
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siliconforbrains · 3 months
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Okay, it's like 10pm on a work night and I haven't had any coffee today so my thoughts are a little scrambled BUT. I WAS THINKING.
(About In Stars and Time of course I'm always thinking about that game)
A couple of years ago, at the height of Steddie -my sister was big into it and recced me some fics okay- I read this fic about Steve dealing with time loops ("The one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting" by badpancake) and there was this specific detail about the epilogue that stuck with me.
It was the idea that, once the time loops were done and over with, people would slowly start to remember bits and pieces of what happened in earlier loops. After being fractured for so long across dozens of timelines and experiences and outcomes, time was finally healing, and broken shards of lost memories would find their way back into people's minds.
And that got me thinking about a post-game what-if scenario where the same happens to the gang as they travel through Vaugarde.
Like they still don't remember everything -just bits and pieces. Experiences so emotionally charged that they found a way to cross the sands of time and reach them again.
The question is, what would those memories be? The first answer that comes to mind is some of Siffrin's deaths, of course. I can't imagine watching your friend get pancake-d by a boulder would be pleasant, nor witnessing them turning their own dagger to themselves. Or offering him a slice of your favorite snack only for him to go into anaphylactic shock in front of your very eyes, for that matter!
But there would be other instances too, wouldn't they? Death is not the only thing that shook them to their core. What about their first death to the King? Or Bonnie's fate at the end of Act 3? What about basking in the blissful feeling of victory against the tormentor of your land only to turn to look at your friend and know something is very, very wrong?
What about fighting through the House with a party of 4 instead of 5, bloodied, confused, staring in the face of the King knowing you're about to die and wondering why your friend left you all when you needed them most?
I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but I've been rotating this concept in my head since this morning and thought I'd get it out on here so y'all can suffer with me tehee
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idk-bruh-20 · 1 year
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Irondad fic ideas #125
AU where Thanos never happened and the Rogues eventually return. They've been pardoned and they're supposed to get the team back together, but there's still tension. A lot has changed.
Tony has told them repeatedly to never call in Spider-Man for backup. Steve doesn't understand or approve. He assumes Tony is just holding a grudge, trying to keep this new, obviously powerful recruit on his own side. 
One day, Tony is caught up in SI business somewhere when a mission comes up, and they need extra hands. Steve decides to call in Spider-Man.
At first the mission goes smoothly, but then of course things take a turn. All hell breaks loose.
Tony taps into comms not long after to tell them he's on his way. He's left his meeting and is flying as fast as he can, though he's still a long way out. Somehow, Tony figures out that Peter is there. (Maybe he overhears Peter quipping, maybe Steve casually references Spider-Man.)
One way or another, he figures it out. He goes deadly quiet, then switches to a private comm with just Steve.
Tony is betrayed, aggravated, terrified and trying to bury it (and not doing a very good job), and honestly kind of bitter and insulted that Steve can't hear his obvious fear. Steve is annoyed at Tony's childish stubbornness, assumes the man is just mad at things not going his way. Still in the midst of battle, he dismisses Tony's concerns.
Then, Spider-Man gets hurt. Bad. Tony had already been frantically trying to get there faster when he heard the kid was there, but he still doesn't arrive in time.
At some point -- maybe there on the battlefield, maybe later in med bay when Steve arrives to chew Tony out for leaving with Spider-Man instead of staying to help -- at some point it becomes abundantly clear that Peter is Tony's son.
(Bio, adopted, emotional, doesn't matter)
It becomes clear that Tony wasn't making Spider-Man off-limits for selfish reasons. Steve, blinded by his own view of Tony, was unbelievably wrong. 
It turns out, he had just been trying to keep his son safe.
Bonus:
If the reveal does happen later in med bay, there could even be a moment after the battle where Steve, fuming about Tony's lack of help and general inability to be a team player, is intercepted by Rhodey.
Maybe Rhodey arrived just after Tony (flying from the same meeting, but Tony freaked out and raced ahead) and then stuck around to help finish the fight. His reaction to Steve's unempathetic and baseless reading of his best friend is stone cold.
Bonus 2:
Steve fails to notice or understand Rhodey's meaning. Then he gets to med bay and is faced with the image of Tony holding a sleeping Peter on the hospital bed, glaring right across the room at him.
Both of them completely aware of what Steve had assumed, all these years, about the kind of person Tony was
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dreamerinthemoonlight · 4 months
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Tears on Yujing Terrace
Summary: You watch Liyue Harbor from Yujing terrace after a nightmare. Zhongli comes to comfort you.
CW: hurt/comfort, references to SA, nothing graphic but people sensitive to that may want to skip this one, pet names (loveling, little gem, my gem)
Word Count: 764
Pairings: Zhongli x gn!reader
Requests and Asks are OPEN
You are cold, despite it being the middle of summer and far south of Snezhnaya. The lanterns that line the street shine in soft yellows, oranges, and reds, but as is often the case on nights like tonight, the warm glow does nothing to chase away the shadows of your recent dreams. 
Even this late at night, Liyue Harbor teems with life. And yet, you find that no crowd can break through the loneliness that cloaks you like a second skin.
And so you don't bother to try. 
You make your way to Yujing terrace, returning a guard’s greeting with a tense smile when you pass through its gate. The Millelith assigned to the terrace have long since memorized your name and face, and have often served to ward off any unwanted company.
You cross Yujing Terrace, taking your usual place at the far edge.
From this vantage point, you can see half the city, the people there seeming so small, so far away.
You stand in silence, listening to the wind coming off the ocean while you chase your thoughts in endless circles.
Eventually you hear a familiar pair of footsteps approach you.
“Y/n?”
You turn to find a pair of molten gold eyes, glowing with gentle intensity. “Zhongli? Why are you here?”
