#y’know. if it’s safe for that sorta thing...

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Soul healing

Damian was angry.

He was one of their best fighters, knew the layout of Arkham like the back of his hand, AND was on good terms with both Riddler and Ivy! Why wasn’t he allowed to help in the breakout? What was the point of making him babysit!?!

Father had said he was to keep the child safe but he’d neglected to say why. And honestly, the child was three months old. Who would be hunting down an infant, why would they be hunting down an infant, and what would they do with an infant? If anyone was after the child, that is.

The infant in question was babbling incoherently and rolling around on her stomach. She squealed and he huffed. All he knew about her was the information in her file, which was surprisingly little. Three months old, no name and orphaned, she was of Brazilian heritage and her blood tests located her place of origin as Blüdhaven. She was moved to Gotham to be fostered, which is one of the stupidest decisions he’s ever heard of.

The foster parent in question was Daniel ‘Danny’ Nightingale. Nightingale showed incredible intelligence, graduating upper primary school two years early and high school in two. Currently a student at Gotham University Nightingale was double majoring in chemistry and aerospace engineering when he decided to apply for a New Jersey foster license, which he was given due to already having one in both Wisconsin and Ohio as well as his incredible record.

Nightingale was in the room with him and the infant. He was 14 years of age and had short black hair much like himself, but Nightingale was disturbingly pale and had almost ultramarine blue eyes. Nightingale was sitting with the child in front of his place on the couch. There was a gate in a circle connected to each end of the couch that contained a multitude of children’s toys and a few books. The infant was currently playing with a keychain-like toy while Nightingale entertained her.

One part of him wanted to sit and stew in his contempt, but the other, the son of the Bat, was deeply curious. What was so special about this child that it warranted him–an Al Ghul, Robin, heir to the mantle of Bat and Demons Throne–to act as bodyguard? Was it her heritage—correction, what was her heritage, because there was no other reason for her to be hunted. What else could it possibly be?

But when he began paying attention to the infant, it made him realize that the child was not the oddity he was sent to watch, but Nightingale. Nightingale acted normal for the most part, but when the infant made a certain sound–a loud shriek–his pupils would retract and slit before expanding again, like a cats. That wasn’t the oddest thing he noticed.

Nightingales teeth were sharp, and the more he babbled and cooed at the infant the more teeth Damian could see. It appeared all his teeth were canines except for the teeth in the normal place for canines. Those four teeth were long and thin, like a vipers. When the light hit his eyes his pupils shimmered, like a cat or an owls. His ears, which were slightly pointy, twitched every now and then. His nails were noticeably sharp as well, and his voice would sometimes distort. As if a record player were malfunctioning. And the infant would respond! Respond in that same distorted tongue. That loud shriek would turn into a two second wail that made his heartbeat rise to his ears and his vision blur. Then she would giggle or coo and it would end. He had to do something. Those wails were coming more and more often now, and she was starting to lose shape.

“What is this?” Damian snapped. “Don’t worry,” Nightingale told him gently, “this is normal for her species.” He blinked and processed his words. Species. She wasn’t human. “I’m surprised the Bat picked up on it,” Nightingale continued, “Humans aren’t usually susceptible to this sort of thing. But I also sorta expected it? Because he’s, y’know, Batman.”

Nightingale smiled sweetly as she shrieked again, her outline blurring and walls shaking. He could feel his teeth rattling in his head. Suddenly Nightingales jaw unhinged with a quick clicking sound, as if his bones were straining and breaking, and an even louder whistle-hissing sound came from between his now many, many teeth. She stopped, her mouth in an ‘O’ and her eyes wide. He didn’t notice before, but an infant her age shouldn’t have teeth. Especially that sharp. And her eyes were a light yellow color, like straw.

Then she giggled, and began babbling like she didn’t just use a sonic voice ability similar to Black Canary’s. “Dawww,” Nightingale cooed, tickling her, “she’s developing quickly! Garalings usually only start fawning when they start walking.” Damian watched warily. He didn’t want to get any closer, in all honesty. His ears were ringing.

But he was curious, so, so, curious. What was a Garaling? What was fawning and why did they do it after they began walking? Could all Garalings do this ‘fawning’? Compared to other Garalings, exactly how fast is she developing? Is early development common?

Start with the most important. “What is a ‘Garaling’?” Nightingale smiled at him again. “Garalings are an extradimensional species that reside in a place called The Valley. They act as lords of nature and patrons of a chosen plant or animal. Her fawning,” he tapped her nose and she giggled, “will soon turn into either an animal sound or a sound of her own.”

“Fascinating,” he muttered, “is it an attack?” “More like a call to arms,” Nightingale leaned back, relaxed, as the infant shook her toy. “Gathering her chosen animal or plant for whatever she needs.” Damian watched her chew on the toy, drooling and babbling.

“What are you?” “I’m dead. Well, sort of. How to explain this…” He thought for a moment. “Think of me….as the line between life and death, but not exactly limbo. More like I move the line. Sometimes more dead, and sometimes more alive. But always a bit of both.” Damian couldn’t help but be reminded of Todd. And himself.

“Your not from this earth.” Nightingale smiled sadly. “I used to be. But not anymore. Even so I can’t bring myself to fully leave, though I probably should.” “Why? What makes you stay?” Nightingales eyes drifted away, back to the infant. “I want to continue the life I never got to finish. Experience the things I never got to experience. Do what I always wanted to do, even if it’s too late.”

He could understand that. Nightingale looked to be his age. To be ripped from life so soon was something he worried about constantly. Knowing that Nightingale was…..He understood wanting to stay, to pretend to be alive.

“What brought her here?” Nightingales face tightened. “Cultists.” He sounded annoyed. “They exist in every world and their always fond of sacrificing children. Even though my summons specifically say if I’m offered children or anyone unwilling I’ll destroy the cult.” It took Damian a moment to understand the implications.

“….who are you?” Nightingale smiled at him again, and for a second his outline wavered like the infants had. “I am Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms, the afterlife dimension. I rule over everything and everyone who’s died, if they’ve stayed dead or not. I am The Warm Winter, The Space Between, The Brightest Star. I act as Defender Of The Undead.”

“And what do you plan on doing with her? Why did you take her if you do not accept living offerings?” It was suspicious. Even though Nightingale–Phantoms titles painted him as benevolent, and his stance on sacrifice was very pacifistic, Damian knew better than to trust him just on those facts alone.

But he was being very honest, and it made him wonder why. Compared to Phantom, he was microscopic, a nuisance even. Why was he answering all his questions with seemingly endless transparency? “Because her parents were apart of the cult that offered her, which is unfortunately a common case. I had to bring her here because I already have another offering child going to school here.”

“Another?” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “How many children have you kept?” He suddenly had a feeling. Not a bad one, just…a feeling. Phantom thought for a moment. “Well the first was Sirius, she’s from a dimension where people are made completely out of star matter. She doesn't live with me anymore since she’s all grown up now, but she’s a really popular singer in the Realms! I can see if she set up her inter dimensional and universal site, her music is great!”

“Casey is my second, he was offered when he was about ten and he’s from a universe that’s essentially the same as this one but everyone has magic. He’s currently in his home dimension in school as well. He specializes in hydrokinese but he’s trying to learn Essokineses. He’s a really quick learner but has a tendency to either give zero or a hundred, no in between.”

“A few months after that I was offered a pair of twins in their twenties. Well, they were built to look to be in their twenties, their actual age is, as of now, seven. Their from a world where hyper realistic androids have no rights and are destroyed if they develop sentience, so when they did they were offered to me because they thought it would get through my rule. They named themselves Poppy and Posies. They don’t like to leave the Realm so their being homeschooled. They really enjoy learning and playing, and Poppy’s favorite thing to do is dance and Posies is jewelry making.”

“I got another infant from a dimension where everyone’s a centaur a few weeks ago. I named her Amaranthe and her lower half’s a sheep! She’s so cute. She’s not the best at walking yet but she loves jumping whenever she can. She likes playing perk-a-boo with the handmaidens. And the child going here is Aiden, he was offered a few months ago. He was originally from Kentucky but everyone in his hometown was apart of the cult and Lady Gotham likes me so we’re here now. He’s still rattled but being on earth helps him so he can stay as long as he likes. He wants to get into a trade school.”

“And this—“ Phantom tapped the infant on the nose, who giggled and grabbed his finger. “Is Velvet! Like I said she’s a Garaling from The Valley. I literally got her two weeks ago so her fake identity is pretty rushed and I think Batman could tell which is why you’re here. But I need to be here for Aiden, so she’s probably going to stay with me for at least another four weeks or until her room in the Realms is ready.”

“You have an adoption problem,” He groaned. God forbid his Father learn about this even though he knew he had to show him the footage being collected from his mask. Phantom laughed. “Probably. But it’s not like I could just give them away to someone else. Well, I could. But I don’t want to. I don’t have any family other than my sister, and she’s still alive. So it’s nice to have people running around the castle.”

He respected it. Even though he was suspecting Phantom was older than he appeared, his physical appearance was probably the age he died at, he was still going out of his way to take in not only traumatized adults and children but infants. He’d never dealt with infants but he had no doubt that they were a handful, even though Phantom said he had handmaidens he didn’t seem like the type to let them do everything.

“Have you had any problems with vigilantes such as myself? I know Batman can be quite forceful and rude if he encounters something he does not understand.” Phantom allowed Velvet to shake his fingers with surprising strength. “Nope! I’m very good at staying under the radar. That’s why I was so surprised when Batman sent you. Like I said, humans aren’t usually capable of picking up on things like the undead. But it’s probably that contaminated ecto you and him are covered in. Can I ask you about that, by the way?”

Contaminated Ecto? “Whatever do you mean by ‘contaminated’? What is this ecto?” Phantom held his hand up and Damian watched, fascinated and horrified, as Lazarus water bled from his skin and rose into a ball. “This is ectoplasm! Every ghost is made of it. It’s our blood, flesh and atoms all in one. Judging by the look on your face you’ve seen it before?”

Damian cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Uh, yes. We call it Lazarus water, and it comes from Lazarus Pits.” Phantoms eyes narrowed. “Pits? Like, a natural or artificial hole in the ground? It doesn’t move or flow in and out? It just sits there?” Damian told him yes and explained the way the League used the Pits, the effects of being revived or healed by the water. By the end Phantoms carefree attitude had left and in its place was someone who held himself like a king.

“Let me put Velvet to bed.” He waved his hand and the gate and various toys began to float and put themselves away as he picked up Velvet and walked away. He was alone for a few minutes, watching as the toys stacked neatly in a toy box and thinking. There was a whole species of people made out of Lazarus Water. Ectoplasm. Pure ectoplasm. What he’d experienced, had contact with, was apparently so corrupted that Phantom had noticed it.

Phantom came back and sat next to him, running a hand through his hair. “Ok, so; ectoplasm has a mind of its own. It connects with and enhances emotions. That’s why a lot of ghosts are angry or sad. Because the ectoplasm connects with the feelings they had when they were dying, and that’s why ghosts are so emotional. It’s all we’re made of. Some people don’t become ghosts but their emotions do. We call those blob ghosts.”

Phantom looked disturbed. “Ectoplasm can’t just sit there or else it’ll start to deteriorate, mold. It’ll become poisonous, borderline radioactive. It needs to be moving and connected with more ectoplasm to filter it out. Yes it does having insane healing properties but it’s not supposed to hurt you. Never supposed to hurt you. Again it has a mind of its own. Most ectoplasm wants to create new life, heal and help. If this Lazarus water is hurting people, it’s because it wants to. And that’s really, really bad.”

“You said it was boiling?” Damian nodded. “That’s also not good. Ectoplasm is supposed to be cold. That’s why most people who contact ghosts feel cold or the temperature drop. I’ve never heard of ectoplasm boiling before.” Phantom looked very troubled. “You said these pools are controlled by the League of Assassins?” At his nod he waved his hand and a small white circle appeared next to him.

Through the circle he could see only what appeared to be a bookshelf. Phantom traced the spine of a few before pulling one out and closing the circle, flipping through the book. Damian leaned over to read. It seemed to be a list of people. At first he didn’t recognize them, but then the name The Sensei appeared at the top of a page labeled ‘The Demons-Al Ghul’

It was a family tree. One he’d seen and studied more than a million times. It showed his ancestors, great grandfather, Ra’s, his Mother, Dusan, Nyssa, even Mara and I’son. And him. Phantom pointed at his name. “Is this you?” He swallowed.

There wasn’t any real point in lying. He already knew, but if his Father found out he’d get in trouble despite the recording showing Phantom had figured it out himself. “Uh, yes. Yes it is.” Phantom nodded then flipped more pages before coming across a map. He folded the page out and Damian saw it was seven small but detailed maps. Maps of the locations of the Pits.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, “Phantom you can not let anyone find this book. If this got into the wrong hands—“ Phantom laughed. “Don’t worry, Damian. These kinds of books are only in the castle library. No one other than me and my family can get in there.” He flipped through a few more pages before coming across one with a sketch of the Lazarus Pits. Phantoms eyes scanned the pages quickly, growing more concerned the more he read.

“Do you have any of these symptoms? The anger, lost time and enhancement?” Damian bit his lip. “I…used to. The Pit rage and blackouts faded after time and I have no enhancement that I know of. But, one of my brothers, Jason Todd…” Phantom muttered the name, opening another circle and pulling out another book. He flipped through it quicker than before and pointed at a page near the back.

“Jason Peter Todd-Wayne?” Damian nodded. Phantom sighed again. “He’s a revenant, an angry spirit that was put to rest and then forced back into life. It’s no wonder these symptoms stuck with him; this Pit probably attached itself to his barely formed core. It’s a miracle his body’s still functioning.”

“What’s a core?” Damian leaned over and red more names in the book, all unrecognizable. “A core is a ghosts soul. Each core has a sort of unique elemental power or structure to them. I have an ice core.” Phantom opened his hand and Damian watched as wisps of ice and snow rose out of his palm.

“Ok, so; a ghosts age depends on how long they’ve been dead for and how developed their core is. So someone who dies at a hundred will suddenly become a newborn ghost. Ghosts get more powerful with time, and depending on how violently they died they might become newborn ghosts who are already really powerful. I was one of those instances.”

Phantom opened another circle and pulled out another book. “Every new ghost will usually search for or be found by an older ghost who’ll become their caretaker or ‘parent’. These ghosts are supposed to teach the new ghosts about their powers, what type of ghost they are, how their religious beliefs will affect their afterlife. I had a really, really old ghost named Clockwork.”

Phantom flipped through the pages again and showed him one. It seemed to be a medical diagram of a ghost. It was fascinating; they didn’t appear to have muscles or organs, but rather this core acted as not only their stomach and heart but their brain. In fact their whole body seemed to be one big vein, the whole thing circulating this ectoplasm throughout it.

“Finding a new ‘parent’ is really, really important. Like I said before ghosts are nothing but emotions. So when we get lonely, it’s like a major depressive episode. We start hurting ourselves and others, we do things that go against our beliefs or moral codes, we do anything to bring any sort of attention to ourselves. Is this similar to anything Jason went through after being forced back?”

“I believe so? I don’t know what he was really thinking, but he definitely did horrible things that he would never have done before.” Damian didn’t miss the wording Phantom used. Forced. Todd didn’t come back to life, he was dragged back. Ra’s wanted to come back, his Father wanted to come back, he wanted to come back. But Todd had been put to rest somehow. Todd had moved on.

“If Todd had moved on before being forced back, why would he react so violently? If he’d been at peace, why all the anger?” Phantom closed the book and pulled out another, flipping through it to another diagram, but this time it was of a core. It was cut up the way he’d seen cells be in schoolbooks. “I honestly don’t entirely know, and I would have to see Jason or take him to one of my doctor's, but I think it’s because of the Pit.”

“As I said, ectoplasm is slightly sentient. But if this Lazarus water is working the same way normal ectoplasm does but maliciously, then Jason’s entire core might be made out of this corrupt ecto. It might have connected with one of his dying feelings, anger, and blew it out of proportion.” Damian bit the inside of his cheek. Todd would not be happy to learn his new soul is made out of mold and corruption. He’d take it the completely wrong way.

“How would we fix something like this? If a core is every organ, how would we get rid of the Lazarus water his very soul is now made of?” Phantom thought again. “Maybe we could flush it? Like, get him pills or an IV of pure ectoplasm and try to push it out. I don’t really know, but I know a doctor who might.” Damian hesitated before speaking again.

“…Would the Lazarus water fight back? Is it sentient enough to do that? What if by doing this it inadvertently harms him?” Phantoms made a displeased sound. He snapped the book closed and put it back in the portal before turning to him. “I don’t know, but I can find out. The book said there’s one of theses Pits in the Batcave, is that true?” He saw where this was going.

“My father would never let you in,” he started, “But you can bring me some.” Phantom finished. “I can get you some transport-safe tubes from one of my doctors, and they can look it over and find out how it works. If we find out a way to purify it, we may be able to use that to purify all the pits.” It was optimistic, but hell, he could use some hope in his life. And if he got caught, the mask footage would be his saving grace.

“If it is for the purpose of curing Todd of his Pit madness, then I will do whatever needs to be done. Where will you get these containers?” Phantom smiled and opened another portal, this time showing what looked like a laboratory table filled with beakers and containers with a green tint. Phantom grabbed five vials with stoppers and tongs. He handed them to him, and then grabbed a rack and gave him that as well.

“Want me to open one to the Batcave?” “If you wouldn’t mind.” That’ll make it far easier to get to and from, and lessen his chances of getting caught. Phantom stood and opened a much larger white circle, and it showed the closely guarded Lazarus Pit that was deep in the cave. He quickly filled the vials and went back in the apartment. “What now?” Phantom secured the tops with ice before replying, “Now I take this to the Far Frozen. That’s where the best doctors in the Infinite Realms are, they’re a group of Yetis.”

“How long will it take you? How long will it take for them to test it?” “I don’t know,” Phantom opened a larger portal, showing a frozen tundra. There seemed to be a large cave of ice in the distance. “But I’ll be back as soon as possible. We’ll find a way to get rid of the Lazarus Pits, and purify your brother. I promise.” He said it with such certainty and confidence that for a second Damian fully believed him.

In a flash of white Phantom’s hair had turned a snow white and his eyes Lazarus–ectoplasm green. He was wearing a black suit similar to a superhero’s with white gloves and boots, and he had what looked to be a crown of northern lights. He had a white cape that’s inside showed stars, and the absolute power he radiated almost knocked Damian down. Phantom smiled at him, reassuringly and calm, then stepped into the portal. It closed without a sound, and Damian was left with his thoughts.

#damian wayne x danny fenton #damian x danny #dead serious #ghost king danny #dc x dp crossover #damian wayne #danny phantom #Aw hell yeah WORLDBUILDING BABY #No dead serious in the actual mini fic but I wanted it to be an endgame #I might continue this? But you totally can if you want! #Please continue this #I have #So many fics

[laiiaaa]

A NICE NIGHT — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen happens to meet a stranger at the party Claire takes him to. A brief conversation is shared during a cigarette break.

length 2k

contents literally just nonsense, not infidelity but sorta toying with the idea idk????, inside Carm’s mind (he’s a nervous wreck), reader is a food journalist bc i just think the pairing is cute, Claire slander lowkey…look i just want Carmen to meet some random person organically and bond without feeling pressured to like them :/ very self indulgent :/ baby bear :/

Carmen’s not sure why he agreed to come here: a party with people he doesn’t know and doesn’t particularly care to, too much drinking, too much conversation, too much noise.

He’s trying not to hate it completely, he really is, but there’s that nagging in the back of his mind that just screams unwanted. And maybe a little regretful, or undeserving, or unsure of himself. He wants to like it here. He wants to tolerate it for Claire. Maybe. Maybe just a few more minutes. Maybe a few with a cigarette.

He’s lucky to find the backyard more or less empty, save for red solo cups and beer bottles thrown askew—and a girl standing against the railing, back to the house to face a dark canvas. At least this is better than the mess inside.

Playing it safe, he leans against the railing on the opposite side of the steps, figures it sends a message. We don’t have to talk. Or, more accurately, I don’t really want to. He feels that familiar itch crawling down to his fingertips and pulls out his pack, pops out a cigarette and props it between his lips. He pats down his pockets. And again. He pats down his jacket. And again. 

Fuck…

“Do you need a light?”

His head turns in her direction. Did I say that out loud? She’s looking at him, expectant. He must have. “Yeah, I, uh, it must’ve slipped from my pocket or somethin’.” He can’t tell whether he’s more on edge in a crowded room or in a conversation alone.

She walks over to him in a few steps, clad in a black leather jacket that catches his eye. Her cheekbones glow in the pale yellow haze seeping outside from within the house, and her lips are glossy and a little tinted like she’s just eaten cherries. Not that he’s paying any of this any mind; she’s only offered him a glimmer of her flame. She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a bright blue BIC lighter, like one of hundreds he’s lost or forgotten about over the years.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and she nods in response, turning back to the yard just a foot away this time, taking a drag. A metallic flick gives him his fill and his nerves subside only slightly. He fiddles with the lighter for a moment, watching her almost, before extending his arm. “Here.”

She peeks over her shoulders, shakes her head lightly, and looks back. “Nah, you keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

He pockets it and inhales. “Thanks.”

She hums and it quirks up into a smile. “You, uh…” Another pull and plume of tobacco. “You do this typa thing often?” Carmen pauses, and she must take it as confusion. “Y’know, like…” The hand holding the cigarette makes a few circles as she turns her body towards him. “Parties. Kickbacks?” An eyeroll, a shrug of the shoulders he thinks is playful. “I dunno what the fuck this even is.”

“No,” he chuckles, and he thinks it comes a little easier than usual. A little lighter. “I-I don’t.”

“Yeah.” She sighs and smiles back at him, looks him in the eye for a blip of time. “Me neither.” Backing up, she moves down onto the first step and sits. She offers her name nonchalantly, adds by the way to the end of the introduction while shooting a look up at him.

“Carmen,” he offers. He clears his throat and steps closer. Am I supposed to sit with her? He chooses to stay standing.

She scoots to the side until she meets the railing, turns her hips to prop her legs along the step below, crossed at the ankle. Leather boots hit an inch or two below her knees. “You can sit here if you want.” Her head pivots toward the house to eye the furniture—two dingy lawn chairs and a collapsible table—and she takes another hit off her cigarette. “Not much place else.”

He nods, smiles because he thinks it’s the right move, and tries to sit down coolly. A few beats pass and he doesn’t know what to do in the silence. “Do you know anybody here?” he asks, lending a glance before looking down at his feet.

“Not really. A friend dragged me here to get me away from work. She’s busy actually talking to people.”

He smiles to himself, a gentle one hidden behind the collar of his jacket that makes his chest warm. I know the feeling. “I dunno anyone either. I, uh…” Fingers run through his hair to the nape of his neck. “A friend dragged me here, too.” A friend… The syllable feels heavy rolling off the tongue. Is that the right word for it?