“Why would I not be here? I woke up and you were not there. Why did you not wake me, loveling? Do you not wish for my company tonight?”
You shrug, wrapping an arm around yourself. “It’s not that. Tonight has been a bad night. I didn’t want to bother you.”
Zhongli sighs, coming to stand next to you. “My gem, helping you through a bad night is never a bother. Will you allow me to stay?”
Your thoughts turn to the nightmare that drove you out of your shared home and the cold that has surrounded you since you left deepens. “Please. I really don’t want to be alone.”
Zhongli steps closer and you lean into him, letting his embrace warm you.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter.
“Whatever for?”
“Not waking you. I know it worries you when I do this.”
Zhongli runs his fingers through your hair. “I know the kind of torments your subconscious mind conjures. I would not leave anyone to suffer them, least of all you. I will listen if you want to tell me about it.”
You stiffen in Zhongli’s arms.
“If not, that is fine as well,” he assures you. “I promised you that first night that I would not force you to talk about your nightmares, but I will always listen when you do.”
“I just… it was one of the really bad ones. It wasn't the kind that scares me, but the kind that haunts me for hours after I wake up. Even if I push it away and think about my work for today, as soon as my mind drifts I remember. I don’t want to remember.”
As you speak, tears spill down your face, soaking Zhongli’s nightshirt.
The adeptus sighs, pulling you closer. “If I could banish these nightmares, I would. I do not like seeing you suffer.”
“I think… I should probably tell you about it.”
“It may help, love.”
You tell Zhongli of your dream slowly, halting over your words. When you’re done you’re nearly sobbing. “I don’t know what was worse, seeing the girls and the anger I felt, or being left behind. Alone. Unable to act against that bastard, but also vulnerable. Now that I think about it, I was left alone and had that guy wanted to do to me what he did to the girls…”
Zhongli rests his cheek on your head. “Next time, my love, please wake me. I cannot keep the nightmares away, but I can comfort you after.”
“You do keep them away, some,” you admit. “Usually when I’m as stressed as I’ve been, they’re nearly nightly.”
“And yet you still have ones like this one.”
You shrug. “Sometimes they can’t be helped. I’ve seen what you look like after yours.”
“Mine don’t happen nearly as often, my love.”
“They still happen.”
You fall silent, listening to the steady thump-thump of Zhongli’s heart, letting it ground you.
After several long minutes you pull away and lace your finger together. “Can we go home now?”
“Of course, little gem. Let us go home. Do you want to go back to bed, or would you rather I make tea first?”
“Tea first, please.”
“Consider it done.”
The two of you leave Yujing Terrace, unaware of the smiles the Millelith send your way.
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arson-09 · 20 days
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hi guys. I really love tamlin. Like hes become one of my favorite book character’s ever, probably one of my top fictional characters over all and shhshdgshd
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Maybe if I post a WIP I'll be motivated enough to finish it before tonight
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💌 hi everyone! i just wanted to apologise for the longer wait than usual for the next chapter of four walls. life’s thrown some pretty difficult stuff my way over the last few months, and i won’t pretend i haven’t been struggling. as always, writing has been a big solace for me, but it has been a bit of a slower process due to everything that’s been happening. that being said, chapter nine is very nearly ready now and i’m hoping to get it posted in a few days (it’s also somehow wound up being 15,000 words, so hopefully that’ll make up a little for the wait)! thank you so, so much to everyone who’s left comments/kudos/messages over the last couple of months, i truly can’t tell you how much it’s kept me going. i’m so excited to share the next chapter with you soon, things are about to get VERY interesting! 💌
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the-baby-storyteller · 8 months
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If you’re still doing bthb… would you want to do tortured for information and cradling someone in their arms for gen whumpee/caretaker? Maybe even painful wound cleaning thrown in for fun ✨
I am, and I like how you think!
(Fun fact, I didn’t register the gen at first so I wrote this whole thing as romantic.🥲 But then I fixed it so, enjoy!)
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BTHB - Tortured for information
“I’m not going to tell you anything!”
A eyed the torturer carefully as they stared off at one another.
“So stubborn.” Torturer tutted, “So foolishly stubborn.”
They circled around their chair, eyeing A calmly.
“You do understand that I won’t take no for an answer?”
A growled and tugged their chest against the ropes holding them to the chair. They glared at the torturer.
“Then you’ll be here for a while.” A remarked.
“Oh, dear,” Torturer said, chuckling, “it’s you who’s going to suffer more from be being here for a while, not me.”
They pulled out a taser.
A stiffened.
Without warning, the torturer jammed the taser into their chest.
Instantly A convulsed, simultaneously not sblr to move at all.
The pain was excruciating. They couldn’t see, couldn’t think. They felt blinded by the pain as they struggled but couldn’t get away. Just when it started getting hard to breathe, it pulled away.
A fell forward as much as they could with their restraints, heaving in breaths and coughing.
“Shall we go again?”
Before they could look up, Torturer thrust the taser to their neck and this time it hurt much more. They screamed, face twisting and tears streaming down their face. Their muscles spasmed and they felt like they were choking.
Torturer didn’t stop this time. They didn’t let A breathe as they came closer, pushing the taser further and further into their neck, never giving them a break for minutes until A was a stiff yet limp, warbling mess under them.
After an interminable number of minutes, Torturer finally pulled back and A’s muscles loosened for a split second before seizing, twitching and convulsing. They gasped trying to gulp in breath but every movement of their throat made their muscles scream.
Torturer moved behind them and grabbed their hair, taking their head back and so painfully straining their sore throat, and they choked.
“Who has the key to the hideout?” Torturer asked coldly.
“I a- already told you-” A stammered, weakly forcing out words.