“Really.” She smiles and exhales. “How come?”

“Uh…” He lets out an airy laugh, mouth tightening into a half-smile as he looks at her while still messing with the back of his hair. “To get me away from work, I think.”

A quiet giggle makes him think he could be doing something right for once—like maybe the whole social thing doesn’t have to be so hard, and he doesn’t have to be the funniest person in the room, and he doesn’t have to try and carry the weight of a conversation. Maybe he can just be.

“What do you do for work?”

Here we go again… He lets the question simmer for a beat. It’s an uncomfortable one: he doesn’t make money, the prestige is anything but, part of him shrivels up when he has to see the reaction. Another inhale before he ashes his cigarette. “I’m a chef,” he says, though it’s quiet. Ashamed.

“Oh, really?”

His heart drops. Maybe he thought better of a situation than he should’ve. “Heh, yeah, it’s not—it’s not, uh…” It’s not that special. Half of what I do is fuckin’ pointless. No, I don’t make a lot of money. Thanks for fuckin’ asking. 

“No, no, I think it’s cool.” She tilts her head to the side, another soft thump of laughter to break the tension. She doesn’t seem to mind too much. “I’m a, uh…” She looks to her hands, snubs out the last of her cigarette that’s burnt down to the filter. “I’m a food journalist, so—or, whatever you’d call it—just a writer now, maybe? I don’t even know at this point…” 

There’s an exhalation that has Carmen thinking that for once someone feels like he does—a quick-beating heart, jittery hands, an embarrassment unique to someone whose passion is a shame to a respectable world. 

“What I’m saying is, I’m not judging.”

His brows lift, a subtle nod—half relief, half surprise. “You’re not.”

“Correct.”

A comfortable silence. A few more plumes of tobacco escape his mouth before he realizes he can’t remember the last time he smoked more than half a cigarette. He likes a quick fix, just a taste of it to make the nerves go down before getting back to work; he doesn’t take it slow, enjoy the pull, indulge in the company of someone else. He doesn’t usually have someone else. 

He looks at her again, and for a blip of time he thinks she’s gorgeous, her head gently turned to the side, a barely-there smile adding warmth to the space between them. Part of him is thankful she hasn’t gone back inside, and he doesn’t bother wondering whether she’s staying because she wants to enjoy a crisp night in a bit of quiet, or if her friend isn’t all that much of a friend, or anything else. He’s here with Claire, anyway. He’ll be back with her any moment now, and he’s not sure whether he wants that moment to come. He likes it out here, in the dim light, away from the bustle, stumbling through a conversation with someone who isn’t running miles ahead. It’s not buried under a past that’s grueling to dig up.

So he goes out on a bit of a limb and asks, “What do you write about?”

She looks at him then, mouth open only slightly like she didn’t think he’d ask. “The food industry, mostly. Ethics, culture, history, that typa stuff.” A pause before she adds, with a bit of a tanginess to it, “Not recipes, or cookbooks, or anything like that. Might not be your style.”

“Not my style?” A crinkle forms between his brow, his lips curl up at the corners, gaze shoots down to his feet again.

“What, you’re reading Gastronomica in your free time, Chef?”

He strangles out a breath that’s somewhere between a laugh and a cough, making her smile. “Gastronomica?”

He tries not to think about it too much. Even in his professional prime he wouldn’t fuck with journalists; they were too prying, too nosy, asked the wrong questions about the wrong things. Who cares where his love of cooking came from? Is it a good dish, or is it not? 

This is different though. He’s not entirely sure why. Just that it is.

She offers a shrug, and a dismissive smile to follow that slowly wanes. “Doesn’t mean much in the real world, though.”

Self-deprecating. “I get that…” Too well. “It’s the same, bein’ a chef, y’know? It’s, uh, not a lotta money.”

She hums. “Not at all. I still like it, obviously, but—y’know, my parents would’ve been a lot happier had I…” A beat of laughter, sardonic and a little self-loathing. “I dunno, become a fuckin’...a fuckin’ doctor, or somethin’.”

He smiles to himself. A doctor…Claire’s gonna be a doctor. Respectable, easy to confess about. Not a lotta shame there.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining like that to you; I don’t even know you.”

“No, no I get it. I know what you mean.” He nods and watches his hands before looking back. “The, uh, the judgment. I get that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But, uh, it…it’s nice,” he admits, looking her in the eye, “It’s nice to meet someone who’s in that—that world, y’know?”

She hums and smiles in a way that makes his chest flutter. In a way that makes him think he’s understood. In a way that makes him painfully confused as to how he even broached the topic with someone who’s little less than a stranger.

The back door opens, and light spills onto the porch. Heads turn to inspect.

“Carm?”

Claire.

He freezes before sparking up a smile. “Hey,” he answers. It’s been too long since ashing his cigarette; he flicks it to the ground, standing up and turning to face his…friend. 

She takes a few steps yet stays tethered to the door. Music booms from inside and just the thought makes Carmen’s head throb. Her gaze flickers from him, to the girl sat on the steps, and back. “You made a friend?” Her grin feels mocking, almost accusatory.

“N-No—” he shakes his head, turns to look at the girl standing up— “Just, uh…”

“Just lent him a light,” she fills in. He watches her dust off her skirt, adjust her slouched over jacket, check her phone for a second before she looks back up at him. She smiles at him and looks at Claire with the same expression. “I’m headed out, though, so…” Her face softens when she looks at him again, and he wants to think it’s for a reason. “Have a nice night.”

His mouth goes dry before he remembers his manners. “Yeah, uh, you too.” 

“Thanks.” Her boots make a satisfying click as she descends, her hand an axis around which she pivots the railing to leave through the gate. He wonders where she’s going, whether she drove here herself separate from her friend, if she’s going to wait for an Uber to pick her up. If she'll ever visit The Bear once it's open.

“So,” Claire starts, grabbing for his attention again. “Ready to go?”

He nods, mumbles a hushed Yeah, and heads toward the door. She bares her teeth in a smile as she looks him in the eye and hovers an open hand near his. He follows her back inside where the music consumes his thoughts and the bass rattles through his shoes. 

After letting the air hang between their hands for a moment, he tucks them away into his pockets, thumbing away at his new lighter.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear season 2

[signedkoko]

Hello! This is short of a headcanon-request? I imagine Mammon to treat his partner like a pet at times. As in, instructing them on what to do, choosing their clothes to make sure they look cute, praising them when they do what he asks them and such. I was wondering if you could write something like that? I get it if it's not something you are comfortable writing, so please don't feel pressured to take my request! Thank you for reading! <3

Mammon X Reader [Romantic]

In which Mammon does everything for you, and you don't mind it at all.

Ohh, yes, he loves control over everything around him, he wants everything on a string that he can pull

Even his partner

He adores you, he wants you safe and happy and protected

And you are all those things so long as he is taking good care of you, his cute little bunny

Totally a bunny kind of guy

He's always casually telling you to follow him, sit on his lap, lay in bed, play a game you like, tell him about your day, tell him a story from before he knew you

Tell him everything, he wants to know everything he missed in his little rabbits life

Expect nicknames like hops, bunny, rabbit, bun, carrots, and bugsie

He loves bugsie a lot, y’know, because of rabbits and their big ass eyes

He does more than pick your outfit, oh yeah, he will dress you himself, all sets of hands on deck

You have your own walk in closet with a variety of outfits, most of which are baby blue or white, to match your nickname

He will lift you up onto a dresser and help you get tights on, tie your shoes, slip a shirt over your head and help you get a cozy cardigan on over it

It's a lot at once with all his hands, some doing multiple things at once that eventually you can just let your limbs go limp and he'll do it all for you

But you're also so precious to him that he rarely lets you be in the public eye

People get glimpses of you, rarely, the ones he lets slip just so everyone has something to gossip about

But you are his sweet little thing, and you don't need others to take care of you, he'll do and be everything you possibly need

Author's Note - For the record, I don't think anyone knows this but I write full on hardcore NSFW by request- it'd take a lot more than this to get me weirded out. Also I am super into doll/pet sorta dynamics so I rock with this! I hope this is what you were hoping for, thank you!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader

[musingmeaninglessly]

Neteyam and Lo’ak x Human!Reader Meet-Cutes

So, this is my first post! G/n human!reader, but with a fem bias if you squint.

No warnings, just fluff.

Enjoy!

⭐️ Neteyam

Your relationship definitely began as a sorta enemies-to-lovers type of deal. Like, you didn’t fully become enemies, but it definitely could have gone down that path.

After finding you lost in the forest, Neteyam sternly sent you back to the lab. In fact, he escorted you there. And it was totally because he wanted to make sure you went back and stayed there…nothin’ to do with you being safe, y’know?

But the moment you took your mask off once inside? He swore he saw Eywa herself before him. He’d found you cute with your mask but now? Damn, he’d never seen anyone as breathtaking.

He came back to the lab to see you after that, under the guise of chaperoning his siblings. But with each repeated visit, he fell for you a bit more each time.

Each moment spent with you meant that his initial wariness and hostility towards you lost ground. He came to view you not as a sky person, but as a beautiful soul. Na’vi or not, he couldn’t get you off his mind.

⭐️ Lo'ak

The fateful day he stumbled upon you was in true Lo’ak style.

After getting his ass whooped by Jake, Lo’ak stalked off to his place. The secret place he would go to just be by himself. And that had always been the case, until one day.

In a small, secluded clearing, far from high camp, Lo’ak nearly fell on his face when his eyes happened upon you. It turns out that you’d also claimed the little corner for yourself as a (somewhat) safe haven away from the claustrophobic lab.

Normally, Lo’ak would’ve childishly claimed the spot as his, and only his. But when you looked up at him, the exopack framing your doe eyes and unintentional pout, he couldn’t say a thing.

The one thing he had managed to do was lowly utter an apology, before turning in his heel. But you asked him to stay. For what reason, neither of you knew. But it planted the seed for something special.

#avatar #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x human #neteyam #lo’ak x you #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak x human reader #Neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #atwow #atwow neteyam #atwow loak

[quinns-shadowy-arts]

Steve's Perfect Mixtape

Day 8 of @steddielovemonth‘s Steddie Love Month Event!   Rating: General CW: None Tags: Getting Together, Love Confessions, Eddie’s a Romantic, Tooth Rotting Fluff. WC: 1,308 Prompt: “Love is the perfect mixtape”; Submitted by @thefreakandthehair and “Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him”; Submitted by anonymous  

Eddie’s been thinking about this for months. He’s had the small cassette tape tucked into the depths of his dresser drawer since March. He started making the mixtape the same week he found out when Steve’s birthday was.

It was the night of January 24th. Big, fat snowflakes were falling from the sky. Steve and Eddie were sitting on the living room floor of the Munson’s new trailer. They were passing a joint between the two of them, relaxing and listening to some of Eddie’s tapes. They were sharing secrets and stories, lips loose from the weed. 

“I’m going to be 21 in April, isn’t that crazy?” Steve had asked. Eddie didn’t really think that was all that crazy if he was being honest. 

“I was supposed to be in college right now. Studying to take my dad’s spot as CEO or whatever.” Steve had looked over at Eddie before looking back up at the ceiling. Eddie’s heart squeezed at the thought. 

“Do you- Do you wish you were in college?” Eddie asked, looking at the slope of Steve’s nose; straight and gorgeous. Steve looked back over at Eddie, taking a hit of the joint he’d been hogging, before responding.

“I used to. I felt like a failure for not being accepted, still sorta do. But I’m happy now that I didn’t. If I hadn’t been rejected from all the schools I applied for, I wouldn’t have Robin. I wouldn’t have worked at Scoops and wouldn’t have ever met her, y’know?” Eddie nodded. Steve made eye contact with Eddie and kept going.

“I wouldn’t have met you either. I’m happy here, with you. I would kill to be here with you, sitting on the floor and shooting the shit, rather than at some stuffy school, studying for a boring future that I don’t even want. I’m more than happy, here with you.” Steve smiled at Eddie. Eddie pulled a chunk of hair in front of his face, trying to hide the heat spreading across his face.

“Aw shucks, Stevie.” Eddie teased. Steve chuckled at Eddie’s theatrics.

“When is your birthday?” Eddie asked, still holding the hair over his face. 

“April 17th, 1967. You?” Steve quirked his eyebrow at Eddie. 

“August 8th, 1966” Eddie responded.

The next day, Eddie was brainstorming things he could get Steve for his birthday. He toyed around with the idea of something sportsy, maybe some compression socks or something. But that felt too simple and disingenuous. It was a gift you would get for a coworker, not a friend you’ve spilt blood and battled demons with.

Eventually the idea struck Eddie like an arrow. Eddie loved music, believed it was one of the best ways you could connect with someone. You could learn a lot about someone from their music taste. So Eddie started crafting Steve's Perfect Mixtape™.

He spent weeks choosing the songs, listening to Top 40’s pop songs to assemble the perfect selection of songs. After choosing what he deemed were “the best songs” (and Steve’s favorites of course), he listened to them for hours on end, trying to figure out the perfect order. The order that would flow into itself in the most satisfying way. 

By the beginning of March, he had perfected the tape. He had finally recorded all of the songs down onto one tape. He had labeled the tape as what it was, “Stevie’s Perfect Mixtape”. It held Steve’s favorite songs, such as “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears and “Sunglasses at Night” by Corey Hart. He tucked the tape into his dresser, hoping to keep it safe and secret until Steve’s birthday.

Finally, Steve’s birthday had come. Steve planned for everyone to come over, nothing too extravagant. He used to throw absolute ragers, back when he was King Steve, but he much preferred the simple hang outs with his closest friends. 

Eddie dug the tape out from the back of his drawer and wrapped it in some wrapping paper he found in Wayne’s closet. He tucked the cassette into the pocket above his heart. He hopped into his van and drove over to Steve’s house. 

Steve’s party was chill, including only the kids and older teens. They hung out in his living room, songs flowing from Steve’s speakers. They all played games and ate pizza, the older teens drinking mainly beer while the youngins drank soda. The party continued on until the late evening. Everyone would’ve stayed longer, but the gremlins had school and everyone else still had curfews. 

Robin had gone with Nancy, Mike, and Lucas while Jonathan and Argyle carted Will and Dustin home. Which had left Steve and Eddie alone. Steve was happy to have the company still, wasn’t exactly looking forward to falling asleep alone. Eddie still hadn’t given Steve The Tape yet, had wanted to wait until they had some privacy. 

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie called out. Eddie stood in front of the couch while Steve was in the kitchen. Steve walked into the living room at the sound of Eddie’s voice.

“Yeah, man? Is everything ok?” Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern. 

“Yeah, everything’s ok. I just had a present I needed to give you.” Eddie said. Steve’s concern melted away, making him look light and happy. 

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” Steve said, but he smiled and walked towards Eddie. Eddie reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the little wrapped rectangle. He handed it over to Steve. Steve grabbed onto it and started pulling away the wrapping. 

“Is this a mixtape?” Steve looked up at Eddie while tugging the last remaining half of paper off. A note fell to the ground as he did so. Steve looked down and picked it up, tucking it underneath the cassette tape as he read off the song list.

“You put “Bad Boys” on here?” Steve smiled up at Eddie. It was one of Steve’s favorite songs, he had only told Eddie about his love for it, 

“Yeah, I know how much you love Wham!, and it reminded me of us a little bit” Eddie smiled at Steve, it was one of Eddie’s favorite songs now too. Steve finished reading off the list before pulling the note out from underneath the tape; he unfolded it up and began to read it. 

As Steve read through the note, Eddie’s heart had started to pump at top speed. He pulled a lock of hair over his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. Steve’s wide smile morphed into something smaller; something private and sweet. He bit at his bottom lip, tears springing to his eyes. After a couple of minutes, he looked up at Eddie. 

“Do you really love me?” Steve’s voice wobbled with emotion. Eddie nodded,

“Yes, Stevie. I really love you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I just needed to let you know. You deserve to know that someone loves you.” Tears trickled down Steve’s cheeks, his smile remained on his face.

 He pulled Eddie into a hug, Eddie’s head landing against his chest. Steve’s hand held Eddie’s head in place, his face pressing against the top of Eddie’s frizzy hair. Eddie could hear the rapid thumping of Steve’s heart against his ear. He listened to the rhythmic Thump thump thump of Steve’s heartbeat while Steve pressed kisses against the top of his head. 

“Thank you” Steve whispered out, voice overflowing with emotion. He squeezed his arms tighter around Eddie. 

“I love you too, for the record” Steve smiled even wider, even though Eddie couldn’t see it. Eddie turned his head and kissed at the spot above Steve’s heart. He pressed his ear back to Steve’s pec. He listened as Steve’s heart calmed down into something tender. 

Ba-bump   Ba-bump   Ba-bump

Both their hearts thumped with love, full of affection and joy. This really was the perfect mixtape. 

#steddie fanfic #steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tooth rotting fluff #steve harrington loves eddie munson #eddie munson loves steve harrington

[putaposyinyourhair]

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

noah diaz x mirage (they’re def boyfriends)

warnings: goddamnit noah cheer up dude (also death/bodies mention)

mirage tones it down with the pet names but then comes in hot at the end with a big one + dad doesn’t seem to approve

“Is the rider part of Arcee?” Noah inquires, watching as the Ducati ahead navigates the curved exit ramp of the Sunrise Highway— Noah is kind of transfixed honestly, awed by the way the early morning light shines off of the pink and white finish of Arcee’s altmode.

“Nah, that’s holomatter,” Mirage reveals offhandedly.

“Holo-what?”

“It’s a projection,” the mech clarifies. “Can be light or solid. We use them to draw less attention to ourselves. Be kinda weird to see a bike drive itself, right?”

Noah nods. Definitely weird. His lips pout to one side, watching Arcee and mulling over the idea of hologram-like projections for a moment before he starts, wide gaze flashing down to Mirage’s radio.

“Wait, can you do that?” he questions pointedly.

“Yep,” Mirage pops the ‘p’ cheerfully, before his radio makes a small, muted buzzing sound. “Well… I used to.”

Noah stills.

“My projector was damaged pretty badly after Peru,” Mirage admits softly, kind of wistfully. “I can project light. I mean, sorta. It doesn’t last very long and it’s really buggy but…”

The mech trails off for a moment.

“I can’t do solid anymore,” he confesses finally, faintly.

Noah sinks into the seat, forced down by the sudden, all-encompassing guilt.

Shit.

“Ratchet tried to fix it but it’s just one of those things, y’know?” Mirage goes on, his pitch rising in volume as if in response to Noah’s physical reaction to his admission. “Bumblebee can’t talk. I can’t use holoforms. No biggie.”

The bot isn’t a very good liar, Noah realizes.

He has zero doubt in his mind that losing a piece of yourself like that has got to be terrible. But he’s not going to acknowledge that out loud though. Not when it’s probably his fault.

Damn it.

The inward confession makes his chest sting.

Noah shakes his head, not wanting to think on it anymore. He’s already cried once. He’s not about to do it again. Mirage is going to start thinking he’s some kind of giant wuss or something.

He sucks in a sharp breath and forces himself to lift and drop a shoulder.

“Who needs hologram—form…things,” he stammers out a bit awkwardly. “When you’re already cool as fuck anyway, dude.”

Mirage chuckles, the sound vibrating through the seat beneath Noah. The leather warms up for a moment and Noah realizes that comfort is exactly what that sensation is supposed to convey.

He’s just not sure it’s working this time around.

The seconds crawl by and neither of them moves to speak again and so they fall into a strange, sort of unsettling silence. Noah, for as much as he tries to not think about it, can only do just that; stew in the guilt.

Because it is his fault.

Mirage had almost died for him.

Mirage had to be rebuilt and repaired from practically the ground up because of him.

Mirage had lost parts of himself because of Noah.

Noah’s a walking, talking hazard around the mech.

He frowns, pulling his feet up onto the seat so he can wrap his arms around his legs and curl into himself— ignoring the way the seatbelt kind of digs into the skin of his neck. In the distance, amidst fog and cloud-cover, he can see Manhattan’s skyscrapers reaching for the heavens.

“Hey, Noah?”

He glances down at the radio— it’s backlight cycling through a few different colors; blue, yellow, green, and red, before it settles on its usual light blue.

“I’d do it all over again in a sparkbeat, y’know,” Mirage claims boldly. “If it meant keeping you safe.”

Noah’s eyes widen so quickly, he half expects his eyeballs to drop right out of his head for a moment. His breath catches in his throat and his chest heaves— his heart stuttering over a couple beats.

Oh, fuck.

Noah’s not one hundred percent sure, but he remembers Mirage once saying, ‘Cross my spark, hope to die,’ and so he assumes it to be the cybertronian version of a heart.

The declaration is… overwhelming, to say the least. In a good way.

But also in a way that Noah feels he is undeserving of.

It compels his own heart to keep pounding away, essentially doing somersaults underneath his ribcage. Which— under the recent revelation that Mirage can actually feel it thumping away— is embarrassing as all shit. But Noah can’t help it.

He’d do it all over again.

Noah doesn’t think Mirage even realizes how much that one sentence means. Or maybe he does. And he actually means it. Noah hopes that’s not true.

He never wants Mirage to do it again.

The radio warbles and Noah watches the backlight flicker again.

“Mirage,” Arcee’s voice comes through, clear and urgent. “We’re needed back at base-ops stat.”

Immediately, Mirage groans— in a long and suffering kind of way that reminds Noah of Kris every time he starts whining about how he still can’t get past Bowser.

“I’m gettin’ my aft chewed out for breems,” Mirage gripes with a sharp huff. “Fraggin’ Ratchet, man. Messin’ with my game. What a hater.”

Noah has no idea what half those words mean but he’s pretty sure he understands the gist of it all.

Which is why he isn’t all that surprised when, instead of driving back into Brooklyn, Arcee leads the way north into Queens and then across the East River into the Bronx.

Noah shifts quietly in his seat.

His ma’s gonna be so mad when he does eventually make his way home. He hasn’t checked in with her for hours, which is unlike him. And Breanna Diaz don’t play when it comes to her kids.

But at the same time, he thinks he can understand the sort of urgency a call from Optimus Prime himself might instill in the autobots.

Both he and Mirage are silent as they make their way into a neighborhood of the Bronx known as City Island— a fitting name. At this point, the sun has risen high up into the sky and the inhabitants of City Island are starting to slowly make their way outside in preparation for another day.

Arcee and Mirage pull into what looks like some kind of junkyard marina at the far end of the island, where old boats have been left to rust in every corner of the property, shadowed by dilapidated warehouses. At the water’s edge, a rickety dock bobs in response to the waves below it.

Noah reaches out and white-knuckles the Porsche’s door handle as Arcee and Mirage roll slowly over the surprisingly sturdy wooden slats of the dock. There’s an antiquated ferry at the end, and Noah does his best to hold in a frightened little yelp when both bots lift off the dock— only half-transforming for a second— so they can step onto the ferry.

Once they’re safely aboard, Arcee’s holoform swings her leg over the Ducati and heads off— Noah assumes to start up the ferry.

“You want out?” Mirage inquires, the driver side door popping open with a muted click.

Noah bites into his bottom lip, thinking for a moment. He thinks he knows exactly where they’re heading.

Hart Island is located just to the east of City Island. It’s a place that’s pretty much synonymous with death, with deserted buildings from different eras lying in an array of ruins all over it— the island having been left abandoned to its’ own destruction since the late seventies.

Honestly, it’s kind of the perfect place for the autobots to hide out.

Noah’s not going to lie and say that it doesn’t freak him out though. Supposedly, there’s thousands of bodies buried in the ground at Hart Island.

So he shakes his head and shimmies away from the open door— not ready to step out quite yet. Mirage quickly closes it with another soft click.

“Okay,” he acknowledges. “I gotchu.”

Noah decides he really needs his friend to stop reminding him of that fact.

He knows.

The ferry sputters to life beneath them and after a moment, it rocks forward— pulling away from the dock lazily.

Noah inhales deeply then blows it out through his nose. And forces himself to think about something else, anything else— aside from the fact that he’s currently on a rusting metal death trap headed towards a possibly haunted island to face alien life forms that probably don’t even like him.

His distraught gaze lands on the Ducati parked off to the Porsche’s right.

“Arcee help you sneak out?” he questions. If a holoform is needed to operate the ferry, it has to be the only explanation. Right?

“Yeah,” Mirage admits, but not like he’s shy about it— more like he’s proud of it. “She’s a real G.”

Noah can’t help the smile the words pull from him.

He’s glad that, despite what he thinks is a clear disdain for him on the part of Optimus, Arcee doesn’t seem to hold any negative opinions when it comes to Noah.

He knows Optimus sees him— them, humans— in a different light now. That the battle in Peru— and both Noah and Elena’s drive to fight for their planet— had changed the giant mech’s opinion of the human race.

But the surly leader of the autobots had only begrudgingly allowed Noah to try and fix Mirage, at first, at the behest of Arcee and Bumblebee. When he’d failed, Optimus had been quick to change his mind, quick to take Mirage away.

Leaving Noah wondering, for months, if he’d ever see his friend again. His best friend, probably.

He’s quickly starting to realize Mirage means that much to him.

“Aw, scrap,” Mirage grumbles suddenly, his altmode shuddering slightly around Noah.

Noah looks up from the steering wheel— from the spot he’d been staring at whilst in his head— to see another dock gradually approaching. Rusting, multi-colored shipping containers stacked at its edge, providing cover for the two autobots standing just beyond them; Optimus Prime and an unfamiliar blue and white autobot with a star of life insignia across his chest plates.

Noah assumes he must be the infamous hater; Ratchet. An immediate thought tickles at the back of Noah’s mind as he recalls his first contact with the autobots in that warehouse months ago.

He frowns.

“How’s Ratchet ‘round humans?” he asks warily, just as the ferry gently bumps into the edge of the dock, their short trip across the water coming to a, thankfully, safe end.

Mirage’s radio drones out a low buzzing sound and Noah takes it for exactly what it is: Ratchet is not a fan of Earth’s native species.

“It’s okay, though!” Mirage advises him cheerily as Noah watches Arcee’s holoform return. “I got your back, bro.”

Noah isn’t all that convinced. Not that he doesn’t trust Mirage or anything.

And it must show on his face because as soon as they’re off the ferry— Mirage gently pushing him out of the Porsche’s cabin, so he can transform into his natural rootmode, Arcee doing the same beside them— he leans down closer to Noah, who is staring up at the clear disapproval on the faces of both Optimus and Ratchet.

“He’s not as mean as he looks, I swear,” Mirage testifies in what Noah thinks is supposed to be a whisper but is clearly heard by the others, including Ratchet who scowls at Mirage. “I won’t let him mess witchu, cariño.”

Noah absolutely freezes.

… what.

#noah x mirage #norage #noah diaz #mirage #mirage rotb #transformers rise of the beasts #transformers rotb #mirage x noah

[mlmxreader]

The Outlaw In Front of You | Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ arthur morgan x gn!reader (or male, idrc) “Do we have to meet in a dingy motel in the middle of fucking nowhere?” aftermath of smut, like they’re both putting their clothes on when one of you two realize you only meet in hotels/motels - @mockerycrow ❞

: ̗̀➛ It's a moment of curiosity, a moment of wondering "we've always done this, but why?". Nothing else.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, sexual references

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Drying yourself off with the towel, you hummed as you thought about your relationship with Arthur; for years, you had been together, and although you didn’t mind the secrecy and the sneaking around, you did have to admit - you were kind of curious as to why he always asked you to meet in inns all the time as opposed to in the houses of your friends or at your own home.

You knew it was safe there, as your friends were all… sympathetic, for lack of a better word, when it came to you and Arthur. There was no way that they would tell bounty hunters where he was, and he knew that.

It was just a little curiosity, you didn’t actually mind it so much; a good, warm bed for the night with a hot meal and the man you cared most about in the world beside you - what could possibly be to complain about?

Plus, admittedly, it usually got you away from the small rural village where you worked and lived. It always gave you a change of scenery for a night - or two, if Arthur had found a good enough excuse to be gone from the gang for so long.

But as you left the bathroom and went back into the main bedroom where Arthur was, you paused at the door frame, leaning against it with your arms crossed over your chest; you watched him as he pulled on his trousers, and when he noticed you there, he looked over, and he smiled. 

“You all good?”

You nodded, running your hand over the soft bite mark on your throat absent-mindedly. “You sure did a number on me, cowpoke.”

Arthur laughed softly, blush across his features as he chewed at the inside of his lip. “I didn’t mean t’be so rough…”

“Oh, I know, don’t worry… plus, I like it when you fuck me and mark me,” you hummed, coming to sit beside him. Gently, you kissed his bare shoulder. “Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask - do we have to meet in a dingy motel in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

He shrugged, taking a moment to look at you and all the marks he had left across your skin. “No, but… it’s nice to get away, ain’t it? Just us?”

You nodded, licking your lips. “I’m not complaining, mind… I like the fact that we can go somewhere.”

Arthur nodded, daring to softly kiss you. “You said about a museum a few miles back… I ain’t gotta go back to camp for a couple days - said I was trackin’ down a lead… if you wanna go, we can.”

“You? In a museum?” You scoffed, raising a brow. “I didn’t think it was your sorta thing.”

“It ain’t,” he admitted with a shrug, handing you your shirt when he noticed the small bumps up and down your arms. “But… you like ‘em, don’t ya?”

“I do, yeah,” you tugged on the shirt between short, soft kisses. “But I don’t wanna drag you along if you ain’t gonna enjoy it.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout me,” he moved so that he could gently lie you on the bed, straddling your waist as he gently ran his thumb down your jaw. “I ain’t that worried - if you’re gonna like it… we can go.”

“Arthur,” you hummed, hooking your arms around his neck as you smiled. “For a son of a bitch, you sure can be a good damn boyfriend, y’know.”

He smiled, daring to steal another kiss. “Do you wanna go?”

“I do,” you whispered. “And to make it up to you, I’ll buy the first round at the saloon?”

“That sounds great,” he admitted softly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Arthur wasn’t shy about it. He knew he had found the diamond in the rough with you; he knew that he had found someone who was more than willing to go through every risk and precaution there was to be with an outlaw like him, someone who knew what they were getting into and didn’t mind.

You could keep yourself safe, he had seen that much when you had taken on a pack of wolves who were after a local herd of sheep; he didn’t have any doubts that you could have held your own if bounty hunters were to get in your way.

Sure, he still wanted to protect you, but no more so than anyone else in the world wanted to protect their own partners. He knew he could never introduce you to Dutch or Charles or Lenny or Hosea or Abigail, but that wasn’t your fault in the slightest; you couldn’t change something like that, although he was sure you would have tried if you could. 

With you, it wasn’t like with his other partners; you didn’t try to change him at all. You didn’t try and convince him to leave the only family he had ever known, you didn’t try to turn him into a gentleman.

You were content with Arthur the way he was, although you did keep telling him off for shaving, which never failed to make him laugh. You didn’t tell him to change the way he spoke, to try and take away his strong, thick working class accent.

Never once. You didn’t try to tell him that he had to speak “properly”, or that he had to watch how much he swore. The Arthur you had in front of him was the one you were content with, the one you loved. 

You always made that known to him, that you loved him just as he was; you noticed a few times when you were first together that he often tried to make himself into someone different, and since then, you always felt like you had to tell him - you didn’t want him to be somebody else, you didn’t want him to try and act like somebody else.

You wanted Arthur Morgan.

You didn’t want somebody else, you didn’t want an actor, you wanted the outlaw you had fallen in love with.

The outlaw you adored.

#mlem writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x yn #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan oneshot #arthur morgan one shot #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #rdr 2 #rdr 2 fanfiction #rdr 2 x reader

[twilightmalachite]

Shu Itsuki - The Beauty of Distance

Author: Umeda Chitose

Characters: Shu, Kuro

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Non! You mustn’t use such expressions in a public space! Watch your language!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Summer

Location: Café COCHI

Shu: (A cup of tea after returning to the country truly is good for the body.)

(The storefront doesn’t appear to be busy either, so I can stay here for some time… Hm?)

(How come a shadow’s suddenly fallen on my table—)

Shu: !? Ryu~ku… I mean, Kiryu! What are you doing outside the window?

You’re pointing over at my seat… Do you want to come in and sit at the same table as me?

Ah, goodness, trying to converse through the glass will only bring attention. How about you just come on in?

Time passes…

Kuro: …Yo.

Shu: Quite the greeting you have there. You should be telling me what had you appearing outside the window out of nowhere.

Kuro: What’s the rush for? It’d be rude if I took a seat without orderin’ anythin’, wouldn’t it?

Shu: Hmph. Then hurry up and order yourself something to drink.

Kuro: I told you I’m choosin’ one now. Well, I suppose orderin’ ice tea would be a safe bet.

Shu: —Goodness. I was planning to take it easy for a bit, but to think you would show up.

Kuro: Take it easy and don’t mind me, then. Well, I’m the one who imposed himself onto ya, so guess I’m not one to speak.

Shu: …So, what do you need from me?

Kuro: Just spotted ya and thought to say hi since you’ve returned to Japan.

But well, there’s somethin’ I wanted from ya too. Or well, somethin I wanted to ask ya.

Shu: What do you want to ask?

Kuro: It’s about when I went to France with ya to film for a travel show. There was that incident involvin’ ya, remember? Y’know, the one with the erotic stuff appearin’.[1]

Shu: Non! You mustn’t use such expressions in a public space! Watch your language!

Kuro: …My bad. Didn’t know how else to describe it.

Anyways. Just was wonderin’ about that, if the incident was resolved, y’know. Since we sorta had to leave at a critical point.

Shu: …Sigh. I don’t believe you have the right to know, given you left me for dead at a crucial moment.

But it’s not like I’ve heard anything about the rest of your trip either. Did you get to finish filming?

Kuro: I heard the feature itself is still bein’ edited, but we should’ve gotten some good footage?

Shu: ? That’s quite the vague answer.

Kuro: …To be honest, what left the biggest impression on me was how the flight home was also really tough.

Shu: Good grief. Why don’t you just ask not to be given anything that requires you to be overseas, given you’re so poor with vehicles?

Kuro: ‘Cause we rookie idols ain’t in any position to selfish demands like that.

Shu: Don’t care, give your opinion regardless. You don’t want things like that to negatively affect your health.

Kuro: …Haha, how come your responses to me are always so snappy, Itsuki?

I felt we were able to speak rather peacefully all the way over there. Was it somethin’ about the foreign atmosphere?

Shu: Was it peaceful? Morisawa and Tsukinaga were there, I just have the strong impression that it was quite noisy. What did you and I even get to talk about…?

Shu & Kuro: ……

—By the way… (That reminds me…)

Shu: What is it?

Kuro: Oh no, it’s not a big deal, what were you sayin’?

Shu: Neither is what I had to say… I’ve got a favor for you since you’re here, but it’s nothing important.

Kuro: A favor?

Sounds good, lemme know what ya got for me…♪

Shu: Why are you so pleased? I’ve just figured to ask if you could carry my luggage.

I’m currently here at COCHI after leaving my luggage back at ES.

But my luggage contains my personal tools and such, so I’d like to bring them back to Starmony Dorms myself. However, with the luggage quantity, I don’t believe I can make it in one trip.

So I thought perhaps you could help me out, so I wouldn't have to go back and forth.

Kuro: That's all? No sweat!

Though…

Shu: Are there any concerns?

Kuro: It’s ‘bout our room. I haven’t heard anythin’ ‘bout Sena returnin’ to the country, so I’m assumin’ it’s more or less available, but…

Isara and I have been real busy, so we haven’t been able to give the place a good clean lately. Had I known you were comin’ in advance, I would’a gotten it clean.

Shu: Hm… That being said, you guys aren’t all too messy, right?

Kuro: Yeah. But if I knew ya were comin’, I could’ve taken the chance to hang and fluff up your beddin’ while cleanin’ up, y’know?

I’ll at least use the dryer to freshen it up for tonight. ♪

Shu: …As usual, you act as if you’re my mother.

Kuro: Hey, what’re you takin’ my bill for?

Shu: We’ve each finished our drinks, so it’s about time we leave. Though, I haven’t heard what you were going to say yet.

Kuro: I’m ready to tell ya ‘bout that anytime, but ya didn’t answer my question.

Shu: …As thanks for carrying my luggage. I’m going to go pay our for our bills, so you can wait outside.

Kuro: …And off he goes. He really doesn’t need to thank me for that…

Location: In Front of ES Building

Kuro: …That is a lot of luggage. Definitely not somethin’ you could’ve done in a single trip.

Shu: I’ll take the trunks, and you can take the suitcases… But isn’t it about time I hear about what you had wanted to say, Kiryu?

Kuro: Jumpin’ right to it, arentcha… Let’s start headin’ towards the dorms if you’re ready. …But it really ain’t that big a deal.

Shu: Still, it’s something you wanted to tell me. It wouldn’t be fair if you only had heard me out, wouldn’t it?

Kuro: ……

…A new shop opened on Time Street recently. It’s small, but they have a pretty impressive selection of stuff.

They carry those rare fabrics and threads you always seem to be orderin’ and buyin’, too.

So, I thought ya would like the place too, Icchan. I thought I’d let ya know, since I doubt ya hear ‘bout this stuff bein’ overseas and all.

Shu: ……

…Kagehira and others fill me in on things from time to time, you know… But this is the first I’ve heard about a shop like this.

Kuro: Really? Even I just found the place only the day before last.

Shu: I’ll head there right away once we drop off the luggage. This shop’s selection that you’re praising so much has piqued my curiosity.

Kuro: Jumpin’ right to it, arentcha… Wait, didn’t I just say that?

But well, ya don’t know how to get there, don’t ya? I don’t got anythin’ goin’ on after this, so I’ll show ya the way.

Shu: …I’m sure I can just figure out the way from others. But if you’d like to show me the way, then you’re welcome to.

Kuro: Alright. And ya can tell me ‘bout how that incident went while we’re at it!

Shu: Kiryu… Is that all you wanted to hear about in the end?

In that case, you can tell me everything you can remember about your trip, then.

We can try talking about what we’ve been up to in a normal way, can’t we? …It didn’t feel right hearing that we can’t interact peacefully in this country.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

Referring to the incident from Astraea’s Atelier. For context, uncensored paintings and statues began to mysteriously appear in Shu’s atelier from time to time, causing him a lot of stress. Shu, Chiaki, Kuro, and Leo theorized it was one of Shu’s artist fans and beneficiaries leaving their art throughout Shu’s atelier in hopes of having their art recognized by him instead after having been dismissed as “vulgar” by him.

#shu itsuki #idol #translation #kuro kiryu

[whereismyhat5678]

Guys. When Brick was introduced to the idea of behind the ear scratches, his entire world changed.

I’d imagine the tower was an absolute nightmare for the big rats. They’d occasionally run into things that could possibly hurt them or even worse, kill them. The Peppino clones to the regular enemies Peppino hits they all troubled the poor things and they never caught a break. And the only reason they stayed there cuz they were sorta trapped, once they entered they couldn’t leave or find an exit.

Brick ran into many things, many things he didn’t like and many things that did end up trying to kill him so he was DEFENSIVE. I’d imagine the reason he started chasing Gustavo was because he immediately thought he was gonna hurt him.

Once they started to fight Gustavo realized how fucking RUTHLESS Brick fought (of course because he was an animal but also cuz of the defense nature). So when they stopped, Gustavo wanted to make up with him.

Brick found out the tremendous glories of pets, he didn’t get any because….well….y’know he was a stray rat- So this feeling was something different. He actually felt pretty safe…which was new! He was cautious at first of course but he soon learned Gustavo wasn’t going to hurt him….he didn’t feel threatened by his presence anymore, he didn’t feel he had to hide like he did with other creatures. He felt relaxed. He felt he was actually going to be okay. And every time Gustavo were to pet him, he felt extremely emotional. He never felt this way, he never experienced this type of affection, or even affection at all!…..

I think Gustavo just naturally likes animals, so he tried to get close to him at first but realized he couldn’t, he had to build trust first. Which they did! Gustavo treated Brick like a sorta person, but also like a pet, where he’d pet him and such. He found it quite odd Brick knew how to smoke a pipe and how to cook for some reason- but he didn’t question it.

The more they grew, the more Brick started to like Gustavo. He saw him as someone he could finally feel safe with. Anything and everything in that tower could hurt him, but Gustavo?…It was a nice change of pace.

Brick is attached to Gustavo. I will die on this hill to say if he isn’t the type of pet to wait for you ALL DAY beside the front door for you to come back I don’t know what life is anymore.

That’s it. I wanted to ramble about Brick because I think he deserves more attention. We love him, he needs love, people, please treat this guy well he’s been through it.

#Pizza Tower #THIS IS ALL HEADCANNONS PLEASE DONT GO AFTER ME- #But still Brick is protective AS FUCK #I think Brick needs love. Give him ALL THE BELLY RUBS #Brick now has a comfy cozy bed and get’s to sleep inside a warm safe home #Sometimes he’ll be let on Gustavo’s bed and be treated good. Getting the good scratches behind the ears #Please guys let me live I wanna see Brick be happy and joyful #Don’t abuse this poor baby #Brick #Gustavo #Gustavo and Brick

[travlersjoy444]

On the Road to Nowhere

2012 Raph x Reader

Mutant Apocalypse timeline

Summary: After the mutagen bomb goes off, you manage to save Raph and Donnie. Sort of. Dealing with new bodies, memory loss, missing brothers and friends...was maybe not how any of you wanted your adult lives to go, but the world has changed beyond repair.

So with a heavy heart, you and your battered dream team set off onto the road to nowhere.

In other words, the early days of the Mutant Apocalypse.

Warnings: Angst, sadness, the characters cry a lot, bittersweet ending, really hefty word count, implied capriltello but it's in the background, Raphael is trans in this because it's my fic and my rules

Word count: 13.6k

***

Day 0.

  Donnie was hooked up to some machine of theirs, trying as hard as he could to save his brain as their body was mangled beyond repair, Casey was texting you nonstop, Mikey and Leo were MIA, Raph was curled up on the couch, and you were sitting on the floor trying to process everything.

CaseyjONES:

R you guys okay??? No ones responding. Me and april are at my house 

CaseyjONES:

(Y/N) seriously what’s going on? I know you can see this i see your read symbol

CaseyjONES:

Where are you guys???

  Oh yeah. Now that you were done attaching Donnie to his one shot at survival, you could stop ignoring Casey’s texts. Nice.

You:

Sorry Case’ I was kinda preoccupied for a bit there

You:

Leo n Mikey are missing. Donnie and I retreated back into the lair. Raph is freaking out, I think he hit his head. Would ask Dee, but Dee is compromised. 

CaseyjONES:

Compromised???

You:

They fell off a building and got impaled. Is currently uploading his consciousness into an old Metalhead prototype. Very horrifying to witness. Status update, I feel like throwing up.

CaseyjONES:

…

CaseyjONES:

Shit

You:

Shit indeed

You: 

Anyways, I’m mostly uninjured. Arm mighta gotten mildly sprained but y’know what i’ll worry bout that later. Lair is a mess, only thing really salvageable was the lab. Probably gonna leave as soon as dee is stable. How are you guys?

CaseyjONES:

My sister got mutated. Last thing she touched was our cat so now she’s got claws. Shes freakin out and aprils trying to calm her down with empath powers or whatever. My dad is MIA but good riddance if ya ask me. Broke mty arm so im typing this with 1 hand, and april sprained her ankel. The cat has miraculously survived + is sittig w/ me on the couch wich is pretty cool ngl

You:

So youre all stable???

CaseyjONES:

Yea

You:

Oh thank god

You: 

Cas my phones about to die. Dee n i will contact ya soon as theyre stable. Love ya. Stay safe or i’ll kill u

CaseyjONES:

Cool cool. Love you too. keep everyone+urself safe. Hopefully we;ll see yo soon.

  You sighed as your phone clicked off, definitively cutting off your final connection to your friends.

  Raph whimpered behind you in one of the most un-Raph like ways you’d ever heard, and you turned around.

  “Raph? You okay?” You rasped.

  He was curled around himself tightly, rocking back and forth.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He whispered, tears in his eyes.

  You winced. You were guessing he had some form of amnesia, or some kind of damage to the hippocampus.

   “I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). You’re my best friend, but I think you hit your head in all the chaos.” You said slowly, feeling your heart sink even further.

  He gave a strangled sob and shoved his face into his knee pads. “I hate this. Who the fuck am I?”

  “You’re Raphael Hamato. You’re the son of Splinter or Hamato Yoshi. You’re the brother of Donatello, Leonardo, and Michelangelo, and the father of Chompy Picasso. You’re the best friend ever to me. You hit your head when Leo saved us from the mutagen bomb. I’m pretty sure it is currently the end of the known world.” You answered slowly, robotically. You were half-aware of how you were saying it for your own sanity as much as you were for Raph’s.

  “Where are we?” Raph said, voice trembling in a way that seemed so out of character.

  “Your home. Well. Sorta. It kinda got partially destroyed, there were a lotta cave ins.” You said numbly, standing up. “D’ya wanna tour? See if it…I’unno, sparks a few memories?”

  He pressed his shell to the back of the couch, scooting away from you. “D’you think that’ll help? …How do I know I can trust you?”

  “...C’mere.” You said, waving towards Donnie’s bulletin board in the back of the lab. Hesitantly, Raph followed after you, though not without a groan of pain.

  “That’s you.” You murmured, unpinning a photo of a smiling Raph and Casey as they posed in front of a wall you’d all spray painted. “I took this photo when we were fifteen, about three years ago. That human is Casey Jones, our close friend.”

  Raph took the photo, squeezing it lightly in his shaky hands. “Show me another.” He demanded.