“I know,” the torturer narrowed their eyes, “you were lying. Now tell me.”
“Who knows how to get in to our base.” They pulled A’s hair harder with each punctuation. “Which one of your filthy teammates infiltrated us?”
A’s lips trembled but they stayed silent.
Torturer walked around and kicked them in the gut, drawing a painful yelp out from them which only tore up their throat further.
“I’m not-“ A gritted out, breathing heavily, “Telling you anything.”
“Are you sure about that?”
They looked up. The torturer had brought out an assortment of absolutely terrifying looking knives. Some had spikes, some were long, almost like swords.
“Which one should we start with?” Torturer asked, relaxed.
They picked one up and twirled it around in
“Let’s see how long you last.”
A shuddered. This was for them. For the team. They wouldn’t give up, no matter what. They were strong. They would hold out.
- -
Three hours later and was no longer just screaming.
Their whole world was blurry. The torture never stopped.
Their body was bloody; Torturer had carved into their arm and tasted right onto their insides. Every team member had held out for torture before, was experienced in it, but this.
They barely knew where they were they were so bloody disoriented. Everything was hazy and all they could register was pain pain pain that never went away and only got worse because Torturer never stopped-
“What a bore. You’ve held out all this time.”
Torturer pouted, then brightened.
“Shall we amp it up?” They asked.
Amp. It. Up? What kind of amping was worse than three hours of torture?
Then they saw it. The water tub.
Torturer hauled it out from under a table, dirt and grime floating in the water. A wouldn’t just choke. They’d swallow everything in there too. A turned white as a sheet.
“N-no please,” they started blubbering, “you don’t have to- we don’t have to do this-“
“Oh, but we do,” Torturer said stalking forward, “unless you decide to tell me what I want to know.”
They couldn’t. They couldn’t. But they couldn’t hold out and drowning terrified them but they couldn’t betray the team-
They started hyperventilating as Torturer just smiled and just drew closer.
A closed their eyes as they tensed against the ropes, mind fighting internally as they grappled with the fact that the torturer was about to waterboard them-
Debris flew everywhere as the door burst down. A’s head flew up just as five figures swarmed in through the doorway. They instantly pounced on Torturer, yelling furiously, and the water tub fell to the floor.
The team.
Thank all that was beautiful.
A stared in disoriented awe as the team swept through the area. They hadn’t thought anyone would come for them. A let out a little sob.
“Shhh shhh.”
They turned, coming face to face with B. A’s glossy eyes struggled to see them, but they just made out B’s face and they hiccuped a breath.
Caretaker’s face looked just as distressed, but they hid it better.
“Come, we need to get you out of here.” They spoke, “You shouldn’t be here any longer.”
They registered that their ropes were now somehow cut, and Caretaker pulled them, (more like dragged their entire weight), out of the room.
- -
“We���re so, so sorry we let this happen. It should have never-” B growled under their breath. “Torturer.”
A didn’t want to hear it anymore. They just wanted to be safe, to feel to warmness and assured comfort of B arms around them. They were finally out of that terrible room, laid on the floor with B knelt next to them in a different one of the chambers they had been led through. The whole place was safe now; the team had wiped everybody out before getting to A. Before A could control it, they let out a little whine.
B instantly turned back to them. Even in their mess, A burned with embarrassment. Why the hell had they done that?
B smiled lightly, thought, shoulders dropping and losing the stress they were previously holding.
At least I could make them relax, A thought.
Slowly, their eyes started to well up with tears.
“Oh, Whumpee,” B gasped, “Come here.”
B drew A into their lap and brought their arms around them. A’s muscles ached, and their crying picked up, and B stroked their hair, muttering softly:
“It’s okay. It’s okay, I know. We’re here now. I’m here. You’re not going to be hurt, you won’t be hurt.”
“It-“, A started, throat clogged by distress, “it was so hard and it hurt so much and I was so scared-”
“Shhhh,” B soothed, drawing a hand down their chin, bringing them back from hyperventilation, “Shhh, it’s okay. Calm down, we’re here now.”
A’s sobs turned into sniffles as B continued whispering sweet, comforting words into A’s ear.
“It’s all alright, I know, I’m so sorry,” B said, softly wiping away tears from A’s pain-stricken face, “You did such a good job, you’re so good, and we’ll never let that happen to you again. It’s alright now.”
B continued to pet their hair as A calmed down.
“Listen, I need to asses you, okay?” B said when A was a little bit more coherent, “I saw the stuff they had back there and it looked…bad. So I need to examine you and have you respond and comply. Can you do that for me?”
A hesitated, but nodded slowly, gingerly.
“Good job. Very good.” B praised.
A exhaled shakily. They were safe. Safe with B.
A heard B turn and mutter to themself, we can’t deal with the tasing now unfortunately, and look back over to A.
“I saw the water.” B started. “You didn’t inhale any of it did you?”
“N-no, I-,” A stuttered,” “you guys came before Tort- they could make me.” They muttered quietly, digging their chin into their chest.
They thought they saw B’s jaw tick but by the time they looked up to confirm it was gone.
“Okay,” B breathed out. “I can definitely see some injuries they’ve made.” B said unpleasantly. A’s weakened state was the only way they resisted gulping nervously. They didn’t like B when they were angry.
B pulled out their extensive first aid kid they always made sure was filled to the brim with supplies A didn’t even know existed.
“We’re gonna have to clean these cuts. They’re pretty deep and that room was not the pinnacle of cleanliness.”
A froze, then started up.
“W-wait no please,” they begged, straining against B’s arms encircling them, “Don’t it’ll be too painful I can’t, no- You don’t have to, do you-”
“Hey, woah, wait,” B’s eyebrows shout up as they held A down easily, A’s muscles too worn out and weak to do anything even mildly strenuous. B held them more securely on their lap, making them squirm, fighting B.