  “Here’s you and I at the farmhouse.” You smiled fondly at the memory. “I was bored and convinced you to let me give you eyeliner.” Photo-Raph was scowling at the camera, with his arms crossed and pointy winged liner around his eyes. Photo-you was grinning proudly, holding the eyeliner pen with one hand and giving photo-Raph a side-hug with the other.

  Real-Raph accepted the photo. “That’s me, then?”

  “Yeah.” 

  “Why don’t I look like you and this guy?”

  “We’re humans. You’re a mutant.” You said simply. “A turtle/human hybrid, like your siblings.” 

  You pointed to a group shot. “The one with the blue mask is Leonardo, orange is Mikey, and purple is…uhm. Well, purple was Donnie...” You said, trying to choke back tears as you stared at the photo. “I-is any of this…y’know, ringing any bells?” You managed to mumble out through your tears. 

  Raph shook his head. “No.”

  “Oh.” You said, feeling a fresh new wave of dread wash over you. You took a deep breath. “Well. That’s not ideal.” 

  “Where are the other…turtles?” Asked Raph, clearly hesitant to call these supposed strangers his siblings, which nearly broke you even further.

  “Mikey and Leo are missing, and Donnie…” You sighed. “Well, I’d probably better just show you.”

  You lead him over to the table where Donnies mutilated body sat underneath a sheet. Wires ran from underneath it and connected to a tiny Metalhead robot.

  “What’s…wrong with him?” Raph said softly, reaching for the sheet.

  “Don’t.” You breathed, brushing his hand away. “You don’t wanna see it, trust me. They fell off a building and got impaled by shrapnel and debris. Their body isn’t exactly pretty or…y’know. Recognizable as Donatello.”

  “They’re dead?” Raph asked, and the tinge of discomfort in his voice wasn’t nearly enough for the situation- the Raph you knew would be yelling and crying and screaming, not…not being mildly uncomfortable in the way that one is when a stranger dies.

  “Yes and no. He’s uploading his brain into that robot. There’s only about an hour left before it loads. After that, we’re outta here for good. The scavengers’ll be coming soon, so we havta get a move on sooner than later.” You said, an empty hollow feeling in your chest as you said the words ‘for good’. 

  It just felt so real.

  “C’mon. Let’s see if your room has anything salvageable.” You grunted, leaving Donnie’s body behind.

  Raph’s room had partially caved in, but the front of it still looked okay. His drum set sat undamaged in the corner, though you doubted there was room for it in the Shellraiser, so it was a moot point.

  Raph stared vacantly at the place that had once mattered so much to him, without a single hint that he recognized any of it in his empty features. You wanted to hug him so bad. Maybe more for your own comfort than for his. 

  But then again, you needed the familiar hug of your best friend…not this vacant eyed empty shell of a turtle who didn’t recognize you.

  “Oh hey look. That box says ‘photos’ on it.” Raph said lightly, pointing at a dusty shoebox that sat under the bed and breaking you out of your spiralling thoughts.

  “It also says ‘do not touch’.” You pointed out.

  “Yeah well, I think I’d want me to know what’s in my own ‘do not touch’ box.” Raph grunted, sounding like his old sarcastic self again for just a moment.

  You held your hands up and stepped aside, and Raph scooped up the box. 

  He took off the lid, and picked up one of the photos. “...Who’s Venus?” He said, holding up a photo of a little turtle in a red bow with the label ‘Venus De Milo’. 

  You frowned, staring at the photo in confusion. Judging by the line drawn over the word ‘Venus’, Raph clearly had not wanted you to know about it, but the name didn’t ring any bells. “Actually, I don’t know. I’ve never met a Venus. Maybe you guys had some long lost sister that no one told me about?”

  “Seriously? What kinda soap opera bullshit would that be?” Raph snorted.

  “I mean. It wouldn’t be the first time.” You shrugged. 

  “...Wait, really?”

  “S’okay, we’ll ask Donnie.” You said. “Now…I’m pretty sure you’d want me to save your sketchbook and paints. Your canvases too, but we don’t have room for that.”

  He swallowed, flipping through the sketchbook you’d handed him, tracing over the doodles on the cover. “Fuck. I…I don’t remember any of these.” He murmured, not even bothering to wipe the tears from under his mask.

  “And I…I can’t find Chompy.” You whispered, rifling around his room a final time. “Shit. Shit shit shit. M-maybe he ran away…” You trailed off, wiping your face with your torn-up shirtsleeve.

  “Chompy?”

  You looked away from him. “Chompy Picasso. Alien turtle. Your son, basically...and I-I can’t fucking find him anywhere. Hopefully he got out before we came here, otherwise…” You swallowed a sob. 

  Raph stared at you, looking sick. “I had a son? But aren’t we…teenagers?” He said, his voice devoid of the raging grief he would have felt before, and replaced with a look of discomfort and horror at being a stranger to his own life.

  “An adoptive son, practically, yeah. And you…you loved him so, so much…He was so fucking cute…” You cried, your voice cracking. “Shit, Raph. You don’t remember Chompy…”

  “Shit.” He agreed, staring at the ground.

***

  Donnie was stable now, opening and closing his new metal hands.

  “How’s Raph?” They said. Their voice had taken on a metallic ring, though it still sounded like Donnie at its core.

  “Brain damage. He’s got brain damage.” You answered, glancing over to the far side of the lab where Raph sat, flipping through his box of photos.

  “What?!”

  “He doesn’t remember anything. That’s why he's keeping his distance. Said it feels weird.” 

  “Memory loss.” Donnie said, and the creaking breathy sounds that followed could only be described as crying although his new metal face remained neutral. 

  You held out your arms and Donnie fell into them, shaking and sobbing but not really. They were so small now, which felt wrong, because Donnie had always been close to your height if not taller.

  Well, it didn’t matter. This was Donnie now, and that stranger in the corner staring at the photos was Raph, and that haggard looking human in the mirror was you.

  Day 0 of the apocalypse and you were already all falling apart at the seams.

  Nice.

***

Day 1.

  Raph forgot his own name for a few hours, and Donnie panicked. He’d say to you later that it was nice to know his circuitry was still capable of having a panic attack, but his voice would be hollow. Well, more so than it was already with that robotic tremor to his voice. 

  But at the moment, you were sitting with your arms around a trembling Metalhead who was actually Donatello, and making uncomfortable eye contact with Raph who sat across from you on the floor of the Shellraiser.

  His bright green eyes were narrowed in frustration, and his plastron rose and fell quicker than usual. He was probably hyperventilating. 

  You kept your distance. When you’d tried to comfort him earlier, he’d tried to shank you with a piece of glass he’d found on the ground. You didn’t hold it against him, really- he’d yelled “Who the hell are you?! Stay back!” first, so you at least knew it wasn’t out of malice.

  And it also meant that he was more damaged than you and Donnie had originally thought. 

  Probably permanently, Donnie had said through gasping breaths before he realized he didn’t actually need air anymore. 

  Fuck. 

  “I’m sorry, Raph.” You found yourself saying, because you were. It may have stung having him try to hurt you, but what stung more was the look of pure fear and confusion in his face. 

  He broke eye contact with you and dropped his face onto his knee pads again, slumping over in shame and sorrow. 

  “I’m sorry (Y/N), Donatello.” He replied, voice slightly muffled by his legs, which were pulled to his chest.

  “Don’t be.” You muttered. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to.”

  Donnie nodded. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve treated you sooner, then you might’ve stood a chance-”

  “Shut up Donatello. If you had done that then you woulda bled out and died and you are not allowed to fucking die on me, we clear?” You hissed, squeezing his metal shoulders.

  “I did die, (Y/N).” Donnie said flatly, pointing at the bag that held their body.

  “Shit.” You said, letting your gaze follow his finger as you let it finally sink in that yeah you were talking to Donnie, but also that was his fucking corpse in the back of the Shellraiser. “Shit shit shit. You’re still with us, but like…man this is fucked up, huh? You’re not dead, Don, you’re still you, but…”

  “What if I’m not?! I’m a robot! Maybe the real Donatello is dead! What if I’m just a really good simulation?! What if I just think I’m panicking because it’s what Donatello would do?” He exclaimed, tugging on Metalhead’s antennae when he would usually tug on his mask tails.

  “Well if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure human emotions are a physical chemical reaction too. So one could argue that I’m just freaking out because the chemicals in my brain are reacting rather than me actually feeling things, right?” You offered.

  “...I guess…Look I think I'm gonna go into sleep mode now, okay? It’s been a long day.” They sighed.

  “Yeah, okay. See ya tomorrow, Don. Love you.” You said, patting his shoulder. 

  “Ditto.” They said, and then the lights went out in their eyes.

  Raph sighed, staring at his sibling. “It feels weird being taller than them for some reason.” He grunted, breaking the silence.

  “Oh, you remember that?” You said hopefully.

  “Nah. I guess it just….feels weird. I dunno.”

  “Well…Yeah it really does. Donnie always towered over you and Leo. Mikey hit a growth spurt like two years ago and wound up almost as tall, and you nearly cried at that...” You rambled, smiling. 

  “Oh. That explains it, I guess.” Raph snorted. “Was I…taller than Leo? Just out of curiosity, of course…” He added, looking hopeful.

  “Nah. Leo’s 5’2ish. You are 5’1.” 

  “...Fuck.” Raph cursed. “That is unfair, y’know that?”

  “You complained about it often.” You smiled. “It was kinda adorable.”

  “Adorable?” Raph said, wrinkling his snout.

  “Yeah. Ha. I uh….called you that a lot, guess it’s kinda a habit. Not because you’re short but because I thought you were cute. Uh…by which I mean good-looking, not cute like a kitten or something.” You said with a shrug. “Not that it really matters.”

  “Oh. That’s cool then, I guess.” Raph said with a slight smile.

  You smiled. “So I can keep callin’ you adorable?”

  “Sure. Knock yourself out.” 

  You glanced out the window of the Shellraiser. It was still too bright out to travel safely to Casey’s apartment, with too many angry mindless mutants destroying everything in sight. You and Donnie had agreed to wait till the cover of night to head over there, in hopes that the new mutants would retain their usual sleep schedule.

  “Damn. How long’ll this take?” You mumbled. It was six in the evening, but still bright as ever outside…

  A pink thing slammed into the front camera, sending you falling back in shock.

  Upon further inspection, it appeared to be a once-human that had been nearly swallowed by brainy, vein-covered tendrils. You choked back a gag.

  Raph swallowed and clicked the camera off, looking greener than usual as the image faded.

  “Ugh. Gross.” You whispered.

  “So I’m assuming that things weren’t alway like this, right?” Raph said softly.

  “Nope. You, my friend, would much prefer the Old World…” You paused, having a realization. “Shit. I bet that if this were a transcript, ‘Old World’ would be fucking capitalized.” 

  “So….there’s no way to undo whatever happened?”

  “Nah. Dee’s run the numbers. The odds of the Earth bouncing back from this…are in the negatives.” You said, unable to summon anything other than an empty sigh.

  “...What was your Earth like?” Raph asked, raising his brow ridge as he stared at you gently, as if you were some sorta fragile ceramic that could break at any minute.

  Or as if you were a tearful human who’s world had just turned upside down.

  You heaved a sigh, and sat down next to him on the floor.

  “Well…there were trees yesterday. Green trees, not those crystal lookin’ things in Central Park that we saw this morning. And yesterday, this was New York, and it was full of people, not…those brain mutants and animal hybrids and…fuckin’  masses of organs suspended in jello. I dunno how far reaching the mutation bomb was, but Dee’s scanners have picked up on stuff as far as Florida to the south and Quebec to the north, and that’s not even counting the ones that went off on the West Coast and outside of America. Whatever it was that terraformed the Earth did a fucking good job.” You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest.

  “So the old world really is the Old World.” Raph breathed. 

  “Yup. I…I don’t think we’ll ever get our homes back, Raphael.” You whispered. 

  Yesterday morning when you’d said something like that, Raph had pulled you into a wordless hug and you’d pressed your face into his chest and cried. 

  This evening as you sat on the floor crying, Raph stared at you sadly but kept his distance.

  And you were reminded once again that you really were alone.

***

You: Casey we’re headed over

You: Read ya messages case

You: Dude seriously, are you guys okay?

Sent: 4hrs ago, unread

You: We’re here…

Sent: 1hr ago, unread

***

  “Case’? Casey?” You yelled, wandering through his apartment. “April…”

  “April! Casey!” Donnie yelled even louder than you. His face couldn’t emote, but his voice was high and desperate, and you were pretty sure they were twice as nervous as you were.

  “He hasn’t replied to any messages since like three pm, and we’ve searched this dump for like an hour. I don’t think your friends are here, guys.” Raph sighed, crossing his arms. 

  “Shut up!” You and Donnie chorused, and Raph rolled his eyes. 

  “Fine, whatever! We’ll just stay here forever then I guess!” He snapped.

  “Yeah well maybe we’re not being big babies, Raph! Don’t you care about finding Casey?!”

  “I don’t know who the fuck Casey is!” Raph growled.

  Donnie deflated. “...You’re right. I…I’m sorry, Raph. I forgot that you’re…y’know.”

  “Brain damaged? Nice. Can’t fucking relate.” Raph grunted.

  You exhaled through your nose. “Sorry Rafa. We’re just…we really wanted this lead…” Shit you were crying again. 

  “It’s just…I miss them so much. Casey and April mattered a lot to us, and to you, and we thought they’d….we thought they’d be here, but we’ve lost their signal and now I don’t fucking know what to do…” You whimpered, burying your face into your scarf.

  Donnie tried to pat you on the shoulder but only succeeded in reaching to the small of your back.

  “I miss  them too. Well Raph…Casey and April…well, they mattered a ton to me and it just…is so scary to consider that they might…” 

  They didn’t finish the sentence, but you knew what they meant. 

  That they might be dead. 

  Raph stared at both of you with a grimace, seeming to pick up on the meaning too.

***

Day 15.

  Raph stared at the photos a lot, not recognizing any of them.

  Sometimes he woke up on the floor of the subway car that you, his supposed ‘best friend’, and Donnie, the robot who claimed to be his brother, had dubbed the ‘Shellraiser’. He’d sit there trying to remember where he was, only for him to slowly remember waking up in rubble to a wide pair of (E/C) eyes.

  That was always what he remembered first. 

  Then he’d remember the smell of smoke and something he didn’t have a name for, and the feeling of someone hugging him close to their chest and whispering “It’s okay it’s okay-shit- Dee, he’s not waking up, he’s not- Oh my god Donnie, your- your plastron-”

  He’d opened his eyes a crack to see humans mutating, screaming in horror, before someone shifted his head, and then all he could see was fabric.

  Then he was on an unfamiliar couch with someone squeezing his hand. “Donnie…that’s a thing that’s possible?”

  “No, but do I have any other option?!”

  “...Shit Dee, you- you can’t die on me-”

  “I won’t. I swear I won’t, (Y/N). If my theories are concrete, which they have an-” The voice paused to take a laboured breath. “-an 86.3% chance of being, then my consciousness will- shit that hurts- my consciousness will be uploaded into Metalhead…”

  Raph didn’t remember how that conversation had ended, which he was very okay with. 

  Then after that the other things would begin to come back. Right. Right, he was Raphael, and these two people used to matter a lot to him in the Before Times, supposedly.

  He didn't remember either of you, if he was honest. But if the notes on his Past Self’s photos were trustworthy, then you especially meant the world to him once. 

  He held up a photo of you in different, cleaner clothes. Your eyes were brighter, and you were grinning harder than you ever had now. The note on the back read ‘Reference photo 4 drawing (Y/N)’ in a messy script with a heart drawn next to it. Below it, in smudged print, it said ‘I feel creepy for staring at this for so long… Shit why did I write that down?’

  He frowned and looked at another. This one was of a purple-ish pink turtle that gave the camera a wide smile, and the notation on the back said ‘Chompy I love you so fucking much but stop burning my paper please’

  The next photo wasn’t a photo but a drawing. It was a rough sketch of a human hugging a baby turtle that was drawn in pink, with soft shading and a lot of smudges. The back of this one said ‘Shitty drawing of (Y/N) and Chompy. Felt bad throwing it away though for some reason, idk’

  Raph wrinkled his snout. He disagreed with his Past Self, he thought the drawing looked kinda cute. Still, he’d respect Past Raph’s wishes and hide it away in the ‘Don’t Touch Box’. 

  He looked at the next picture. Venus again. 

  There were a lot of photos in the Don’t Touch Box of this ‘Venus De Milo’, and Raph hadn’t gotten any closer to an answer as to who she was. Heck, there were a few photos where she was completely crossed out with no further commentary. Not that it made much of a difference though, since the commentary that was there was ridiculously unhelpful. ‘Took another one of Sensei’s Venus photos. I wish he’d just let me burn all of them, but instead he just gave me this box and told me to hide them here instead of destroying all our childhood photos. Ugh. I hate them so much, obviously you know why, future me.’

  No, I do not. Why are you so cryptic, Past Me?! Raph clicked in frustration, throwing the Venus photos back into the box. 

  “Lookin’ at Sensei’s old photos, Raph?” Said Donnie, making Raph jump back in surprise. 

  “Dammit, you’re awake?!”

  “Yeah, just finished…charging.” Donnie sighed. “That still feels so weird to say.”

  “Well, you’ve only been like this for…what, a week? Two?” Raph said dryly. 

  “...Yeah. I miss being…tall.” Donnie said softly. Raph got the vibe that they’d actually meant something else, but he didn’t feel like unpacking that right now.

  “I miss you being tall.” Raph agreed. “Maybe that’s a good sign as far as memory stuff goes though.”

  “...Hey, maybe it is, Raph! That’s actually really good!” Donnie said, their voice perking up while their face remained uncannily blank.

  “...Cool.” Raph said. “...Hey, Donnie, who was Venus?”

  Donnie jolted. “-Oh. Right. You found those pictures… I actually forgot about- well. Venus… You’re a transman, Raph, and Venus was your name back before you realized you were a boy.”

  Raph frowned. “I’m a…what?”

  “Well…when we were kids, Splinter named you Venus De Milo because you were physically a girl. Then when we were like thirteen or fourteen you told us that you actually were our brother, not our sister, so Sensei changed your name to Raphael.” Donnie said slowly.

  Raph…did not like that information at all. “So…I’m not a boy?”

  “No you are, it just took a bit of time for you to realize it.” Donnie shrugged. 

  “Good. I…do not like the name Venus.” Raph grunted.

  “Yeah, when we were little you used to make us call you ‘Milo’ instead.” Donnie chuckled. “Splinter was so confused, but he just wanted you to be happy at the end of the day, really…”

  Raph swallowed. “Uhh…Donatello, who’s…Splinter?”

  Donnie’s neck sparked. “Right. Right right right…Raph, Splinter was our dad.” 

  “Oh.” He should know that. What kinda person didn’t even recognize their own father?! 

  Why couldn’t he remember the things that made Past Raph so happy?

  Well he didn’t even remember that he was a fucking girl, so clearly he wasn’t the best judge-

  “G’mornin’ guys” You yawned, leaning over the passenger’s seat where Raph had perched.

  Raph shook his head clear and looked back at you. “Hi.”

  “How’s the new body coming, Don?” You asked, stretching your arms.

  “I’m almost done with the shell. I’ve made it segmented this time so that I can actually bend over, see?” They said, bending the large shell made of sewer plates.

  “Oh. That’s really rad, Dee.” You said proudly.

  “Yeah, I’m sick of being shorter than Raph.” He chuckled. “I can't wait to finish this model.”

  “Wait, you’re making a new new body?” Raph frowned. “Did I know about that?”

  “Yeah, I told you yesterday, you must have forgotten... S’okay though. Here’s the design, I made these blueprints months ago.”

  “How come? What’s wrong with this robot?” Raph said, glancing over the taller, sleeker design sketch Donnie had handed him.

  Donnie shrugged. “I guess…this is Metalhead’s body, not mine. And I want my body to feel like mine.”   “Oh. Okay, fair enough I guess?” Raph shrugged, not sure how that made sense. Donnie was in the body, so that made it his right? Why’d they need a new one?

  Whatever, Donnie could do what they wanted, he supposed.

  “I think it looks great.” You smiled, though it didn’t reach your eyes the way it did in the Don’t Touch Box photos. “I love the purple LEDs.”

  “Yeah, it looks nice.” Raph agreed. It really did; it was cleaner than Donnie’s current body, and seemingly more combat-effective if all the hidden blasters in the concept art were any clue. Plus it just looked cool as fuck.

  “Thanks. It should be finished in a few weeks…in the meantime though, (Y/N), we should discuss plans.”

  You nodded, following Donnie to the back of the Shellraiser.

  “We should go on a supply run, we’re low on perishable food and water.” You said, writing ‘supply run’ on the whiteboard Donnie had set up in the back. 

  “Okay, noted. Do we have enough non-perishables?”

  “Yeah. The drawers in the back are full of instant ramen and canned food.” You nodded.

  “So just the usual things then…shelter. What’re we gonna do about shelter?”

  “Yeah, I don’t really like it out here. Seems pretty sketchy.” Raph grunted, spinning around so that his plastron was pressed to the back of the chair and his head was rested on the top.

  “I vote we go to the farmhouse. You’ve run your scans, and I think we just needa….you know, accept that everyone is…out of range of the scanners. We’re just sitting ducks in New York, Don.” You sighed.

  Donnie clenched their fists. “I- I know, but like…what if they come back for us and we’re not here, (Y/N)? What if by leaving we forfeit our chances of finding Casey, April, Mikey, and Leo?”

  “Well what if we do? Who cares?” Raph argued. “They either left or they’re dead, Donatello! We should leave too if we wanna not be dead!”

  “Yeah well what do you know?! You don’t even know the extent of the damage!”

  “Yeah I do. Explode-y bomb things from here to the other side of the planet. Earth getting terraformed in some twisted reflection of the world you knew before. Humans turning into horrifying brainless monsters, and humans that turn into horrified monstrous mutants, and humans like (Y/N) who survived with trauma and dead friends. And friends that lose their memories. Yadayada, all that shit.” Raph said through gritted teeth. “Plus, I saw you guys fighting off those mutants in the last supply run, you barely escaped with your fucking tail attached. Long story short, I vote we get outta here as soon as possible.”

  You and Donnie looked at each other, blinking.

  “I vote what he votes.” You supplied.

  Donnie sighed. “You always did…fine. Fine, guys.  You win. But can we please just stay for one more night?”

  You shrugged. “Yeah, I think that seems fair. Raph?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Deal. We havta go on that supply run, anyways, so.”

  “Cool cool. So…farmhouse then, Dee?” You said hesitantly, as if you were afraid of hurting Donnie.

  Donnie just grunted. “I’m gonna go into sleep mode. You guys handle the supply run, I have to do some repairs from last time.”

  “Well that wasn’t really an answer.” You said flatly as Donnie’s lights went out again.

  “...No it was not.” Raph sighed. 

***

  “D’ya think I can pull off steel-toed boots?” You grinned, rapping your knuckles on the metal capped toes of a pair of leather combat boots.

  “Well…it seems efficient, so yeah, why not.” Raph shrugged.

  “Yeah, but would it look rad?” You pressed.

  Raph nodded. “It would look badass.”

  “Now that’s the answer I was lookin’ for.” You beamed, pulling on the boots.

  “Do you think I’d look cool in that jacket?” Raph asked, reaching for an aviator jacket. It was useful, from a practical standpoint, with tons of pockets and the ability to hold in warmth, but he didn’t really want it if it didn’t make him look like the characters on the covers of the comics he’d managed to salvage.

  “Raphael, you would look so cool in that jacket. You need it.” You nodded emphatically. “All we’d needa do is cut a hole for your shell.”

  “...Oh yeah. Forgot about that part.” Raph sighed, wrinkling his snout in disdain. His shell was kinda inconvenient. But then again, it did function as a fantastic natural armor, so pros and cons. He tossed the jacket into the hijacked cart anyways.

  You grabbed a tent from the shelf. “I think this’ll probably be useful down the line right?”

  “Well…it’s free, so might as well.”

  “Ooh, lookit this lifestraw!”

  “What the hell is a lifestraw?”

  “It filters water. Turns even the most contaminated junk into safely drinkable water. I’m surprised there’s even one left, this is gonna save our shells.”

  “You don’t have a shell, (Y/N).”

  “I’ve spent the past three years of my life surrounded almost entirely by people who do. Your jargon has worn off on me.”

  “What the hell is jargon?”

  “Your turtle-specific manner of speaking. Like swapping normal words for ‘shell’.”

  “Shit, we did that?”

  “Yeah. It was charming.”

***

  “(Y/N), what’s ‘feminine hygiene’?” Raph frowned, peering down an aisle.

  You glanced up, following his gaze. “Uh…y’know, girl stuff, don’t worry about it.”

  “Donnie said I’m a ‘transman’, so maybe I should.” Raph mumbled, feeling ill at the thought.

  You did a double take. “Wait what? Oh-kay, cool cool. Maybe you do need to worry about it.”

  Raph grunted and crossed his arms. “I dunno why, but I get a very odd, very uncomfortable feeling when you say that.”

  You swallowed, obvious nervousness in your eyes. “Well…that is fair. Raphael…allow me to remind you about the world of…feminine hygiene. Damn. I’m having to give my boyfriend- uh- my best friend- ‘the talk’, this feels weird!” You laughed. “Uh…so how do I put this. Once a month people with feminine body parts…bleed uncontrollably and you havta fix it with the stuff in this aisle! …Yayyyy!”

  Raph suddenly got a very vivid memory of sitting on the couch of the lair with a hot pack on his plastron and an angry feeling in his head.

  Shit, why was one of the few memories he had of the Old World one where he was bleeding in places he didn’t want to be?!

  He groaned and facepalmed. “This is shit, you know that? My life is shit.”

  “Periods ain’t fun.” You nodded. “I dunno if you turtles are affected the same way as humans though, so I could be totally wrong-”

  “No, no, I remember now. It’s the same. Basically.” Raph said, blushing bright red and glaring at the ground. “Aaand I’m calling it on that conversation.” He finished.

  You nodded. “I’ll allow it. Lemme know if you need any help figuring out what supplies you need-”

  “-nO I’m good!” Raph exclaimed. “How about you just get- get some other supplies right now?!” He grinned, trying to mask the discomfort that rose the longer he stood in this stupid aisle.

  You nodded. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I’ll be in the next aisle over, the first aid section, ‘kay?”

  “Great.” Raph replied.

  It was only after you’d left that he noticed that you’d called him your ‘boyfriend’ for a second there.

  Well. Well that was an interesting development. 

  Raph hated not having his memories. He was 99% positive that Past Raph would know exactly what you meant by that, but presently? Raph was just so, so confused.

  Maybe he had been your boyfriend in the Old World. If the photos counted for anything, Past Raph had probably liked you at some point- you showed up more often than anyone else, both in the photos and in his sketchbook. And he hadn’t even finished digging through them yet.

  And now instead of having good ol’ Past Raph to comfort you, you got this Raph. The Raph who had forgotten his own name a few days ago, the Raph who didn’t really know what to do when you cried, the Raph who was so sick of not knowing… 

  Heck, he was pretty sure you had been avoiding touching him, which felt just as weird as being taller than Donnie. Even in the photos, you always seemed to have an arm around him or a hand in his, but now you were careful not to stray within a few feet of him. As if he was some kinda ticking time bomb.

  Then again, he kinda was, huh? The last time you’d come near him, he’d tried to stab you in a panic. Maybe you were right to steer clear of him, though the thought of that just made him sad for some reason. 

  He paused and blinked at a mirror that sat at the end of the aisle.

  Huh. That really was what he looked like, all green skin and torn mask tails and neon eyes. 

  He looked tired.

  “Hey Rafa, lookit what I found!” You yelled, and Raph tore himself away from his reflection, dropping his armful of…feminine hygiene products into the cart before following your voice to the paint section.

  “Look dude! Spray paint!” You grinned, bouncing on your feet.

  Raph stared at you blankly, trying to understand your excitement. “Uh…did we…uhm…”

  An image flashed through his head of holding a can of spray paint and stepping back to look at a mural. 

  “...OH! Oh right! I used to like spray painting!” He exclaimed, pleased at the memory. “(Y/N) I remember it!”

  Your eyes widened. “You remember?! Oh Raph this is huge!”

  “...What d’ya say to painting a final mural before we leave the city, for….I dunno, old time’s sake?” Raph said with a hesitant smile.

  “Hell yeah!” You beamed, grabbing as many colors of spray paint as you could and dropping them into the cart. “Dee is in sleep mode so he can’t even stop us!”

  “Yes, I can.” 

  You fell back and dropped your phone. Raph’s fists flew into a fighting stance, observing the phone nervously.

  “Sorry ‘bout the scare guys.” Donnie’s voice chuckled, not sounding even slightly sorry. “I just discovered that I can access you through your phones! I’ll be back in sleep mode soon, I just thought that was a perfect time to test the audio feature.”

  “Wait, you can hear our conversations?” You frowned.

  “Uh….surprise?” Donnie said sheepishly. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t plan on stopping you from spray painting. It actually seems like it could both help Raph’s memory since it’s so familiar, as well as being just…a nice gesture. My one suggestion is that you add some way for Leo, Mikey, Casey, and April to find us, like a coded key to our whereabouts.”

  “Oh. That’s smart.” You said. “But can we get back to how you’ve been eavesdropping this whole time Donald?!”

  “Lalala, going into sleep mode, can’t hear you, lalala…” Donnie said, ever the terrible liar, and disconnected a second later.

  “That little shit.” You said fondly. “If you’re still listening, I love you, Don, but you’re a total jerk.”

  Raph shook his head, feeling the beginnings of a smile on his face. “If you’re still listening, then quit listening, Donatello.”

  But no reply came from the phone, so you shrugged. “Guess he actually is back in sleep mode. C’mon, let’s paint a mural.”

***

  Raph glared at the wall.

  The spray paint had gathered into a messy blob of color that did not look like a mural.

  The paint bottle felt natural in his hand, yeah, and his lines were steady, but they weren’t coming out right. He scowled and tried to cover the blob with a cloud of red, but then it didn’t look like a cloud, it just looked like blood.

  “AUGUHH!” He yelled in frustration, kicking the wall. He jumped back to hold his foot, which was now throbbing in pain. Shit, why was that his instinct?!

  “You good Raph?” You said, looking over from your side of the wall. Your mural looked nice, with a painting of two turtles, a skeleton, and a red haired girl with eyes that seemed to glow. They were all outlined in thick black and colored in vibrant shades, which made them pop against the gray wall.

  “Fine…” He grumbled, rubbing his foot. “I just- I can’t draw or something.”

  You followed his glare toward his bloody smear of a painting.

  “Oh…did you…”

  “Forget? Yeah. I fucking forgot how to draw.” He said with a humorless laugh.

  “Do you…want a crash course? We’ve still got an hour or so before we have to head out…” You offered.

  He shook his head. “No…we don’t have time. …Did you add the message?”

  You nodded, still staring at him sympathetically. “I wrote ‘guys, find us in the healing place- Red, Purple, and (L/N)’. They’ll know what I mean.”

  “The ‘healing place’?” Raph repeated.

  “The farmhouse.” You elaborated. “We went there back when the kraang invaded three years ago. Leo was in a coma for like three months, and y’know…healed. And I think we all kinda healed too. You were kinda the team leader for a bit there…” You trailed off, eyes glazing over as if you were reminiscing about something Raph undoubtedly wouldn’t understand. You shook your head clear. “...but you know, I think they’ll get it. More importantly, I don’t think anyone else will, so we can’t be followed. Not that we have any reason to be followed, I’m just paranoid.” 

  “Aren’t we like…ninjas with like a million enemies or whatever?”

  You snorted. “Kinda, yeah.”

  “...So the idea that we might be followed doesn’t seem that outlandish, right?” Raph ventured.

  “Hm. Thanks for justifying my paranoia, Raphael!” You exclaimed, not looking any happier.

  “...Uh…I’m gonna say you’re welcome, but I get the funny feeling that you don’t actually mean that, huh?” He said sheepishly,

  “No, I…I dunno.” You said with a humorless laugh. “I’m being weird.”

  “It’s literally the end of your world. You should be acting weird, right?” Raph snorted.

  You smiled half-heartedly. “Ya think?”

  “Donnie’s acting weird, I’m acting weird. You can act weird too.” He said matter-of-factly.

  You sighed. “But that’s just the thing. Donnie lost their body. You lost your past. What the hell did I lose? …You know, aside from my friends…and family…and my old life…but you guys lost that too!”

  “I really didn’t. You can’t miss what you don't remember, right?” Raph said with a hollow laugh. “I have no Old World. No old connections. The world we’re in now is basically all I’ve ever known, so if anything, I’ve lost…the least.”

  You stared at him, a discomforting sense of horror in your eyes. You raised your hands as if to set them on his shoulders, but then lowered them instead. 

  “Raph…Fuck. No! You’ve lost everything! Like, way more than I have! At least I still have good memories to go back to, o-of you, of Chompy, of Leo and Casey and Mikey and April…of Mona, Raph, I still have memories of Mona, and you don’t even have that…” You wiped your eyes with your scarf and shook your head. “Shit, man. We’re all going through hell, I shouldn’t bother comparing it.”

  “Yeah….yeah. That’s a good way of lookin’ at it.” Raph sighed.

  “...Who's Mona?” He asked lightly, after a beat of silence.

  You smiled slightly. “Mona Lisa? She’s this really awesome Salamandrian who we met in space.”

  “We went to space?!” Raph said, eyes widening.

  “Yup. It was very convoluted… Anyways, we both had this ridiculous crush on her…she was so cool. She could beat us at fighting easily, but she also was so sweet…ahhh, what a woman.” You said, perking up a bit more. “Anyways, at least she’s safe…She’s in space.”   

  “What else have you guys not told me about my life?!” Raph exclaimed.

  “I promise I’ll tell you everything once life has calmed down a bit, but there is some stuff that I genuinely believe is too much for you right now.” You shrugged.

  “Well it’s my memories, so I don’t think that’s for you to decide.” Raph frowned.

  You opened your mouth, glaring at him, before deflating. “...I…you’re right. It is your memories, Raph. You do deserve the truth. But the truth isn’t always easy or fun or any of that so can we make a compromise?”

  He gestured for you to go ahead.

  You squeezed your hands. “I’ll tell you what you need to know, and if you figure stuff out on your own- which is highly likely- I’ll give ya more details. Deal?” You held out your hand.

  Raph sighed. This was probably the best he was gonna get from you.

  …Also…what was with the hand? 

  Raph frowned, staring at your hand, and took it awkwardly. “Deal?”

  You blinked.

  He blinked.

  “Raph why are you still holding my hand?” You coughed.

  “Oh, was I supposed to-”

  “-Let go, yeah, this is a handshake.”

  “-Weird. You guys are weird.”

  “You still haven’t let go?” You said, but you were smiling.

  Would it be weird if he said he kinda didn’t wanna? Holding your hand felt nice…

  “Uh- right.” He grunted, wrenching his hand out of yours.

***

Day 16.

  “Well, I think we’re all set to go upstate.” Donnie said as he finished checking over the items Raph and you had taken.

  “Cool.” You said softly.

  You’d talked about going upstate for the past two weeks, but as Donnie closed the power-cell powered freezer box, it finally hit you that you were leaving. 

  Like leaving leaving. 

  It wasn’t like there was much of a choice. New York was dangerous, more now than before. You and Raph had even wound up in a mild tussle as you made your way back to the Shellraiser last night.

  There were too many scared humans and animals that had gained sentience and horrifying mindless creatures that looked like body-horror inspired abominations to go anywhere without a fight. And frankly, none of you wanted to deal with that.

  And it didn’t help that Donnie’s sensors weren’t picking up on any habitable land in the general radius. You were sure he wasn’t telling you everything, but he had mumbled something about the soil being full of toxic chemicals and unable to maintain life among…other things.

  Essentially, New York City was dying. But maybe if you were all lucky, the farmhouse would be habitable.

  By which you meant…with good soil. It’d be really really nice if you guys could just…plant seeds for food and hang out there for the rest of eternity. Nice, but unlikely, if you were realistic. Still. It was a spot of hope. 

  Raphael stared at you mournfully as you and Donnie finished preparing the Shellraiser. He did that a lot now, and it always stung about the same- he wanted to remember you, but to him, you were a stranger. 

  You hated feeling like a stranger around the person who’d been closer to you than anyone ever back in the Before Times. 

  Not that you’d told him much. You thought there was kinda a power imbalance now, since you knew so much about Raph and he now knew so little about you. He was vulnerable, and you, being one of the ones who had saved him, had a bit more sway over him than you felt comfortable with. 

  He was catching onto you though, you could see that. He’d understandably demanded answers last night, and although you’d agreed to his terms, you were dreading it. Because how could you tell him that he had been your boyfriend if he didn’t even know who you were? Worse, would he feel like he had to immediately go back to that just to make you feel better?

  You’d described your relationship to him as ‘best friend’, which was more accurate, honestly, considering both you and Raph had been a bit odd around romance, but still. It would probably be more to take in than he could handle right now…

  “So. We ready to get this tin can on the road?” You said finally, leaning over Donnie’s shoulder as they stepped away from the newly pumped tires. 

  “...I believe so.” Donnie said proudly, patting the side of the car. 

  And with that, you gave New York City one final good-bye.

  “Seeya, New York…you were one hell of a town to live in. We….had a lotta fun here.” You said, leaning against the Shellraiser to stare at the cityscape.

  “Goodbye pigeons and manholes and starless skies. I-I’ll miss you.” Donnie said fondly, leaning next to you.

  “And I’ll miss pizza gyoza, my fire escape- heck, I’ll even miss Shredder’s lair and TCRI.” You grinned.

  “What a town.” Donnie said, nodding.

  "Hey guys, this is real sweet, but it’s getting dark.” Raph grunted, poking his head out the door. “Let’s get this freakshow on the road.”

  “...Okay.” You said with a rueful smile.

  “...Yeah, we’re coming.” Donnie sighed, and the two of you headed into the Shellraiser.

***

  By the time the sun had set, you had left the city.

  Raph sat in the passenger seat, eating dry pasta like a heathen, and Donnie sat in the roof hatch running his scanners. You weren’t exactly expecting that he’d find anything positive though.

  As you silently drove up the road, you took note of a few things- first off, there were trees out here, at least. Dead trees, but still trees rather than alien shapes that had loomed over you in New York, which was some relief.  

  Secondly…there was no sign of life. The only noise you had heard since leaving New York was the quiet hum of the Shellraiser’s engine, punctuated by Raphael’s crunching on his fucking dry pasta. (Seriously, that stuff could not be good for his digestive system…)

  Thirdly…your hopes of finding an oasis in all of this were running as dry as the land around you. 

  New York was dead, and Earth wasn’t following too far behind it. 

  Donnie clambored back down from the top lookout with a heavy sigh. 

  “So Doc, what’s the diagnosis?” You said dryly, no bothering to turn around. “Lemme guess- we’re doomed?”

  “Well, my sensors have picked up nothing but toxic chemicals and mutagen. There's no living organic plant forms for miles. I’m not picking up on the signatures of Casey, April, Leo, Mikey, Karai, the Mutanimals, or the (L/N)s. I don’t think the Earth will ever heal from this, and our tech has been basically thrown back to the dark ages.” He paused to heave an even more dramatic sigh, before saying “So does that answer your question?” cheerfully.

  You whistled. “Ouch. So we are doomed.”

  Raph crunched on his pasta and glanced up. “Great. That’s….real great.”

  “Raph, are you eating straight up uncooked tortellini?!” Donnie said, gagging.

  Raph smirked and crunched louder, and you cringed at the sound. 

  “Ugh, must you do that?”

  “It tastes good.” He said innocently.

  “Well don’t come to me for help when you get a stomachache.” Donnie said, disgusted.

  You snorted, and refocused on the road as Donnie continued to complain about Raph’s apoca-licious eating habits.

  Because hey. Maybe you were just headed towards certain doom upstate. Maybe Raph would never remember the past. Maybe the fucking planet was mutated beyond recognition…But hey.

  At least you were with your best friends. 

  Heck, if you ignored the metallic tremor in Donnie’s voice and made Raph’s ever so slightly gentler, you could pretend that this was just another peaceful road trip. Just another night of smiling at Dee and Rafa’s antics, of choosing to unsubtly egg them on, of talking till morning with Raph about shit like life and the future and insecurities, comforting each other in that sweet way the two of you always had.

  Yeah, yeah. You’d pretend it was a night like that.

  And for a bit, you’re nearly convinced that when you woke up tomorrow, everything would be alright.

***

Day 17.

  Everything was not entirely alright.

  The farmhouse was devoid of people, and was shrouded in suspiciously pink clouds that hung lower than clouds usually did. Donnie scanned the air though and only got the usual amount of toxic chemicals, so you guys reluctantly decided it was safe.

  “Woah, looks like this place already got picked clean.” You winced, glancing around the main room. It was mostly empty- everything from the furniture to the photos on the wall had been taken.

   The stairs however, had caved in, but with the help of your grappling hook, you made your way to the top without too much effort.

  The top of the house, by comparison, was full of the homey clutter that you had grown to expect from the healing place. Just being there, surrounded by everyone’s old things and the memories around them, made you breathe a sigh of relief. 

  “Anything up there?” Donnie said from the ground level.

  You smiled, breathing in the air of the place you’d briefly called home. “Everything, Don. Case’s spare eyeliner pens, Leo’s matcha powder, Raph’s forgotten sketchbooks and acrylics…everything.”

  With a bit of effort due to Metalhead’s heavy clunky body, Donnie managed to heave themself upstairs too.

  “Woah. Weird being back here.” He said, and you got the impression that he’d be smiling if they could.

  “How’re ya doin’ down there, Raph?” You said, leaning over the stair rail to see him staring into the living room.

  “I…we watched a dumb cartoon there, right? Uh…Chris Bradford the…Barbarian?” He breathed, as if speaking any louder would shatter his ability to remember.

  You and Donnie glanced at each other, swapping a pair of grins. Well, metaphorically, in Dee’s case.

  “Yeah. Crognard the Barbarian…” You smiled. “But we did watch another show about Chris Bradford!”

  “Awesome, Raph!” Donnie said, pumping their fist.

  “...Cool.” He said softly, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “So…this is the safehouse, then?”

  “Well, ‘safe’ is a strong word…there’s a heck of a lot of danger we got into here last time.” You said, sliding down the stair banister. 

  “Out here in the middle of nowhere?” Raph snorted, turning towards you. “How the hell was this dangerous?”

  “You got mutated into a plant once,” Donnie supplied.

  “Ooh, Bigfoot tried to marry Don,” You grinned.

  “Who’s bigfoot?”

  “This forest cryptid who had a crush on Donnie.” You said with a chuckle.

  “(Y/N), please know that I would be rolling my eyes at you right now if I still had them.” Donnie sighed.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You said, giving them a mock-salute.

  Raph entered the dining room. “Did anything terrifying happen here?” He said curiously.

  “Hm…Oh yeah. We fought off mutant frogs.” You said, nodding at the memory. “They were all named after conquerors and they hated humans. …One of them talked like Napoleon Dynamite….not that you’d know that reference…”

  “Ha, what?” Raph chuckled. “Our lives sound weird. What other things did we do?”

  “Oh they very much were.” You nodded. “Let’s see…what other shit did we do? Uhm…there was this one time when you got your brain swapped with a kraang, that one was weird.”

  “What exactly is a kraang? You’ve mentioned them before, but…”

  “Oh, right. A kraang looks like- well, here.” You pulled up a photo of a snarling kraang that you’d taken a selfie with. “Voila.”

  “Eww.” Raph cringed. “Why is it like…all goopy and gross?”

  “Evolution, I guess.” You said, wrinkling your nose. “Gnarly, right?”

  “So you’re tellin’ me I got my brain swapped with that thing?!” Raph said incredulously. 

  “Yup. It was pretty freaky seeing your body completely…not-like-you, but hey, we figured it out.” You chuckled.

  “Hey Raph, you might wanna see this!” Donnie said, yelling over the stair rail.

  “Uh, okay…” Raph frowned, heading towards the rope you’d hung over the caved-in stairwell. You followed after him.

  “See, lookit this-” 

  “Hey, this- this is my room!” Raph exclaimed, shoving past Donnie and into the room. “I- I remember this place! I remember sitting there,” He said, pointing at the bed, “And coming this way-” He spun out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom- “And-....oh.” He frowned, opening the bathroom door. “I…I get the weird feeling that somethin’....happened here, huh?” He said softly.

  You winced, reaching to put a hand on his shoulder, before thinking better of it. “Yeah. This is where Leo…was in his coma.”

  “...You sat with him every day, Raph, ‘till he healed.” Donnie said gently.

  Raph nodded. “Ha. I…ah…don’t remember that.”

  “Well, you did remember your room, and a piece of your old daily routine, so I’d say this is a win! Robo-high-three!” Donnie said cheerfully, holding up their hand.

  Raph wrinkled his snout “Uh…okay…” He held up his own hand, mirroring theirs,  staring at them with an awkward shrug. “Hello, three? Uh…satisfied?”

  Donnie lowered his hand. “...I shoulda seen that one coming.”

  Raph rolled his eyes, shoving his hand back into his pocket. “Whatever, Don. What was it you called me up here for, anyways?”

  “Your old sketchbook! I know you have the one from the lair, but this one  is full of all the stuff you did here!” Donnie said excitedly, handing Raph the book.

  Raph shrugged and accepted it, flipping through the pages. “Woah. These are pretty nice.” He said, starting to smile a bit.