“Hey, no fighting me.” B scolded and A let out a pitiful cry. “I know, shh, I know it’s painful and scary. But I have to do it, you know, okay? You know this.” They reached their top arm over, grabbing alcohol and a pad. A whimpered.
“It’s alright.” B tried to soothe. “Can I get help over here?” A heard B call to a teammate who must have come in recently. Soon they were backed up against another guest and held in place firmly with arms stronger than B’s. They wiggled and worked, but the arms tightened and they yelped, quickly dying down and letting their body go limp in their teammate’s arms.
The alcohol pad was brought to the deepest cut on their arm and they immediately screamed. A felt their body tense up with effort, and couldn’t help themself from again struggling against their teammates. But their muscles were silk and hard and every movement hurt, only making them cry out more.
“A, you have to calm down.” B implored, Please try to be still. You agreed to comply, remember?”
A sniffled hard, tears streaming down their face as they heaved and choked. Their breaths were closer to shudders and they trembled in their friends’ arms.
B didn’t wait for them to say yes.
The second time the swab hit their arm, it went even deeper, and they only got to see blinding white light for two seconds before they passed out.
- -
A woke up go a light, soothing pressures appeared on their head. It pressed and nudged and soothed the tension perfectly and they let out a sigh despite themself.
They opened their eyes and saw B’s free hand massaging their scalp. B smiled down at them softly.
A blinked, then looked around. They weren’t in the chamber’s rooms anymore. Now they were in a tent, their team’s tent.
The team must have moved me back, A thought, trying not to blush at the embarrassment of a teammate holding their limp form.
“Sleep.” B voice pulled A back to their gaze. “When you wake up again, I’ll still be here. Rest.”
A wanted to contest, to make B speak about what happened and tell them everything whumper said and how in danger they were-
But B’s hands only added more glorious, perfectly placed pressure to their scalm and their limbs loosened without their permission as they exhaled, sinking deeper into B’s arms.
“Sleep.”
A shuddered, the last of their body’s energies expending themselves as they finally, finally, had reached safety, and they went limp as all went black.
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y-rhywbeth2 · 1 month
Note
I'm curious if Durge's bad ending is, assumedly, becoming soulless like Imoen in Baldur's Gate 2 and becoming feral, would there be any way to save them from their situation after the fact? (of this is a dumb question, I apologize ❤️ I just love your blog.)
Seems slightly more soulless Charname than Imoen, what with Bhaal giving you personal attention and trying to turn you into his mindless vessel.
I'm not sure about saving them - but this is D&D, so probably. In BG2 the cure was getting your soul back (your other two potential fates were horrible wasting death, having your mind consumed by Bhaal - that was it). This doesn't apply to Durge, though, as they didn't lose a soul. They do have one, or at least the start of one, because Jergal might spot it in epilogue dialogue, but unlike in the rejection ending he doesn't cut it loose from Bhaal.
As Withers is aware of the deaths of all beings, and is almost certainly aware of Bhaal puppeteering his spawn around the corner plotting murder, I chose to believe that the party is also a trap meant for Durge. Whether the intention is to destroy them, or lock them away so that Bhaal can't use them, or to somehow extract Bhaal from Durge... who knows, but sometimes I like to imagine it might be the latter, and Durge gets support and a million years of therapy.
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sad-leon · 10 months
Text
Just Let Me Live In Despair
[I don't wanna wait for Ao3 to come back, so I'm just posting this straight to tumblr]
Summary: Leo had promised Raph that he'd stop with the self harm. These promises are not so easily kept. Fortunately, Leo has a family who loves him unconditionally.
Tags/Warnings: Discussion of Self harm, Depictions of self harm, Unreliable narrorator, meltdowns/breakdowns, Hurt/Comfort, Leo-centric
(no beta, so please dont be too harsh on any typos)
Wordcount: 2497
~~~
”Promise me, Leo, please.”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” Leo sighed as he wrapped his forearm before sliding his sleeve up and over the bandages.
Raph sighed.  “Do you even know what you’re promising?”  There was a hint of desperation in his voice.
“I promise to no longer cut my arms when I’m stressed.”
Raph smiled.  “Thanks, little brother.”
Leo hummed as Raph wrapped him in a hug.  He knew this was not a promise he’d be able to keep.
-
Leo growled as he stomped through the crowded venue.
Stupid crowd.  Stupid anxiety.  Stupid ADHD.
It was stupid really.
Leo was supposed to be walking with his brothers toward a Jupiter Jim booth during the most recent convention after New York had rebuilt itself.  They didn’t even have to wear disguises.  It was supposed to be fun and relaxing!
But nope.  Leo just had to get distracted and wander off toward a booth that caught his eye without saying anything to his brothers.
As he neared the booth, he noticed the pins and charms on display were of characters that looked a lot like himself and his brothers.
“Oh, are you a fan of the Turtle Heroes too?”
Leo jumped and stood straight up, staring at the artist behind the booth.  “Oh.. uh, Turtle Heroes?”
“Yeah…?  That’s who you’re cosplaying, right?”
Leo looked between the artist and the charms.  He suddenly felt as if everyone had turned to wait for his answer.  His hands started to itch as he tried to come up with a reasonable answer.  “Umm.. yeah! Yeah.  Sorry, I- uh.. I didn’t know anyone else knew of.. them?”
Luckily the artist accepted his stuttered response.  They shrugged.  “Yeah,  I tend to get ignored whenever I try to talk about them.”
Panic settled in Leo’s gut.  That meant this person had seen them outside before, probably during the invasion.  Who else had seen them, then?
“Hey, you’re shaking.  Are you okay?”