  “Ooh, can I see?” You asked hopefully.

  “Sure.” Raph nodded, angling the book so you could see the art too.

  This page was full of the planning-stage-sketches for what you recognized to be the painting he’d done on the party van.

  “Oh dude, these rock.” You grinned.

  “Yeah…I just hope I’ll be able to…y’know.” He clenched his hand, giving it a sad stare. “Do them again someday.”

***

Day 20.

  “Well ladies and gentlefolk, turtles and others, I have gathered you all here today to present…The Donbot V.1!” Said Donnie, staring into the mirror. 

    It was a pretty nice design, if they did say so themself. It was taller than Metalhead’s model had been, standing at his usual height of 5 '6-to-5' 8-ish, and was made of a dark green steel he had salvaged back in the city. In a burst of inspiration, they had added purple accent lights.

  For the first time in days, they didn’t feel so wrong about looking into the mirror. The face that stared back at him wasn’t his, really, but it was…closer. The blank face felt somehow more comfortable than Metalhead’s imitation-turtle one.

They shook their head, chuckling to themself slightly. If only he were presenting his invention to a crowd of scientifically minded peers instead of to his friend and his brother. Then he might prepare something flashy and exciting, presentation-wise. 

  But alas, it was the end of the world.

  So instead, he simply glanced at themself one more time before leaving the bathroom, revealing his new body without any fanfare.

  You patted his shell and said they looked ‘rad as hell’. Raph shot him a wary look, but it went away fast, and soon enough Raph was congratulating him too- albeit, with a bit of mild confusion.

  Ironically, the brother that would have once understood better than anyone what it feels like to be in a body you don’t want….just happened to be the brother who had recently forgotten that he usually had dysphoria. 

  Donnie supposed that in a post apocalyptic world where gender was so irrelevant that Raph hadn’t even realized he was trans, it wouldn’t even occur to Raph to be dysphoric. (Hm. Maybe the end of the world had its good sides!)

  But secretly, selfishly, a twisted part of Donnie wished that Raph was still in the state of mind to relate to them. It was unfair, and a cruel thing to wish on his brother. Logically, Donnie knew that. But maybe a part of them wanted to just…feel a little bit more understood. Less like an alien. 

  It wasn’t like he didn’t notice the way you and Raph flinched when he entered the room, looking at them like he was some- some thing. Some freak. Maybe a cruel voice in the pits of his now-wire-filled stomach whispered things about how much he wished Raph remembered how it felt, how much a part of him wished you had been mutated in the explosion  so someone, anyone would understand the soul-crushing loneliness of not being in the right body-

  Shit. That was dark. Maybe he was losing more of his humanity than he’d initially theorized-

  Donnie swallowed their thoughts and opened the fridge, only to close it again upon remembering that he was physically incapable of eating,

***

Day 21.

  “AAAAUGHH!” Raph screamed, dropping to his knees on the dead grass. He threw his arms around his stomach- something in his guts felt like something had crawled in there and died and oh shit was this that girl thing?

  “Raph! Are you okay?!” Said Donnie, dropping his bo staff and rushing over.

  “Ow- ow- shit- Donatello, I-I gotta take a -oh- a -ow- a break from practicin’.” Raph grunted, using Donnie’s arm to pull himself up. 

  Time to go fucking deal with this now, he supposed. Just what his stupid life needed right now.

***

Day 24.

  “AAAAIIIEEE!” Raph screeched, chucking the stupid fucking salad prongs across the room.

  “Raph! Dude!” You snapped. “Look, I know you’re frustrated but ya can’t expect to get it right the first time!”

  “Well it’s NOT my first time using sais, is it? Aren’t I supposed to have some kinda muscle memory or whatever?!” He snapped back.

  “Raph, bud, bear with me- you lost your memory, hon’.” You sighed. “You gotta be patient with yourself.”

  “Maybe my self needs to hurry up already.” Raph said, crossing his arms. 

  See, it would be one thing if he’d entirely forgotten how to use his sais. But the thing was- he did remember. He remembered the feeling of their leather, he remembered spinning them and smirking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he remembered holding them in his fists and destroying things and how satisfying it was- but he couldn’t do those things anymore.

  It was just as fucking pointless to try as drawing had been.

  Shit, there were tears in his eyes.

  “You okay, Rafa?” You said gently, doing that annoying thing you did where you reached for him. He always let himself hope that you would actually follow through with it this time…he wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it always felt like a stab to his metaphorical heart everytime you lowered your hand instead of patting him on the shoulder or squeezing his hand or giving him a hug or anything oh good lord he’d take anything- You lowered your hand again, and yet again he felt something shatter in his chest. (Why did he still bother to hope? He’d just thrown his sais in anger. Of course you were nervous around him.)

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, (Y/N). I’m fine.”

  “...Okay…well…I’m here to talk if you need me, y’know?” You said, smiling softly.

  “I don’t wanna talk.” He grumbled. I want a hug, I want warmth, I want someone to say everything is gonna be okay-

  You nodded, staring at him sadly. “...Okay.”

  You left the makeshift dojo, leaving him alone with the blank walls of what had once been a living room.

  Raph wiped his eyes and glared at your retreating figure, half-aware that his anger was misplaced. It wasn’t like you’d done anything other than be understanding and supportive…but still.

***

Day 25.

  “BACK OFF!” Raph yelled, glaring at the robot.

  “Raph, it’s okay, it’s me, your brother! Donatello!”

  Raph had brothers?

  …No, that didn’t sound right- this robot was probably here to hurt him- a vague memory of fighting a similar robot flashed through his mind, reaffirming his certainty that this thing was bad and dangerous and wanted to hurt him-

  He bit back a whimper as the robot got closer, instead snarling as viciously as he could. “Get away from me ya fucking toaster.”

  The robot stepped back.

  Huh. The…robot stepped back…?

  The robot in his memory shifted into a turtle with a worried look on his face and a gap in their teeth and a purple mask.

  Donatello.

  Oh…right. This was Donatello. His brother. He was at the farmhouse with you and Donatello….Donatello who was a robot now.

  “Shit.” Raph mumbled, staring at the robot that was Donatello. “I…I did it again, huh?” 

  “RAPH! DEE! Jeez, are you guys okay?! I heard yellin’ and-'' You said, slamming the door open. The kitchen door. Raph was in the kitchen. The farmhouse kitchen.

  “Just…another incident. Don’t worry about it.” Raph muttered sullenly, wiping the spit off his mouth that he must’ve gotten from all the animalistic hissing.

  “Ah.” You said. “Are you both…okay then?”

  Donnie nodded wordlessly, ducking out of the room with his head down and shoulders slumped.

  Raph scowled, hugging his knees to his chest. “Same as I usually am, I guess.”

  “So…not great?” You frowned.

  “Not great.” He confirmed.

  “Ah.” You leaned forwards hesitantly, hand outstretched. 

  This time Raph didn’t even flinch when you inevitably lowered it and followed Donatello out of the room. He just shoved his face into his kneepads and tried really hard not to cry.

***

  Donnie slipped outside, staring out at the wasteland that used to be a forest.

  Raph had forgotten him again. 

  Honestly, they didn’t know why it hurt so much. It wasn’t the first or even the second or third time Raph had forgotten him…but Raph went into the feral mode around Donnie way more than he did around you. 

  And logically, Donnie knew exactly why that was. You looked the same as you always did, albeit more battered and less smiley, while he, Donnie, looked entirely different. He was entirely different. 

  His sensors picked you up behind him on the porch.

  “Hey.” They said glumly.

  “Hey Dee.” You said, sitting on the porch steps next to him.

  “I don’t think the world will ever heal again, (Y/N).” Donnie said softly. 

  Your eyes grew glossy (although maybe they already had been), and you looked away from them. “...I know.”

  “I miss everyone so much.” He whispered.

  “Me too.” 

  “Casey and I first became friends in that barn…April kissed me by the stump…” He said, trailing off. He put a hand on his face, remembering where Casey had first kissed him. That had also been at the farmhouse…

  God, they missed Casey and April.

  You nodded. “Me and Raph once buried a dead turtle over there…it used to be the prettiest part of the yard.” You said bitterly, pointing towards the spot where the pond had been just a month ago. Now it was reduced to another patch of dry, dying grass.

  “So it was a turtle? I thought you guys killed someone.” Donnie said, only half joking- They remembered vaguely how he’d walked in on Leo lecturing a guilty-looking you and Raph on ‘honorability’ one morning. They’d glanced outside to see a suspicious grave outside that hadn’t been there the night before, and put two and two together…nice to know that it was just an unmutated turtle.

  “Yeah…Raph thought it was like, a blow to his masculinity or something to tell you guys that he cared about animals.” You said with a snort. 

  “Well that’s stupid, we all know he loved animals. He was like a Disney princess around them.” Donnie said, shaking their head. 

  “Yeah…very true.” You smiled. 

  “What do you plan on doing about your whole….thing with Raph, anyways?” They said, changing the subject in hopes of distracting their thoughts from existential dread.

  You sighed, running a hand down your face. “Fuck, man. I don’t know. Like…I love him so much, but it’s not fair for me to right now. He’s vulnerable and scared and doesn’t even know who we are half the time…how can I put the pressure of a relationship, or even the implications of a past relationship, on him right now? That’s just…so unfair. Plus, we’re the only people he has right now. What if he thinks not liking me will mean us…like, kicking him out or something fucked up like that? What if he tries to force himself to feel the same just out of guilt? What if-”

  “Well first off, overthinking things? That’s my job, stay outta my turf.” Donnie teased. You smiled slightly. “Secondly- who says you have to tell him? Because you really don’t.”

  “Well, he’s not dumb, Don- he’s figured out that I’m hiding something.” You said dryly.

 “Are you though? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve been fairly honest about things- he’s your best friend. He always was. Just say ‘yeah we were like close or something’, you know? It’s not like you guys ever kissed or anything, at least not much, so it’s not much of a stretch.” Donnie suggested.

  You nodded. “Yeah…I guess you’re right…who knew you were so good with relationship advice?”

  “Nah, I just know you and Raph pretty well.” He chuckled.

  You smiled, putting an arm around his shoulders in a side hug. “Thanks Don.”

  “Hey, thanks for distracting me from my existential dread.” They snorted, hugging you back.

***

  Day 35.

  “What if I can’t feel feelings?” Said Donnie, lying awake next to you.

  “Hnnghh…Go to sleep Donnie.” You grunted, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders.  It may have been more secure and safe to have all three of you stationed in the Shellraiser rather than the house, but man, between Raph’s snoring and Donnie’s shitty sleep schedule that you knew full well he had programmed himself to have, it certainly made sleeping hard.

  “But what if this is all a dream! What if I died and this is a severely messed up dream I’m having in my last few minutes of life?”

  “Shut up Donatello.” Raph groaned, trying to muffle Don’s voice with a blanket.

  “What if I'm in a coma and I’m dreaming this and the Earth is actually fine?”

  “Go to sleep, broooo…” You moaned, covering your ears with a pillow.

  “I don’t usually go into sleep mode for another…mmm…two hours.” Donnie said. “Damn…sleep mode! (Y/N), I’m not a person anymore, am I?!”

  “Donatello. Buddy. Pal. I love you dearly. You are a beautiful,  fantastic, brilliant person. Let me fucking sleep.” You hissed.

  “...Mmm…Okay. G’night.” There was a click, and Don-bot powered down.

  “Oh thank god.” Raph grunted, shoving his face into his pillow.

  He proceeded to snore incredibly loudly.

  You groaned. 

***

  You blinked your eye open at the sudden silence.

Raph had somehow wound up with his arms tightly wrapped around your arm in his sleep. He was shivering, which made sense considering the cold.

  You were tempted to pry him off so that he wouldn’t be awkward or uncomfortable when he woke up. But he looked so peaceful, and you missed this…

  Plus you were too tired to do anything. So maybe you’d let him stay…

  You’d pry him off before morning though.

***

Day 37.

  Raph was pretty sure that Past Raph had had the hots for you. He’d finished reading through his old sketchbook, and it was full of little paragraphs in the margins and crossed out text where he could just barely make out the word ‘(Y/N)’. 

  He supposed it made sense. He may not have remembered too much of his life, but he had a decent recollection of what pretty people looked like- and you definitely fit that category. Plus, you were funny and cool and sweet….not that it mattered much nowadays. 

  After all, Past Raph and Current Raph’s circumstances were vastly different. So maybe a part of him was tempted to bug you for more info…but he knew enough to just let it be. 

  That was the Old World. 

  In the New World, trivial things like relationship status mattered very little. 

  (Still, was it really asking so much to have someone who’d hug him? Was he so wrong to wish for a hand on the shoulder once or twice, the way you always were in those goddamned photos?)

  (Meh, probably.)

  He hugged himself, staring up at the ceiling. 

  “Oh hey, you’re awake!” You grinned, poking your head into the Shellraiser. “Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty! Breakfast is inside if you want it.”

  Raph sat up slowly. “Okay…”

  “How’re you doing?” You said as you led him across the yard. It was still cold and dark out, and Raph shivered.

  “...Tired.” He grunted.

  “Understandable.” You nodded. “I’ve been pretty tired too, but it’s so hard to sleep when it’s so freakin’ cold at night and like, a million degrees the instant the sun rises.” You complained, passing him a plate of eggs from the remaining unmutated chickens. 

  “Says you, the one who's warm-blooded.” Raph teased.

  “Oh shit, you must be so cold at night!” You said, seeming to have just remembered that Raph was a reptile. 

  “Freezing.” Raph nodded. 

  “Maybe Don can build a heat lamp!” You suggested. “They’re still in sleep mode right now, but we can ask when he wakes up.”

  Raph perked up. “Wait, that exists?”

  “Yeah, shit- I can’t believe I didn’t think of that like…forever ago. I guess I forgot that you’re cold-blooded…and now that Donnie is…non-blooded, it must’ve slipped their mind too…I’m so sorry Rafa!” You exclaimed.

  “Wait. So this WHOLE TIME I could’ve NOT frozen my tail off every night?!” Raph groaned.

  You shrugged weakly. “...Yup.

  “This is so stupid.” He sighed, stabbing his eggs with one of his sais.

  “Dude…you're using that as a fork?” You cringed.

  Raph scowled. “Well it’s not like I know how to use it as a weapon anymore.”

  “But…but…Raph you have stabbed through people with those! There is no way that that’s even slightly sanitary!” You squeaked.

  He shrugged and ate his breakfast off the end of the sai. 

  You looked ill. “You are… such a teenage boy. Please stop.”

  He sighed but swapped the sai for a fork. “Okay, okay. Jeez.”

  “Thank you.” You groaned, patting his shoulder unconsciously.

  And suddenly it felt like his brain had short circuited.

  Oh god, he remembered you. 

  How could he have ever forgotten you?! All the memories shot into his brain at record speed- sitting on a fire escape with your arm around his shoulders, spray painting the side of TCRI, making fun of Casey and Donnie’s crushes on April, beating up bad guys, the look on your face- that toothy grin that you never ever wore theses days, a familiar hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder- and oh god, he remembered you!

  “I- I…(F/C)!” He gasped. You jerked your hand away guiltily, but he caught it before you could. “(Y/N). Your favorite color is (F/C)!”

  “W-what?” You said, eyes wide.

  “(Y/N) I remember! I-I remember you! Not everything probably, but- but I remember you!” He exclaimed, gripping your hands in his.

  Your eyes widened even further. “Raph, you- what?!”

  He grinned and hugged you to his chest as tightly as he could. Tentatively, you relaxed into it, rubbing his shell gently.

  “I remember you!” He exclaimed. 

  You nodded, still looking baffled. “Like…what?”

  “I remember how we met- I fell onto your fire escape! A-and I remember eating breakfast here with you and talking about…well, something, probably, but it was definitely here at this table! And I remember…I had this pet turtle, right? I think his name was…Slash? No! Spike! Slash was the mutant…? Whatever! I remember you sitting….uh…there, by that broken window, and I drew this picture!” He grinned, holding up a page in his sketchbook. It was a portrait of you, with soft shading and a bold outline. 

  “Woah, Raph?! You just- remember all this?!” You said, still staring in disbelief.

  “Bits and pieces, yeah- I think it was ‘cause you…you know, touched me. It’s like…muscle memory? I dunno. Might hafta ask Donnie…”

  “Raph!” You grinned, hugging him tightly. “I just- wow! This is so cool, I-”

  “Woah, are we interrupting somethin’?” Said a familiar voice.

  You and Raph jolted into defensive positions, hopping up to face the person-

  And then your brain seemed to short-circuit.

  “Casey?” You squeaked. “CASEY!”

  “(Y/N)! RAPH! Dude I can’t believe we finally found you!” Casey shrieked just as loud, diving in to grab you and Raph in a messy group hug.

  You grinned, hugging your friends close. “Casey Jones, I’m so glad you’re okay- fuck man, I thought you must’ve gotten kraang-ifed…”

  Raph pulled away, staring at Casey. “You’re…the skeleton dude- Casey Jones?”

  “Uh, no duh- who else would I be?! Casey Jones is in the flesh babeeyy!” He grinned, pumping his fist.

  “Raph…uh…hit his head in the mutagen bomb, Case’.” You mumbled, and Casey’s grinning facade shattered.

  “Oh. Shit.” He said, staring at Raph. “Do you remember…like…anything?”

  Raph shrugged dejectedly. “...Some of it. I remember…you and I would spray paint, I think? I remember a lotta (Y/N) apparently…I’ve got some vague recollections of Donatello, mostly their nerd-stuff…”

  “Jeez man. That’s…depressing as fuck.” Casey said, blunt as he’d always been.

  “Yeah.” Raph grunted.

  “So…is it just you?” You asked, fearing the worst.

  “Naw, I just found you guys first.” Casey  smiled. “Red n’ Angel are searching upstairs…but I hear them coming down right….now.” He said, nodding right as the sound of two people tripping and falling off the treacherous stair-rope Donnie had installed.

  “Oooh.” You and Casey winced.

  “How ‘bout you? Any sign of the others? …Where’s Donnie?” Casey’s voice lowered for the latter, in an anxious tremor.

  “Dee’s….fine. They just…look different than they did last time…you saw them. And…they’re pretty insecure about it.” You mumbled.

  “Casey! Casey, we found evidence of someone upstairs- (Y/N)?! Raph!” April said, running into the kitchen as she noticed you. “You guys are here!”

  “C’mon O’Neil, rule one of bein’ a ninja is ‘Don’t ever question the vague instructions you get from graffiti’. Didja ever doubt it?” You teased, grinning.

  “I-I was so worried, guys! I thought that since my psychic powers stopped working-”

  “Woah, how’d that happen?”

  “Too many big auras now. They’re impossible to tell apart…trying just gives me a headache.” April explained. “But I thought it meant that you might’ve been dead…” She whispered, and Casey put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Woah. So this is your turtle, Case’?” Said a new voice, and a teenage cat mutant leaned into the kitchen. “Hi.”

  Raph only grunted in response, and the cat mutant that must’ve been Angel nodded. “Fair.”

  “So where is Dee then?” Casey said.

  “Shellraiser. In…uh…sleep mode.” You said. “I’ll go get him…but would you guys mind…shit this sounds wimpy. But could you guys…come with me?” You muttered. A part of you was 100% convinced that the instant you left them they would all fade away.

  But Casey, who would usually make fun of you for such a childish request, slung his other arm around your shoulders- and you realized he probably felt exactly the same. 

  “Sure thing.” He said, smiling softly.

  “Thanks guys.” You beamed.

  You were finally smiling the way you did in the photographs.

  Raph couldn’t help but smile too. 

***

  When Donnie woke up from sleep mode on Day 37 of the Mutant Apocalypse, he was greeted by four familiar faces- two of which were the only faces he’d seen at all in the past month, and two of whom were what convinced him that they were probably somehow dreaming. 

  But they were a robot, and dreaming wasn’t physically possible anymore.

  So that meant this must, somehow, be real.

  “Hey Donnie.” Said April, smiling at him, and he wanted to cry even though he didn’t have eyes.

  “‘Sup Don.” Said Casey, grinning his gap-toothed grin that looked so much like Donnie’s old one.

  “You’re here.” Donnie whispered, feeling his new antennae shoot up. “Holy chalupa you’re HERE?!” 

  You smiled, helping him up. “Hey Dee, I forgot to tell ya- we’ve got company.”

  Donnie stared at the humans. They were here. He had so many questions, but most importantly-

  “D’you guys like the new look?” He chuckled, only half joking.

  Casey shrugged. “It’s different, but it looks metal as fuck.”

  “Yeah that’s ‘cause it is metal, ya meathead.” Said Raph, smiling.

  “It looks so cool Dee.” April said, smiling warmly. 

  Donnie really really wished they could still emote right about now, because the dopey grin that they would have grinned for that was unreal.

***

Day 40.

  You and Raph lay on the roof of the farmhouse, watching the red sun set, leaving the sky that weird glowing purple color that it had begun to adopt.

  (It really did remind you of some of those old Space Heroes episodes.) 

  “I really miss the stars.” You said lightly. “But I guess this is sorta pretty too, huh? In like…a weird way.”

  “Hey, isn’t that true for all of this shit?” Raph said. “I really miss the stuff in those photos, those glimpses I get of the life we had before…but hey. In a weird…sort of fucked up way…this life is kinda nice too. Don’t get me wrong. It’s really frustrating, I hate my brain most of the time, and I’m like 90% convinced that I’ll never really be the same person…but at least I’m not alone in it, y’know?” He sighed.

  You took his hand, squeezing it gently, and he squeezed back, and continued. “I’ve got you and Donnie. I guess now I’ve got Casey, Angel, and April too, and if they survived, who's to say my brothers didn’t?”

  You nodded. “Yeah…I guess if we’re out here on this road to nowhere, there’s no one who I’d rather have on my side.” You chuckled half-heartedly. “Still sucks though.”

  “Yeah, it really does.” Raph agreed.

  You smiled and pulled him into a side hug, suddenly swallowed by bittersweet nostalgia for those days when the biggest threat was Shredder.

  But hey, Raph had a point. 

  At least the outcome, well perhaps a huge downgrade from the breathtaking beauty of the stars, was still sorta pretty.

  At least you were on the road to nowhere together.

***

Author's note: I am so glad that Mutant Apocalypse was made into an AU. If it had wound up as the canon ending, that would be...messed up, man. But I like it as an AU, and I hope you've enjoyed journeying through it with me- it's a sad sad ride, but boy did I have fun writing it.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph x reader #raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph #2k12 raph x reader #2k12 raph #mutant apocalypse #tmnt apocalypse au #trans raph

[sillyfluffs]

Here’s my crack at an amazing digital circus tickle fic! Don’t like tickles then don’t read!

Lee!Pomni Ler!Ragatha

Title: Relax!

Pomni was wandering the digital circus, still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was stuck in this digital hellscape. The small jester really was having a horrible time so far. She really didn’t know what to expect, and the colors were driving her mad. She missed her home, even though she doesn’t even remember it at this point. All she can really remember is putting on that stupid headset. Worst decision ever…

She dissociated, in a constant state of existential dread, and didn’t even realize that Ragatha was standing beside her.

The doll was really worried about her newfound friend. She wondered if there was any way she could calm Pomni down, or maybe cheer her up a little.

The doll lightly tapped the jester’s shoulder, causing her to jump out of her trance.

“Hey, Pomni…? Would you like to come sit in my room with me for a bit? It’s ok if you don’t want to, but I figured you could use some company, and maybe some down time to get away from all the craziness y’know?”

Pomni thought for a moment before nodding. Ragatha had been nice to her all this time, and she really didn’t have any issues with her. If she trusted anyone here at all, it was her. So maybe she could try to relax a little…

Ragatha smiled and calmly lead the small jester girl to her room, opening the door and letting her in. The jester looked around the room, amazed at how soft everything was. Ragatha’s bed was a plaid blue color and pattern, and very plush.

Ragatha sat on the bed, patting beside her to coax Pomni to sit. She obliged.

Pomni sat and nervously twiddles her thumbs.

“N-Nice room…”

Ragatha smiled “thanks! I try to keep it as comfy and tidy as possible. I like my things neat and organized since it’s the only place I can really control ya know… and having a comfortable environment can help ease the mind.”

Pomni nodded.

Ragatha was still a bit worried for Pomni.

“Y’know, Pomni, you’re always welcome to come sit in here with me if you need company. I know it’s scary being stuck here, but I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.” She reassured the smaller girl.

Pomni simply nods.

“I-I appreciate it really… I’m just… still really scared… I-I… wish there was a way out…”

Pomni looks down, Ragatha frowning in response. She lightly rubs Pomni’s back, which startles her at first, but since Ragatha was so gentle, she eases into it rather than staying tense.

“I understand… we all do. I know it’s hard but please try not to stress so much about it… we’re all in this together after all, and the best we can do is try to make light of this situation the best we can…”

Pomni looked so depressed.

It made Ragatha’s digital heart sink.

She continued rubbing her back, and offered her arms outwards.

“Would you like a hug maybe…?”

Pomni slowly slunked her small body towards Ragatha, normally against physical touch from anyone, something just seemed so calming and gentle about Ragatha’s presence… perhaps she could be an exception.

Ragatha couldn’t help but chuckle at Pomni. She was really cute when she let her guard down. She gently hugged the smaller girl and sorta held her in her lap, causing the jester to blush. She lightly patted her head.

“You’re gonna be ok, new stuff. I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, or to just be there.”

Pomni couldn’t help but get a little emotional, wiping a few tears away.

“T-Thanks Ragatha…”

Ragatha frowned a little again.

“Oh no no! It’s ok! No need for tears ok? Everything’s gonna be fine…” she kind of rocked the smaller girl as if someone would rock an infant. She was already feeling very protective over the newest member of the circus. I guess it was somewhat in her nature.

Pomni actually calmed down rather quickly. Something about Ragatha’s nurturing presence, her softness, and the atmosphere finally being somewhat safe. She leaned into her touch.

Ragatha smiled fondly at Pomni once she calmed down.

“That’s more like it… y’know you’re really cute.”

Pomni turned bright red and hid her face as Ragatha chuckled.

“Cmon now, don’t hide silly.”

She playfully poked Pomni’s stomach, having being towards her due to how she was holding her in her lap. This caused Pomni to squeal in surprise.

Ragatha got a spark of mischief in her eyes. Oh this could possibly be a good way to cheer her up!

“Ooo what was that? Are you ticklish, Pomni~?”

Pomni was bright red and already panicky.

“N-N-Nope!” She tried to protest, but her jumpy and nervous nature was already giving her away. She actually couldn’t help her lips from slightly curling upwards as her hands stayed in a defensive position in front of her.

Ragatha simply smirked and wiggled her fingers above Pomni’s tummy.

“Are you suuure about that?”

Pomni was nervously begging just watching her fingers.

“P-Please Ragatha n-nomfff!!!”

Midway through pleas, Ragatha lightly scribbles on Pomni’s stomach, with Pomni reflexively covering her mouth to muffle her giggles.

Ragatha smirked and kept up her attack, scribbling a little harder now exploring every inch of her tummy.

“So Pomni, if you’re not ticklish I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I kept this up then…”

Pomni squealed and immediately dissolved into squeaky giggles. She still kept her hands over her mouth, but she was now being so loud that it wasn’t doing her any good.

“Mfmfmfmmfmfmmm~!!”

Pomni started to wiggle around in Ragatha’s grasp and kick her feet a little.

“Hmm~? Someone’s awfully giggly for not being ticklish~ don’t think I can’t hear it~ and please don’t hide that adorable laugh, I wanna hear more!”

Ragatha kept at it, going at her sides and ribs now with both hands, going in for the kill.

Pomni shrieked pretty loudly much to her embarrassment, trying to grab Ragatha’s hands by reflex, which caused her to release some adorable shrieky laughter while throwing back her head.

“NOHOHOHORAGAHAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAA~!!”

Ragatha couldn’t help but laugh right along with her. She was being way too adorable for her own good. She couldn’t just stop now.

“That’s more like it~! You’re so cute like this Pomni~ Tickle tickle~”

Pomni kept letting out giddy, childish giggles and full on belly laughter, depending on where Ragatha went, she kept at it going all over her tummy, ribs and sides. Pomni was an absolute wiggle worm beneath her, squealing and kicking about with the reddest face Ragatha had ever seen.

“PLEHEHEASE NAHAHAHHAA~!! EHEHEEI CAHAHANANT-!!”

Ragatha couldn’t believe it. She’d never seen Pomni so happy before, and if she was reading her right, she seemed to be enjoying this. Maybe this could be a good future tactic to cheer up the jester. She didn’t want to overwhelm Pomni, but she couldn’t help but continue.

“I think since you lied to me, it’s only fair I get to explore this a bit further~”

Pomni shrieked when Ragatha grabbed her hips.

“EEEEEHEEEEK!!NAHAHAHANOHOPLEHEHEASE!”

Pomni was visibly tearing up and practically bouncing, the poor jester girl was so sensitive there.

The doll practically had hearts for pupils at her reaction, god why was she so cute??

Ragatha didn’t want to kill the poor girl, so she slowly slowed down her tickles, watching the giggly jester beneath her slowly calm down and catch her breath. God she was adorable.

The doll felt a little bit of guilt rush over her when she saw how flushed and worn out Pomni had been after the playful assault ceased.

“Heh, sorry about that… I-I hope I didn’t go too far… I just couldn’t help myself, you were so cute and I had never seen you so happy before”

Pomni couldn’t help but keep a wobbly grin, still giggly and flushed.

“I…ihits ohokay…”

Ragatha sighed in relief. Reflecting back on it, Pomni never asked her to stop…

“Heh… good. Hey, y’know if this helps you feel better, I wouldn’t mind doing it again for you any time you want. If my judgments correct, you seemed to be enjoying yourself…”

Pomni was flustered. Yeah, she hadn’t been that happy here before this happened. She usually wasn’t one for physical touch at all, but Ragatha’s touch was so gentle and fun, she made her feel safe enough to let her guard down. The tickling was a nice stress reliever from the anxiety the jester was experiencing.

Shyly, Pomni nodded.

“Y-Yeah… sure…”

Ragatha smiled.

“Great! And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone ok? This can be our little secret! Besides, Im sure the others wouldn’t be nearly as merciful as me…”

Pomni let out an awkward chuckle.

“Y-Yeah… thanks… and yeah… I really wouldn’t want them to find out…”

She seemed a bit tense thinking about the possibility of Jax finding out.

#tadc tickles #lee!pomni #ler!ragatha #I hope I wrote this well!

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

So I’m in a silly goofy wholesome mood, so take some hc’s of the states essentially being adult children :]

*gives you a cookie and some hot cocoa*

-a while ago, the regions all had a treehouse making contest (since they have the woods as a backyard) and it’s safe to say that they all won :3

-during the fall, some of the states will rake up the leaves into piles to jump in them cuz it’s fun and silly

-^*cue Alaska picking up Texas and throwing him into a pile of leaves, and Florida doing the same to Louisiana. Meanwhile Washington’s dying in the background cuz allergies are a b!tch :( *

-they will all have full on games of tag, like one state will tag another and say “Tag! You’re it!” and then literally everyone present will drop whatever they’re doing and run like their lives depended on it.

-^this usually ends with a bunch of tired out states, and that means…. MOVIE NIIIIIGHT!!

-Movie Nights are a thing and they 100% happen a couple times a week.

-every single state has a stuffed animal that is one of their favorite things ever (Even Gov. His is an eagle 🥹)

-Nerf battles. There are nerf guns LITERALLY everywhere. The statehouse has turned into a round of Call of Duty multiple times and it will happen several times more. (Poor Gov has gotten himself caught in so many nerf battles 😭 Mans just wanted his damn coffee 😭)

-Half of the fighting that happens amongst the states is actually play fighting.

-Household Hide’n’Seek is a thing and NY, RI, LA, and TX (he’s a bendy straw and has no joints okay-) are the champions.

-PILLOW FORTS AND PILLOW FIGHTS PILLOW FORTS AND PILLOW FIGHTS PIL-

-full on snowball battles whenever it snows a lot, and those usually end in movie nights and hot cocoa :)

Now individual (sorta) hc’s:

-Alaska and Texas play fight/wrestle on the daily, and they can be rougher with each other since they are bigger states. Though they know to stop if one actually hurts the other (Alaska is extra careful sometimes though cuz Texas bruises really easily and he’d rather not be murdered by the south in various gruesome ways-)

-New York LOVES play fighting. He will legit just come up behind someone and playfully punch, shove, or headbutt them and those that are close to him know that he wants to play 🥺 Tho sometimes it’s taken the wrong way and someone actually gets hurt- surprisingly it’s usually NY that gets hurt cuz he wasn’t expecting his opponent to ACTUALLY try to genuinely fight him 😭 And then he’s just left there to be like-"What’d I do 🥲”

-sometimes Texas will jokingly use Louisiana as an armrest when talking to somebody, which sometimes makes Loui bite him, but Loui sometimes also just deals with it or just clings to or cuddles Texas’s arm.

-Texas 100% squeals like a little girl whenever he sees a cute animal, and I DEFY you to tell me otherwise. Like- I can see him walking into the statehouse and someone will say hello and he’ll just say "Hi". Y’know, like a fvcking robot. But the moment an animal walks into the room, he’ll be like-"*le gasp* Awwwww!! Hi Mar!!! Who’s a good boy?? You are!!~” (Mar is one of NJ’s dogs btw).

-CT, MA, and NJ will all gang-cuddle their little brother, and will 100% laugh as NY tires to squirm his scrawny ass outta there

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THESE <3333

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #wttt #wttsh #ben brainard #EEEEEEKKKK #kota's rambles

[esprei]

i want to take a short moment here to speculate about some things i just found in pokemon violet and what that might mean for the next pokemon games coming up (as well as maybe some volo reference?) putting this under a cut since there are sorta mild spoilers here? maybe? like probably not really considered spoliers but just to be safe ;w; for context this involves something mentioned in one of the later history lectures at the academy and some information in the Scarlet/Violet Book (also found at the academy on the ground floor in the entrance hall):

ok the first thing i want to mention that piqued my interest is what Ms. Raifort talks about during the History (4) lecture:

now of course this merchant could be anyone, but my heart really wants to believe that this was volo and not just because i’m such a huge volo fan and want to see him again (hhhh volo please come back... 😭) - but also because of what’s mentioned in a curious little book called the Violet Book (or the Scarlet Book I would assume if you’re playing Scarlet version) this is the page I’m referring to:

Heath talks here about wandering off from the exploration team, only to wake up when found unconscious by the team later on to remembering nothing but talking with someone in an unfamiliar place, like he was in a dream... obviously there’s some interesting stuff going on in the drawing/writing he references on the left that he has no memory of doing but... I have to wonder. who is this person he spoke with? and where? again, would looooove to speculate that this is volo, that he maybe is a time traveler, something like that, and in addition to him being the merchant that brought the king the treasures. again, big speculation here buuuut i’d love to believe it 😭 another thing that REALLY got my interest was this (in the same book, the Violet Book):

this imagined pokemon... verrrrry much looks like an amalgamation of the swords of justice from unova (with maybe a dialga butt? lol) now, we of course know we’re most likely going to at least get remakes of gen 5 in the near(er) future. but what’s way more curious about this all is what Scarlet’s version of the imagined pokemon looks like in their book:

Raikou, Entei and Suicune. the Johto trio. are we maybe getting a legends game based in johto? in addition to the gen 5 remakes for unova? or maybe we also get a legends game for unova? like why these three, y’know? JUST... HHHH... like this is made even MORE curious for me because, tying back into Volo, I’ve seen a lot of people mention that he would definitely be interested in the Sinjoh Ruins since it has ties to Arceus and the Ruins of Alph (IN JOHTO) and just- I dunno... it’s just so interesting to me again, wild speculation on my part but this stuff definitely caught my attention and i had to talk about it a little bit ;w;

#pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon volo #ginkgo guild volo #pokemon scarlet spoilers #pokemon violet spoilers

[oddballwriter]

MH & EMH Guys and love languages

Summary: The slenderverse guys (at least MH and EMH) and their various love languages that I think they would have and enjoy in return

Warnings: implied abandonment issues and mentions death in Tim’s part 

Relationship: romantic 💕

Author’s Snips: I put the two together so that I won’t have to basically write two of the same post. Also, it’s only Marble Hornets and EveryManHYBRID because I’ve actually only seen those two. Maybe in the future I’ll see the others but as of right now that’s not on the agenda. 

Notes: this took way longer than I thought it would omfg. Also I didn’t proof read this lol

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Marble Hornets

Tim

Giving: Quality time and a little bit of physical affection/touch

Tim has a tough time saying his feelings and being open about them since whenever he does, things tend to happen

So he’s a little bit worried and scared that he might say “I love you” too soon or something

You’re probably his first serious relationship if not his first relationship at all so he doesn’t know what to do so he can come off a bit awkward 

However, he has come to a midway point where he feels more comfortable and that’s by hanging around you and generally being near you

He likes the peaceful and safe feeling that he gets when he’s in your presence and it makes him happy knowing that you enjoy it too

The physical affection and touch part sort of goes with that struggle to speak his feelings

So he uses holding and the occasional little smooch as ways to display his affection to you without having to say it

He’s not big on pda, makes him nervous but when you two are alone together then he’s good to go

He’ll still hold your hand and have you close while in public but just not all over you, y’know?

Receiving: Quality time and words of affirmation

He likes quality time because it lets him have that reassurance that you genuinely wanna be near him 

It might sound sad but when all your friends die and you technically are the beacon that caused it, you tend to believe that people shouldn’t be around you so you’ll hermit yourself

So you choosing to be with him all the time lets him know that it’s okay and you’re not gonna go anywhere

Tim also thinks that at times he can be a bit boring so you spending time with him lets him know that he’s not and you find him fun to be around

Words of affirmation comes from both the fact that he sorta lacks the guts to say it first and also because he just likes to hear it since he’s not really used to it

When I said that he has trouble saying “I love you” I meant as in he has trouble saying it first. But when you say it first then that trouble goes away and he’ll say it back

Also, he spent a good half of his life in a psychiatric hospital, you don’t exactly hear “I love you” too much in there. So when you say that to him it catches him off guard sometimes, but in a good way

He’ll get used to it but I think he’d still be a dork about it

Brian

Giving: Physical affection and words of affirmation

There’s just something about holding you close and telling you he loves you that he likes

I would actually say that he gives all of the types of ways of affection but he comes across as a guy who’s main ones are physical affection and words of affirmation 

He’s not that shy about pda, if he wants to give you a smooch then he’s gonna give you a smooch 

And if you guys are sat down anywhere then he’s gonna have his arm around you or your shoulder

It lets people know that you guys are a thing and he likes that

 And when you guys are alone then he’s all over you

That man is gonna cuddle your face off and follows you everywhere you go

Obviously he’ll give you your privacy but you get it

Receiving: Physical affection and quality time

He’s a cuddly guy and would like to receive it back 

Pretty simple. He holds you. You hold him and all that

Similar to Tim, he likes the feeling of being in your presence and plus you inherently need to be near each other in order to give the physical affection so those two honestly go hand in hand

He does enjoy word of affirmation on the receiving end but he feels like physical affection is better

Jay

Giving and Receiving: Quality Time

In all honesty Jay seems very simple

Idk what to say he just seems like he just likes being around you and vibing with you 

He’ll do some of the other things like say he loves you and cuddle from time to time but I feel like he’s just one of those people that being in a relationship with them is very low maintenance and you guys could just be content with that

He just has that vibe

Y’all just watch movies and talk and maybe kiss idk

Alex

Giving: Quality time

He likes having you around him but it’s not like how Jay is with just being in the same room

His version is that he likes spending time with you because he likes talking to you and being around you

I feel like at heart Alex is a social person even if he can be a little bit to himself at times and too nervous to talk to people 

Being with you lets him express that with someone he knows he can do that with without the worry of being judged because you’re his partner

He might become distant and reclusive if you wanna go with the events of Marble Hornets but he still deep down wants to be around you because you being there gives him that feeling still

Receiving: Quality time, Listening, and Acts of service

Quality time is self explanatory but listening comes from the fact that Alex can be very chatty 

He’s very passionate about all the things he does and he will get the urge to talk all about it

You listening to him as he rambles lets him know that you care for him and his passions, even if they’re just a passing fixation

With making films and all that, he can get very busy and lose track or not be able to take care of some stuff 

So he finds it really sweet if you take it upon yourself to help a little and take care of some stuff for him

He doesn’t want you to act as an assistant, your his partner for god’s sake!

But he really appreciates it if you say that you’ll handle something for him so that he’ll have less to worry about

EveryManHYBRID

Vinny

Giving: Quality time

In all honesty I can’t pin point him as having any of the love languages so I’m just gonna go with the more simple one

I think he does and enjoys quality time because he gets lonely really fast so he likes having you around so that doesn’t happen

He likes to have company y’know?

I guess he’d enjoy cuddling too so maybe a bit of physical affection too but it’s more so quality time that he leans for

Receiving: Quality time

I think i explained it pretty well in the giving half

Idk he seems like a lonely guy to me and he just wants company

Evan

Giving: Physical Affection and Gift Giving

I think we actually see some stuff that implies that Evan is a very cuddly guy and will cuddle and give anyone physical affection but yeah

This man is an absolute deviant for some physical affection 

He’s not afraid of pda very much either so he’ll smooch you, hold your hand, hold you, all that out in the open

Remaining appropriate of course but still he’s like a like a moth to a lamp, he can’t stay away from you at all

If someone’s got a problem then they can stay mad cause he wants to be cute and give you some kisses

I adore the idea that Evan will find things on his walks and jogs that will remind him of you or that he thinks you’ll like and so he’ll pocket them and give them to you as a gift

He’ll go nuts of you do the same

Giving each other nicknacks > literally anything

I’ve seen people call Evan a lap dog boyfriend and honestly... yeah

Dog boyfriend energy

He treats you right

Receiving: Literally anything 

It’s not that he has low standards

It’s actually that he likes you for you and if he knows that doing a specific thing is how you show affection and is your love lango then he will except it

Physical affection? Absolutely! Go right ahead and tackle him onto somewhere to cuddle or give him kisses

 (If you’re giving kisses, kiss his entire face, he likes it)

Words of affirmation. Yes please

Quality time? He doesn’t know what y’all are going to do but you’ll figure it out. Just watching some movies is fine in his eyes

Acts of service? You don’t have to do anything for him but if you want to then he won’t stop you

You can literally have anything as your love language and he will accept it so long as he knows that that’s what it is

Jeff

Giving: Physical Affection, Gift giving, and Acts of Service

Jeff likes physical affection, preferred method being cuddling, because he finds something nice and calming about being so physically close to someone like that

He could honestly spend hours cuddled up with you if he was able to

Honestly would fall asleep cuddling with you because it makes him so calm and at ease with everything

Fuck a weighted blanket! He has you!

The gift giving just because he thinks you’re so great and should have all the stuff that you want

It’s also a silent way of letting you know that he both loves you and listens to you when you talk about things that you like

You like drawing? Here! He got you some art pencils and pens!

Do you have a favorite animal? He got you a little plushie of it that he found and thought you’d like

He might not have all the money in the world but if he did then he’d get you anything you wanted so long as he thinks you’ll like it

He doesn’t do acts of service too much unless he notices that you have a lot on your plate, to which he’ll take a few things off it to make it easier on you 

Receiving: Physical affection and Listening

We already know he likes being as close to you as he physically can so I won’t bother repeating that

The listening part comes in because sometimes Jeff has thoughts and things that he thinks about and talks about them

You lending an ear lets him know that you care about his thoughts and feelings 

He listens to you too but he really does take it to heart when you are the one listening

Let him lay his head on you lap and ramble about what’s on his mind

#slenderverse #marble hornets #everymanhybrid #tim wright #brian thomas #jay merrick #alex kralie #vinny everyman #evan myers #jeff koval #emh evan #emh jeff #emh vinny #slenderverse x reader #marble hornets x reader #everymanhybrid x reader #emh x reader #x reader scenario #x reader

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

we can be more | dean winchester | 9

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CROSSROAD BLUES

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :  CROSSROAD BLUES - ROBERT JOHNSON

“Hey, jellybean.” Dad smiled into the camera, sharpening his knife. “This hunt is pretty dangerous, I’ll have to admit. These vamps are beating the hell out of me.” 

“Hey, Mick!” A hunter yelled. “Are you talkin’ to your daughter again?” 

“Oh, come on, Ed, you’d do the same if you had one.” Dad retorted. “It’s a shame that no girl’s ever looked your way, huh?” He turned back toward the camera. “Y’know, I’d give anything to be home with you. I’ve been such a bad father these past few years. I missed your graduation. Your orientation day in Princeton too. You didn’t even go to prom because you wanted to see me come back from a hunt but I didn’t until a few weeks later. I think…” His voice broke off. 

There were happy shouts in the background, but Dad didn’t seem so happy. 

“I think that the last time I’ll ever see you is this picture I keep in my pocket.” He pulled it out, taking a look. “I keep you with me every day. I love you so much, jellybean, but I don’t think I’m comin’ back. I know I promised, I know, but I don’t think I am. I trained you to keep yourself safe. Keep your mother safe. And Lils, and Carter too, because if I don’t come back then I don’t know what sorta things will come after your blood and I know they will, so please, be safe. You’re a Rainer, Ivonne, don’t ever forget that. I love you more than life itself, sweetheart. Don’t come looking for me. I’m sorry.” 

I gasped once I saw the video message, immediately searching for my phone. I dialled my mom frantically, holding the phone to my ear. 

“Please, please…” I muttered, pacing and trying to keep tears from falling. 