Leo snapped back to attention and tried to ignore the itch that had taken over both his forearms.  “Uh, yeah.  Sorry.  I’ve got- I’ve got to go.  I like your art, by the way.”
He quickly turned and walked away before the artist could respond.
“Hey-” Leo cut himself off when he realized he couldn’t see any of his brothers.  “Oh.. uh… okay.”
He glanced at the ceiling and tried to orient himself.  Now, if he just walked forward, he’d find his brothers, right?
If he just kept walking…
If he just…
“Fuck,” he hissed when he passed a booth he’d already passed.  He glanced at the ceiling.  He was not facing the right way.  “Of course…”
Standing on his tiptoes, Leo spotted a door that led outside.
He obviously wasn’t getting anywhere, so he might as well leave.  The others would notice he wasn’t there, eventually.
Quickly, Leo stomped toward the door.  He scratched his arms.  He knew this feeling, but the promise he’d made Raph echoed in his mind.  He wouldn’t give into the urge to claw his arms open.
Pushing the door open, Leo almost broke into a run as he found a secluded alleyway.  He crouched down and took a breath.  “Okay.  The guy who beat the Kraang getting lost in a convention and running away is not a good image, but who's watching, anyways,” Leo hummed to himself.
He pulled out his phone, intending to call Donnie.  His twin would either give him directions, or come find him and they’d go home.  Silently, Leo was hoping for the second option.  He really didn’t want to go back into the building.  Even the thought of going back made his anxiety sky-rocket.
Leo tapped the power button.  Nothing.
Again.  Nothing.
Fuck.  How did he forget to charge his phone?  Oh, Donnie was so going to kill him.
Before Leo could focus on that thought, irritation bubbled through his veins, resulting in a low growl.
He needed to hurt.  The anger was just beneath his skin and he needed to let it out.
No.  He promised Raph he wouldn’t.
But the itching was getting worse.  It hurt.
It hurt to not hurt.
Leo shook his hands, trying to shake the feeling out.
It wouldn’t leave.
If anything it was getting worse.
“Fuck!” Leo yelled and swung his arm to the side, smacking it on the edge of a dumpster.
A choked hiss escaped Leo as he cradled his throbbing hand to his chest.  God that hurt, but… the itching was gone.
Leo looked at his hand.  No obvious bruising or swelling.  He tried to make a fist and winced.  Okay.  Not fists… or holding things for a while, but he’d be fine.
He’d be able to deal with it.
Taking a breath, he gathered himself and started toward the nearest manhole cover.  Donnie would pull up his tracker and see back home at some point.
Leo hoped they would have fun.
-
Leo was awoken by a consistent poking of his face.
“Hmmm, wha-?”
“Oh good.  You’re awake.  Now.  Would you like to explain to me why we turned around to find you missing only to pull up the map and see you back in the lair?”  Donnie was standing with his arms folded right next to Leo’s bed.
“Good morning to you too, Donnie,” he grumbled.  His hand was throbbing.
“It’s been three hours since we came back to find you asleep.  Raph insisted we let you get some rest before interrogating you, but I have run out of patience.”
Leo felt a twinge of annoyance at his twin.  This was not how he wished to wake up after the shitty time he had earlier.  “Woulda texted.  Phone was dead.”
Donnie huffed.  Before he could say anything else, his comm beeped.  “Saved by the crime alert, dear brother.  Hmm.  It’s not an emergency, but we should probably go check it out.”
Dramatically, Leo sighed and lifted himself off his mattress.  “If we must.  Gimme a few minutes, I’ll meet you guys in the kitchen.”
“I’ll tell Raph and Mikey.”
Leon watched Donnie leave before he looked down at his hands.  The one he had hit barely looked swollen.  Okay.  That’s… good.
He flexed his fingers and bit back a his as his right hand hurt from the movement.  That was less good.  He tried to make a fist.  It hurt, but he could do it.
It would have to do.
Raph wouldn’t have to know.
Besides, Leo should deal with the consequences of his actions.  Maybe then he’ll learn to stop hurting himself.
-
Leo was tired of the Foot Clan.
The two leaders were still missing, but the remaining members had formed their own factions, it seemed.  The Foot did not seem content with letting the turtles rest, so once again, it was up to a group of teenage brothers to put a stop to whatever chaos the Foot was trying to start this time.
“Hey, do you guys wanna take a vacation?” Leo hollered toward the small group of ninja trying to sneak through the alleyway.  “You’ve been committing crimes for what.. a few years now?  Surely you can take a week or two off.  Get some rest.  Relax~”
A knife soaring by Leo’s head made him shut up real fast.  The ninja were silent, but they had stopped trying to sneak away.  Leo’s hand throbbed.  He might have preferred if they just left during his speech.
He really didn’t want to fight.
“Leo,” Raph hissed.  “We talked about this.”
Leo just shrugged.  “Sorry bro, old habits and all that.”  Leo realized his mistake as soon as he said it, so before Raph could put the pieces together, Leo jumped down to engage the Foot ninja.
He tried to use only one sword, but the ninja were stronger than he expected.  Even as his brothers joined the fight, Leo was forced to pull his second sword out.  And man, did his hand hurt.
The fight went on for longer than Leo would have liked.  His hands were shaking and his right hand was going to give out if it didn’t end soon.
Leo had finally gotten the upper hand of the ninja he was fighting when he caught sight of one of the ninja trying to sneak up on his eldest brother.
“Raph!” Leo screamed, but he knew his big brother wouldn’t be able to do much against the sneak attack.
Leo ran, but the only way he’d be able to deflect the attack was if he swung with his right sword.
Biting his lip, Leo swung.  As soon as there was pressure on the sword, his hand gave out and he dropped his weapon.  He brought his second sword up to defend himself, but he wasn’t fast enough.  A sharp pain erupted in his right shoulder.
In a flash of blinding light, the Foot ninja was gone and Mikey was shaking, standing in front of Leo.  “Thanks, Mike,” Leo whispered.  His attempts to hide the pain he was in were futile.  His little brother saw right through his stupid facade.  Maybe the sword sticking out of his shoulder wasn’t helping his attempt to be fine, either.
“Leo!” Raph cried and turned around to hold the slider.  Leo could barely make out his big brother's face as his vision blurred.  The worry made itself clear enough in just Raph’s words, though.  “Why did you do that?!  What even happened?  You had your sword, right? What..?”
Even though he wasn’t seeing clearly, Leo could see Raph connecting the dots.  Donnie beat him to it, of course.  The overachiever.
“’Old habits', huh?”  He reached into Leo’s bag and grabbed what he needed to be able to take care of the wound as they removed the sword.  Leo bit down a scream at the pain.  “And enlighten me, ‘Nardo.  What old habits are we talking about?  Because I don’t think it’s just the bad jokes.”  Donnie didn’t hesitate for a second before grabbing Leo’s right hand.  He applied pressure to the side Leo had hit, making Leo hiss.
Mikey made a noise from the side.  “Leo?  What happened?”
Leo frowned and hummed.
Raph sighed and gently picked the slider up.  “We’ll be talking about this, but for now we need to get you home.  Donnie, would you do the favor?”
“Already done,” Donnie said proudly just as the Turtle Tank pulled around the corner.  “Let’s get home so we can finish taking care of that wound.”
-
The next thing Leo was aware of was the steady breathing of his older brother.  Looking around, Leo noticed he was held in Raph’s arms while Donnie and Mikey slept near the bed.
Leo shifted and hissed at the pain in his shoulder.  Right, he got stabbed.  He remembered Donnie rambling about different galaxies as he stitched Leo’s shoulder in the tank, then it all went fuzzy.
“Guhh.. what time even is it?” Leo hummed.  He’d meant to keep that in his head, but oh well.  A small pit of guilt opened in his gut when Raph grumbled as he woke up.
“Leo..?  Leo!”  Raph quickly arranged himself and Leo so Leo was leaning against a bunch of pillows while Raph sat up, facing the slider.  “How are you feeling, little brother?”
“Like I got stabbed…”  Leo tried to laugh but it came out as more of a wheeze.
Raph frowned.  Leo jumped when he felt a hand softly smack the back of his head.  Donnie and Mikey had both woken up as well.  Donnie just glared at Leo as he brought his hand back down to his lap.
“Leo..” Raph hummed.  His voice was very soft and full of despair.  “You made a promise.”
Leo shrunk into himself.  “Technically, I didn’t cut myself,” he muttered.
“Same difference,” Donnie cut it.  “Self harm is self harm.”
Leo flinched at his twin’s bluntness.  Before he could say anything, Mikey spoke up.  “You were doing so well, Leo, what happened?”
Thinking back on it, Leo felt stupid.  He was alone and got angry so we flung his arm out and hit a dumpster?  How stupid.
“I had a pathetic breakdown behind the convention,” he muttered.  It was supposed to be laughed at.  No one laughed.
“You… you didn’t ditch us,” Donnie said.  Leo wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a question or an observation, but he nodded anyway.
“Well, I kinda did,” Leo muttered.  “I got distracted by a booth, but couldn’t find you guys, so I came home.”
“I’m sorry,” Donnie said.
Leo tilted his head.
“I was rude to you earlier.  I thought you left us on purpose.  It was smart of you to come home rather than risk getting more lost.”
Leo… wasn’t sure what to do with that.  “Thanks..?”
“So, what caused your… breakdown?” Mikey asked, Dr. Feelings shining through.
“I…” Leo considered lying, but decided it wasn’t going to do anything to help his case.  “There were a lot of people.  I was overwhelmed and lost.  I- my head was loud.  Everything was itchy.”
“Itchy?” Raph asked.
Leo nodded.  “That's why I did it so much.  It feels like my blood is itchy.  It needs to get out.”
“But you didn’t cut earlier?”
“No…”
Raph surprised Leo with a smile.  “That’s good.  Not good that you hurt yourself in a different way, but good that you resisted the urge to cut.  I’m proud of you.”
Leo couldn’t stop the tears if he tried.  “But I still hurt myself..”
“You did, but you didn’t cut, even though you felt the urge.”
The words were stuck in Leo’s throat, so he shook his head.
“...No?” Raph asked, confused.  “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Leo.”
“Shouldn’t- Shouldn’t be proud.”
Raph slowly wrapped Leo in a hug, giving him the chance to pull away.  He didn’t.  “This… this is a hard situation, but that doesn’t mean it has to be awful.  I’m not going to make this harder on you than it already is.”
Leo could see Mikey nod from the side.  “Raph is right!  Recovery is hard and full of ups and downs!  Just because we’re in a ‘down’ doesn’t mean we can’t go back up.”
Leo sniffed.  “Thanks, Mikey.”
Donnie put a hand on Leo’s knee.  “Perhaps, I can… I could make a sleeve that simulates the pain until you find another coping mechanism…”
“Really, Donnie?” Leo asked.
“Nod.  The pain is what helps clear away that itchiness, right?  If I could find a way to simulate it, then you can clear your mind during a breakdown without actually hurting yourself.”
“Wow,” Leo sighed.  “That would be awesome.  Thanks. Donnie.”
Raph tightened his arms around Leo slightly.  “Go to sleep, little brother.”
Leo hummed and let his eyes fall closed as he listened to his brothers talk a bit before they settled down.
“Oh, and Donnie,” Raph hummed sleepily.  “We are so having a conversation when we wake up.”
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skoulsons · 10 months
Text
“Ellie?”
She had kept herself closed off most of the day, doing as much as skipping meals, not sketching, and declining their routine movie night.
Joel turned the knob, opening the door only slightly. “Ellie?”
“What?” She bit. She was around the corner, still in bed.
He bit his cheek. “Can I come in?”
She sniffled, a mumbled yeah from around the corner to let him know it was okay. He entered, keeping the door somewhat open behind him. He found her on her back, covers pulled up to her shoulders as she stared at the ceiling, counting imaginary stars.
The look on her face was a sure sign, as any, that things were not good.
He sat by her feet, the corner of the mattress sinking down as he sat, her feet following suit and lightly falling against his lower back.
“Do you need something?”
Joel inhaled and exhaled. He kept his hands awkwardly in his lap. “I wanted to check up on you.”
“Why? I’m fine,” she grumbled, eyes still glued to the ceiling.
“You sure?”
She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t fine. Every possible thought about Joel, Tommy, Maria, Riley, Sam, or Henry that wasn’t positive made its way to the forefront of her brain, twisting everything she knew about them. Making her believe things that she was sure weren’t true. Convincing her of truths that were hard to shake.
Everything is still so new to them. Young and needing navigation and direction. Their relationship and being together now, no plan in sight of leaving or disregarding the other.
She has someone in her life now who cares about her. Who has cared about her for over a year. Someone who dedicates every single day to being present. Who always makes breakfast for the two of them. Someone who holds her when she cries and who lifts her up even higher when she’s happy. Who carries her to bed when she needs it and finds her new comics when he’s outside the walls. Who protects her at every moment and encourages her to eat and shower when she struggles.
Someone who loves her.
And that revelation is what makes these days even harder.
“Hey…” he nudged, turning his body slightly more towards her. “What’s goin’ on, baby?”
Ellie sighed, closing her eyes tightly, waves of colors forming in the black of her vision the harder she squeezed. She opened them, her eyesight wavering as tears pooled at her eyelids. The imaginary stars on the ceiling kept her gaze, still avoiding Joel’s concern.
“Today just… hasn’t been good.”
And while he knew it, hearing it from her still hurts to know. Whatever happened, it hurts to know she’s struggling.
“I think it’s been little worse than hasn’t been good.” It felt inappropriate to point out her near crying and the tight-lipped expression on her face in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay.
“I’m just… having fucked up thoughts,” she sighed, tracing all the constellations she knew into the white of the ceiling.
Joel didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to say.
Neither of them were the best at talking. Sharing something that pissed them off, frustrated them, or upset them and navigating that conversation in a healthy manner always felt like forcefully pulling teeth before they ever broke the surface of the gums.
Joel hopes his silence is an invitation for her to continue. He wants to help, to walk through what bothering her with her.
“I…,” she started, choking slightly on the syllable. “I feel like people don’t care. They don’t care, they don’t…love.”
Joel tilted his head to the side, eyeing her avoidant gaze.
Ellie brought her hand up and wiped it across her right temple. Her voice wavered, her lip quivering as she spoke, “me.”
Joel had an inclination, but hearing it still hurt all the same.
“I feel like people…” she paused, sniffled heavily. She lazily raised her arm off the bed in his direction, “you… don’t.”
Frustrated, Ellie sat up, her back making content with the headboard harder than she intended. She locked eyes with him momentarily before avoiding his gaze again, fixing hers around the room. Her dresser, a heap of clothes on the floor, her blinds, and the open door.
She stopped keeping her head upright and let the crown of her head fall back, banging against the headboard. She sighed, a wet, embarrassing laugh escaping her. “I… I know. I know you do. I do. But sometimes, I just… get convinced you don’t.”
She fiddles with her hands in her lap as her tears threaten to spill over, Ellie massaging her fingers and cracking her knuckles, even with nothing left to crack. She picks at her cuticles and nails uncomfortably, clearing her throat to get rid of the tight burning that has coated it.
“What convinces you?” Joel asked, his eyes looking twenty years younger—like he’s talking to someone else entirely. Like he’s held a similar conversation before.
His question stumps her.
And she realizes it’s nothing. Nothing has ever convinced her. Nothing could convince her that Joel doesn’t care about her. Nothing could ever truly convince her that Joel doesn’t love her.
He may get frustrated over something. He may be extra tired some days. He may spend a little more strength some days fighting his own demons that it’s hard to be there 100% for her.
But those things don’t mean he doesn’t love her. They don’t mean he wouldn’t lay down his life for her at any given moment. They don’t mean he doesn’t look at her with anything less than adoration, devotion, and appreciation for who she is. Who she is and what she has come to mean to him.
“Have I ever done anything-“
She cut him off. “No. No, no. Fuck no, never.” She threw the crown of her against the headboard again, a few tears spilling down the side of her face and flowing along her jawline. She hastily wiped them away, clearing her throat.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I guess I… don’t think I deserve it or something. So I look at you or Tommy or I… I remember Riley or Sam or anyone else and I… I think they don’t—didn’t care.”
She knows they do. Riley—she knows. Sam she knows. Henry, too. Tommy and Maria—she knows. Joel—he she knows better than any of the others.
“I remember them or I…” she brought her head down from her gaze on the ceiling and looked at him, clearly, for the first time. “I look at you and I wonder why.”
She cries. Her lips pressed together, not enough breath in her lungs to combat the tears falling down her face and slipping down her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt. She wipes and wipes and wipes until her tear-soaked hands can’t catch anymore and they flow freely. She dries her hands on her sheets and it’s still not enough to catch every single one.
Joel moves quickly, his right hand lightly on her shin as he reaches his left out towards her, keeping it held right above her lap for her to feel.
She can barely see, and yet she reaches out, knowing he’s there. Trusting he’s there.
She grabs his left hand with her right, holding it until her knuckles turn white and it hurts. Until it stings and her fingers go numb. Until her hand shakes and the blood flow is cut off from her fingertips.
He moves his right hand from her shin to press a fist into the mattress on the other side of her, scooting himself closer to her. He settles closer to her, bringing his right hand up her shoulder and eventually finding its home on her cheek. He strokes his thumb across it, more tears falling as she leans into it. She turns her head into it, her lips in his palm as he continues wiping her tears.
He pulls his hand back from her face and brings it to her other cheek, sliding his knuckles across to clear the streaks of tears. He returns his hand back to her other cheek, lightly scratching at the roots of her hair on the back of her neck.
Ellie grabs the collar of her shirt with her left hand, wiping the snot from her nose and using any drier part of her shirt to dry her neck and chin.
Joel lifts his left hand to bring up to her face, but a mumbled, snotty no keeps it in her lap, Ellie still clutching it.
She continues to sniffle, finally opening her eyes to see Joel looking back at her, a streak down the left side of his face, right by his ear.
“I’m sorry,” she says, quickly averting her gaze from his.
He smiles slightly, rubbing those all-comforting circles with his thumb over hand. He brings his hand up from her cheek as she closes her eyes, using two fingers to drag hairs down her forehead and tuck them behind her ear.
They didn’t need to be tucked away—but the affection always comforts her.
She takes his right hand in her left, bringing it down into her lap next to their other hands. She watches their hands intently as she rubs circles on his with her right hand and he rubs circles on hers with his right.
“Hey,” he whispers, trying to get her attention. It does, and she looks up at him. The tug on the corner of his lips reaches his eyes. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“No it’s… it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be crying over something I know isn’t true…”
“You know it’s not true?”
She inhales a shaky breath and exhales one just as heavy. She focuses on it, keeping any other tears down as best she can through controlled breathing.
“Yeah. Yeah I… I know.” She pauses for another breath. “But sometimes it’s… fucking difficult. I don’t…” she hesitates, shaking slightly, “I don’t want to look at you and wonder why.”
She chokes, wiping her cheek on the shoulder of her shirt. She feels her back against the headboard and adjusts slightly, rolling her shoulder blades over it.
She looks up at him. His eyes still hold that twenty-year-old look. They glisten because of the tears gathered in them, and the loving smile that hasn’t quite reached his lips has already hit his eyes.
“I’ll remind you. Every day, if I have to—if you want me to. Even if you don’t, I might jus’ have to-“
She laughs—giggles—at that. He laughs too, the kind of laugh that resides deep in his chest. The one that sounds better through his rare toothy smile. The laugh she only hears so often. The laugh when he thinks he’s done something right. The almost triumphant laugh when he seems to have cheered her up.
Ellie smiles, watching his own unwavering smile. “You can, if you think about it. I mean, I won’t expect it every day. If you forget some days, it’s fine. I’m not-”
“Ellie.”
“Sorry.”
Joel takes note of her. The dried tears along her cheeks. Her red and puffy eyes. The way her nose is red. The soaked collar of her shirt.
He doesn’t want to see her like this again. Not over thoughts like this.
“Will reminding you help? You know… keep thoughts like this away?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but it hits her that she doesn’t know. She’s never been positively reminded, certainly not daily, that someone cares for and loves her. No one’s been constant enough to tell her the truths she missed out on as a child. No one’s stuck around long enough for them to mean anything. No one has ever loved her enough to say them and mean them. Nothing other than doubt, hesitation, or reluctance has followed such reminders.
“I don’t know. I think, I… I hope. I don’t know, I’ve… never had someone who did something like that.”
He doesn’t frown at the thought, but his smile fades. Sadness, disbelief at the thought, the truth that she’d never had this before. “Well… we can try it out. You can tell me if you hate it ‘n we can try something’ else.” He smiled again as he rubbed more circles along her hands. “Sound fair?”
She smiles, tears welling at her eyes again. One spills over, Ellie fervently nodding in response to Joel’s question before too many more tears follow.
He lets go of her left hand and opens his arm up, welcoming her in. She scoots into him, tucking her body against him. She lets her legs freely fall into his as she leans against his body, his right arm coming across her back and holding her shoulder tightly. She keeps her face hidden away as best she can in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her right hand finds the bottom of his shirt, rubbing the fabric back and forth between her fingers.
Joel kisses her head, leaving his lips pressed into her hair briefly. “I just… I don’t want this to become something you know is true. Cause it ain’t.”
“It won’t. I… I know it’s not true.”
He kisses her head again, a muffled good reverberating through her. He rubs her upper arm a few times.
“Come here,” he says, letting go of her shoulder and standing up.
She smiles shyly, standing up and wasting no time to hold on to him, her arms wrapping around his middle and settling behind his back. She rests her ear right over his heart, the thump-thump drowning the world out. Drowning her thoughts. Her feet stand in between his, Ellie attempting to get as close to him as she can.
Joel, just like every time before and every time to come after, keeps a steady hand across her back and one behind her head, carefully threading his fingers through her hair. He tilts his head down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.
He sways them gently, covering her back in hand-drawn lines, circles, and a myriad of other shapes. “This is your first reminder.”
She giggles at that.
Something bubbles in her chest. A fire. Butterflies—as cheesy as she thinks that is—it fits. It tickles, in a way. It reaches her finger tips and warms her skin. It helps her breathe easier and keeps her heartbeat beat in rhythm with his. It slows her thoughts and relaxes her shoulder. It lets her relax completely against his embrace.
The reminder is there. The reminder of his care and protection, no matter what. The reminder of the steadfast, uncompromising, sacrificial love that he has for her.
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