‘Honey?’ My mum answered. ‘What’s wrong?’ 

“Mom, Dad’s in trouble. He sent me a message saying that this could be the last he sees me, but I…“

‘Did he tell you where he was?’ 

“No, he just told me not to look-“ 

‘Then don’t. He’s said it for a reason. The term’s almost over, wait for another message and if not, come straight home, ok?’ She cut the call, and I collapsed on my bed, hyperventilating. 

What if I never see him again? 

I can’t do any of this without him.

“So much for our low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database.” Sam sighed, checking the police database and showing us the mugshots of Dean. 

“Dude. It’s like I’m Dillinger or somethin’.” Dean grinned excitedly. 

“Mhmm.” I nodded. “You’re a wanted criminal in the FBI’s database, which is a huge drawback cause we travel everywhere, and you’re rejoicing. But hey, at least they got your good angles.” 

“Well, what do they got on you two?” 

“Nothing on me, cause James managed to clear me of all charges.” 

“You’re lucky your police boy could help out.” 

“Well, I caused no evident law breaking, so they can’t press.” 

“What about Sammy?” 

“I’m sure they haven’t posted it yet.” Sam muttered. 

“What? No accessory, no nothing?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re jealous.” Dean laughed. 

“No, I’m not!” Sam protested, giving Dean a look. 

“As if someone would be jealous of being wanted for murder, breaking and entering, escape and grave desecration.” I scoffed. 

“What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young woman, you?” Dean grinned, so I looked at the case file. 

“Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed.” 

“Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?” 

“Two days before.”

”And did he actually say ‘black dog’?” 

“Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog.” Sam nodded. “The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive.” 

“Do you think we’re dealing with an actual black dog?” 

“Maybe.” 

“What’s the lore on it?” 

“It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but... some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty.” 

“Well, it could be a death omen.” I suggested. “Spectral black dogs never attack without reason. We could be dealing with a Grim sort of thing. Like, you know, Harry Potter.” 

“You have… the Grim.” Dean mimicked, making us all laugh. 

“So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?” Sam asked. We were interviewing his business partner. 

“That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?” 

“A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest.” The man laughed, drawing a weird look from us. “This funny to you?” 

“No, it... it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind... well, he gets another tribute.” 

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Any reason why he would do such a thing?” 

“I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life.” 

“How so?” 

“He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I... and it wasn't always that way, either.” 

“No?” I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms. 

“You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive.”

”What changed?”

”You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing... he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart...” He trailed off. 

“What?” 

“It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why... why just throw it away?”

“So…” Sam drummed on the glove box. “Dean.”

”What about Dean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

”You two care for each other a lot.”

“That’s natural.” 

“A lot.” 

“What are you implying?”

”That you and my brother could be a… a thing… someday.” 

“Keep dreaming.” I laughed. “Dean and I have a good thing goin’. Plus, he flirts with every girl his age he sets his eyes on.” 

“If you say so.” Sam grinned, nudging me. “In the meantime, you can flirt with James Rhodes. Keep your options open-“ 

“Shut up.” We started giggling, but then Dean came back.

”So?” 

“Secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty three, she, uh, kayaks, and they're real.” Dean grinned. 

“Spare the details of your latest hookup, Dean.” I sighed. “What did you get on the black dogs?” 

“Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all. And, uh,” He pulled off a post-it note from his clipboard, “I don't know what this thing is.” I took it and raised an eyebrow, handing it to Sam. 

“I have no idea what this is.”

“You mean Carly’s MySpace address?” Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?” Dean frowned. “Is that some dating site or somethin’?” 

We had been round most houses, but they were just cases of barking Pomeranians. Naturally, Deans as starting to get mad. 

“I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbour’s yard...” He knocked on the next door, and a lady opened it, looking nervous.

”Afternoon, ma’am.” I flashed my badge. “Animal control.” 

“Oh, someone already came yesterday.” She blinked, and we shared a look. 

“Oh, we're just following up.” Sam excused. “We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?” 

“The Doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago.” 

“Ok. And you are..?” 

“Ms Pearlman’s maid.” She stammered. 

“So where did the Doctor go?” 

“I'm not sure. She just packed and went, she didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?” 

“Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?” I asked, feigning concern.

“Well, no. I never even heard it.” Dean looked at a photo, analysing it. The maid continued nervously, “I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so...” 

“Hey, you know I read she was, uh chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That's pretty young for that job.” Dean  probed casually. 

“Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position... ten years ago?” 

“Ten years?” I raised an eyebrow. “An overnight success, too.”

“Yeah, we know a guy like that.” Dean nodded, gesturing to the painting. “And, look, Lloyd’s bar.” 

We pulled up at Lloyd’s bar, and outside there were yellow flowers growing around the door. I pulled out my pocket botany guide, flicking through it. 

“Yellow flowers?” Dean scoffed. “Wanna pick ‘em, Beanie?” 

“Not just any yellow flowers.” I replied, reading the page I’d found. “Yarrow flowers. They’re used in summoning rituals. Someone planted them here.” 

“So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's.” 

“Where there just happens to be a crossroads.” Sam frowned. “You think?” 

“Let’s find out.” We went to the crossroads, taking a shovel and digging in the dead centre. We eventually hit something solid, and we shared a look. “Yahtzee.” I pulled out a box, opening it and checking the contents. 

“Graveyard dirt, black cat bone, all hardcore and unmistakeable methods to summon a demon.” I informed, tapping the side of the vial of graveyard dirt. 

“That’s serious hoodoo.” 

“No, not just to summon one.” I shook my head. “Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good. These people aren’t seeing just spectral black dogs. These are hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls that guard hell’s gates and drag anyone who belongs there in if they’ve sold their soul or belong there.” You can bring people back by summoning demons. Bring anyone back.

‘Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting.”  Sam sighed. 

“And that doctor lady?” Dean grimaced. “Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough.” 

“So it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?” 

“Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music. You don't know Robert Johnson's songs? Sam, there's, there's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail?” Dean rolled his eyes when Sam didn’t follow. “The story goes, he died choking on his own blood, he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs.” 

“And now it’s happening all over again.” 

“We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here.” I resolved, dusting off my hands. 

“Great. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for 'em? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced 'em to play Let's Make A Deal.” Dean frowned. 

“They’re human. We can’t leave them to die.” 

“Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?” 

“Dean.” 

“Fine.” He conceded. “Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing, let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive.” 

I was preparing for a big gymnastics tournament, stretching and testing my flexibility for the big moment. This could be my one chance to get to the Olympics. 

“Why so nervous, jellybean?” Dad was at the door, holding my bottle of water. 

“If I don’t get this, I don’t get the Olympics.” I sighed, taking the bottle. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetheart.” He patted my shoulder with a smile. “You’re gonna be fine.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“Because you’re Ivonne Rainer.” He smiled, bending to my height. “You’re the toughest girl I know. You take after your mother. She used to hunt, but after she had you she stopped. But I’ve never seen a lady like her until you grew up. You can load and shoot a gun faster than I can, so flying across that room should be child’s play to you.” He kissed my forehead, clasping our hands together. “So, who are you?” 

“I’m a Rainer.” 

“Who are you?!” 

“I’m a Rainer!” 

“I can’t hear you, solider! WHO ARE YOU?!” 

“I’M A RAINER!” He hugged me tight, patting my back. 

“Knock ‘em dead, tiger.”

We walked up the stairs in an apartment building, looking at a picture. 

“What's this guy's name again?” Sam asked. 

“George Darrow.” Dean informed. “Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's. Though this house probably ain't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded. “So whatever kind of deal he made-“

”Wasn't for cash. Oh, who knows. Maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis.” We gave him a look, “No, I'm just saying, this guy's got one epic bill come due. Hope at least he asked for something fun.” 

“Look at that.” Sam pointed at a black powder outside Darrow’s door, and I recognised it from somewhere. I touched it, staring at it. 

“Is that pepper?” Dean scoffed. 

“I… don’t know.” I frowned. 

“Who the hell are you?” Darrow grumbled, the door swinging open. 

“George Darrow?” Dean asked. 

“I’m not buyin’ anything.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, looks like you went for the wrong shaker there. Usually when you want to keep something evil out you go for the salt.” 

“I don't know what you talkin' about.” 

“I’m talkin’ about this.” Dean held up a picture of a hellhound. “You seen this yet?” 

“Look. We want to help. Please. Just five minutes.” Sam begged. He let us in wordlessly, and we stepped in, cautious not to disturb the black line. “So what is that stuff out front?” I blew on the black dust, and then I got it.

“Goofer dust.” Darrow and I said at the same time, but Sam and Dean stared at us.

“What, you boys think you know somethin' about somethin' but not Goofer dust? Girl gets it.” Darrow lectured gruffly, tossing Dean a brown sack.

“Well, we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous.” Dean replied casually. 

“What is it?” Sam asked. 

“Hoodoo. My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons.“ He waddled over to a chair. “Four minutes left.” 

“Mr. Darrow. We know you're in trouble.” 

“Trouble that you got yourself into.” Dean sniffed. 

“But there’s still hope, alright? There's gotta be something we can do.” 

“Listen. I get that you boys want to help.” Darrow sighed. “But sometimes a person makes their bed, they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one called that demon in the first place.” 

“What d’you do it for?” I asked, gaining a stunned look. “You heard me. Why did you do it?”

“I was weak. I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just... I just never thought about the price.” 

“Was it worth it?” 

“Hell no. 'Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I'm still broke, and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want. But that wasn't the worst.” 

“Go on.” 

“Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean who's goin' to listen to an old drunk?” 

“George, how many other people are there? Like you?”

“Uh, the architect, that doctor lady — I kept up with them, they've been in the papers. Least they got famous.” 

“Think, George.” 

“One more. Uh, nice guy too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for.” 

“No.” Sam refused, “No, there’s gotta be a way.” 

“You don't get it! I don't want a way!” 

“Look-“

”I called that thing! I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'till then. Buy a little time. Okay, boys. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help.” 

“We can’t just-“ 

“Get out! I have work to do.” 

“You don't really want to die.” 

“I don’t?” He scoffed. “I’m… I’m tired.” 

“C’mon, Sam.” I gently took Sam away. “Thank you for your time, sir. It was good meeting you.”

“You too, girlie.”

We knocked on Evan Hudson’s door, and he opened it a small bit. 

“Yes?” He whispered. 

“Evan Hudson?” Sam asked. 

“You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago.” Dean added, but then Evan slammed the door. “Come on, we're not demons!” I focused, forgetting about the rune etched into my arm, and my eyes momentarily glowed blue, but then I felt a searing pain in my arm and stopped, falling back against the wall. “Beanie! What happened?” 

“I’m fine, I just tried to use my…” I gestured to my forearm and he understood. “Got any bright ideas?” Dean reared up, then went to kick the door open, but I opened it just by pushing the handle down. Dean collapsed in a crumpled heap, and Sam helped him up with a smirk. “Evan?” 

“Don’t hurt me!” Evan whimpered, jumping out from behind a bookshelf. 

“You know, if we were demons, that’s a terrible thing to do.” I sighed. “We’re here to help, not hurt you. We know about that deal with the demon 10 years ago.” 

“What? How?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam said. “All that matters is how we stop it.” 

“How do I know you're not lying?” 

Dean shrugged. “Well, you don't, but you're kinda running low on options there, buddy-boy.” 

Evan started pacing. “Can you stop it?” 

“Don’t know.” Sam frowned. “But we’ll try.” 

“I don't want to die.” 

“Of course you don’t, not now.” Dean smirked. 

“Dean, stop.” Sam hissed. 

“What did you ask for, Evan?” I asked intently, stepping forward. 

“My wife.” Evan gulped. 

Dean scoffed. “Right. Gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for.” 

Sam glared at Dean, who, I’ll admit, was getting out of hand. “Stop, Dean.”

”No. He's right, I made the deal.” Evan nodded. “Nobody twisted my arm, that... woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but... I don't know how to— I was desperate.” 

“Desperate?” 

“Julie was dying.” 

“You did it to save her?” Dean frowned. 

“She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying... a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot.” 

“Did you ever think about her?” 

“I did this for her.” 

“You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel-“ 

“Will all of you just shut up already?!” I burst out, silencing everyone. “We’ll figure something out. Evan, keep a close watch, grab anything pure iron in your house and have it as a weapon. Boys, we need to figure this out.” Evan rushed to find something iron, while Sam, Dean and I talked. “Dean, are you ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” Dean shrugged. “Hey, I got an idea.”

”What is it?” 

“You throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon.” 

“Summon-“ Sam scoffed, “are you nuts?!” 

“Maybe a little. But Beanie and I can trap it. We can exorcise it, and can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.” 

“But how much time are we talkin’?” I asked, folding my arms. 

“I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine.” 

“No. No way.” Sam refused. 

“You’re not allowed to say no, Sammy, unless you’ve got a better plan.” 

“Dean, you can forget it, all right? I'm not letting you summon that demon.” 

“Why?” Dean challenged. “Why not?” 

“Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why.” 

“We don’t have time for this-“ 

“Dad. You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell. I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it too.” 

“It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul-”

“That’s enough.” I interrupted through gritted teeth. “Neither of your heads are in the right place at the right time and it’s frustrating because you’re meant to be here and now, not stuck in a decision that John made. Dean, you feel guilty about it and I get that feeling more than anything, and Sam, you want to keep everyone as safe as possible, but, right now, we need both of these things,” I tapped my head, “to be clear so we can actually pull off a plan. Sam, take the goofer dust and make a circle around you and Evan. Once it breaks, book it. Dean, you and I are going to summon the demon. Once we get it in the Solomon trap, I’ll exorcise it. We good with that?” 

“Yeah.” They nodded meekly. 

“I think I hear it! It's outside!” Evan called from inside. 

I turned to them both, taking out my book of exorcisms. “Keep Evan alive, Sam.” 

Sam frowned. “Ivy-“ 

“Just do it!” 

Dean placed his ID in George’s hoodoo box, burying it in the centre of the crossroad. I was in hiding, having already painted the Solomon trap. 

“So. What brings a guy like you to a place like this?” The crossroads demon was behind Dean as he stood up. He looked her up and down, and I studied the Latin I needed to read. “You called me?”

”I’m just glad it worked.” Dean smirked. 

“First time?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Oh, come on now. Don't sell yourself short. I know all about you, Dean Winchester.” She started circling him, almost like a panther prowling around its prey. The irony was satisfying, really. 

“So, you know about me.” 

“I get the newsletter.” 

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What have you heard?” I know you’re stalling, but, really, Dean?

”Well, I heard you were handsome, but ... you're just edible.” I gagged from where I was hiding. Who says that? “What can I do for you, Dean?” 

“Maybe we should do this in my car. Nice and private.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

“So I was hoping we could strike a deal.” Dean offered as they strolled to his car,

“That’s what I do.” The demon smirked. 

“I want Evan Hudson released from his contract.” 

“Oh, sorry, darling. That’s non-negotiable.” 

“I'll make it worth your while.” 

“Really? What are you offering?” 

“Me.” WHAT THE HELL-

“I see. Sacrificing your life for someone else’s. Like father, like son, I guess. “You did know about your dad's deal, right?” She chuckled darkly, giving him innocent eyes, but I knew they weren’t as advertised. “His life for yours? Oh, I didn't make the deal myself, but... boy, I wish I had.” 

Dean opened the car door, teeth gritted. “After you.” 

“Such a gentleman.” She was about to get in, but stopped upon seeing an inscription poke out from under the car. “A Devil's Trap? You've got to be kidding me. You stupid, stupid... I should rip you limb from limb.“ 

“Take your best shot.” Dean retorted almost pleadingly, backing towards the actual trap. 

“No. I don't think so. I'm not going to put you out of your misery.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because your misery's the whole point. It's too much fun to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you, how he sold his soul. I mean, that's gotta hurt. It's all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, ‘I can't do this anymore.’” Keep with it, Dean. “You're all lit up with pain. I mean, you loved him so much. And it's all your fault. You blew it, Dean! I could have given you what you need.” 

“What-“ 

“You’re not the only one who feels this way. Imagine Ivy Rainer, forced to live the life her dear brother was meant to. You can make a deal on behalf of her, not Evan Hudson. Now those are terms I can negotiate. Your Beanie can be happy, Dean. Have her family back, and she can be whole.” I gasped silently, glancing towards where the box was buried.

“What do I need?” 

“Your father. I could have brought him back. Your loss. Seeya, Dean. I wish you a nice long life.” She started to walk away-

“Hold on.” She stopped, smiling. 

“You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces. I just can't leave you like this. Besides. You didn't call me here to bargain for Evan. Not really.” 

“Can you bring him back? My dad?” He asked. 

“Of course I can. Just as he was. Your dad would live a long and natural life, like he was meant to. That's a promise.” 

“What about me?” 

“I could give you ten years. Ten long good years with him. That's a lifetime. The family can be together again. John, Dean, Sammy. The Winchester boys all reunited.“ She walked towards him. “Look. Your dad's supposed to be alive. You're supposed to be dead. So we'll just set things straight, put things back in their natural order. And you get ten extra years on top. That's a bonus.” 

Dean turned and walked further away. “You think you could...” He turned to face her, “throw in a set of steak knives?”

She advanced towards him, ”You know, this smart-ass self-defense mechanism of yours...” She stopped, noticing that she was in a Solomon trap. “Dean!” 

“Now you’re trapped.” Dean grinned. “That’s gotta hurt. Beanie, you can come out now.” I emerged, holding my book. 

“Let me out. Now.” She hissed.

“In a bit. Thanks for the consideration, but if I wanted to make the deal, I’d have done it.” I smirk. “Alright, here’s our terms, because before you walk free, we need to make a deal. Evan walks free, and you call off your hellhounds. Do that, and you walk too.” 

“I can't break a binding contract.” 

“There’s a difference between ‘can’t’ and ‘don’t want to’; it’ll do you a favour to learn it.” I retorted. “Last chance. Evan and his wife get to live to a ripe old age. Going, going...” 

“Let’s talk about this-“ 

“Ok, gone.” I pulled out a rosary, and she glanced at it. 

“What-what are you doing?” 

“You’re just going on a trip.” Dean grinned. “Way down south.” 

“Forget Evan. Think of your dad. Both of your dads-“ 

“Regna terrae,” I read, pacing around her. “cantate deo…” I continued reading, watching her shiver and cry out in pain. “in potentis magnife!” 

“Release!” She cried, and Dean and I shared a triumphant look. But then she cupped the nape of Dean’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. I looked away, shutting my book with a snap as he pulled away. 

“What was that for?” Dean spat. 

“Sealing the deal.” 

“I usually like to be warned before I’m violated with demon lips.” 

“Evan Hudson is free. He and his wife will live long lives.” 

“How do we know you’re not lying?” 

“My word is my bond.” 

“Oh, really?” I handed Dean the Latin book and the rosary.

“It is when I make a deal. It's the rules. You got what you wanted. Now let me go.” Dean fiddled with the rosary, contemplating it. “You're gonna double-cross me? Funny how I'm the trustworthy one.” She scoffed. “You know, you renege? Send me to hell? Sooner or later I'm gonna climb out, and skinning Evan Hudson will be the first thing that I do.” Dean stashed the rosary, breaking the circle. She stepped out, giving us a look. “I gotta tell you. You would have never pulled that stunt if you knew.” 

“Knew what?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“About your dads. You should have made that deal. See, people talk about hell, but it's just a word. It doesn't even come close to describing the real thing-“

“Shut your mouth.” 

“If you could see your poor daddy? Hear the sounds he makes 'cause he can't even scream?” She sneered to Dean. 

He advanced on her. “How about I send you back there?” He growled. She screamed, ichor pouring out of her mouth and flying into the distance. The lady fell, and we caught her, but she looked terrified. 

“What... how did I get here?” 

“You take care of her.” I sighed. “I’ll bury the box where no one will find it.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded, and started to help the girl away. I looked at the box, digging it up and pocketing Dean’s ID. Then I took out my own, putting it in the box and burying it in the centre of the crossroads. 

“You called?” I turned, seeing a male crossroads demon this time, wearing a suit. He had brown hair and clever blue eyes, and he walked up to me. “Oh, I know you. Ivonne Rainer. You’re a celebrity back where I come from.” 

“Glad to know.” I retorted. “I want to get back to Sam and Dean before they get suspicious, so let’s get this over with.” 

“Damn, you’re more of a sexy woman than you were put out to be.” He smirked, looking me up and down. “If I was human, well, I’d have asked you out. Anyway, what can I do for you?” 

“Bring my father back to life. Bottom line. No reviving his corpse, actual, healed, human.” 

“I can do that.” He nodded. “Really simple.” 

“Good. How many years do you want from me, then?” 

“No years.” He glanced down at my neck. “I want that necklace.” 

“Why?” 

“You don’t need the burden of how many years you have left, you have enough of a weight on your back already.” I thought about it. “Necklace or no necklace?” 

I took it off and gave it to him, sighing. “Ok, now kiss me, but make it short and sweet.” 

“That takes the fun out of it, but ok.” He kissed me for a millisecond, then winked. “It was fun doing business with you.” He then disappeared, and I walked away, confused. 

My necklace?

I had made dinner for the boys, who were eagerly eating it with cups of cocoa by their plates. I sipped one myself, munching on the food. 

“This is the best pasta I’ve ever had, Beanie, dear God.” Dean praised through a mouthful of food. “This is heavenly.” 

“This is amazing, Ivy.” Sam grinned, sipping his cocoa. Then the doorbell rang, and I stood up, going over to the door while preparing to reach my gun from behind my back, tucked in a holster above the waistband of my shorts. I opened the door, and my heart almost dropped out of my chest. 

“Jellybean?” My dad stood there, ruffled hair and all, looking just like the last video he sent me eight years ago. He cupped my cheeks, looking at me with tears in his eyes. His index touched the gap between my eyebrow, complete with a scar in it. “That’s your scar. And your freckles. Yeah, it’s you. It’s really you. But you’re all grown up…” He laughed, wiping a tear off my cheek. 

“Dad…” I whispered, throwing my arms around his torso. “You’re here, you’re really here.” He hugged me tightly, smoothing down my hair. Sam and Dean came into the hallway, staring at Dad like they’d seen a ghost. I detached myself, hurriedly drying my tears.

”Who’re these two, jellybean?” Dad asked, looking confused. 

“O-Oh, uh… Mr R-Rainer.” Dean stammered. “We didn’t expect to see you here. At all.” 

“Come in, sir, make yourself at home.” Sam gulped, giving me a look. “Ivy, we need to talk.”

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#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x oc #spn #spn masterlist #supernatural #dean winchester x you #ivonne rainer

[creepycassidy]

hiii!! I really love AU Albert where he isnt the Grabber (Also I jst love Ethan with long hair really and the behind the scenes of him without the Grabber mask and his long hair makes my heart melt, he looks so… Soft ??😭😭) can u make more headcanons for AU albert i think youre the only one ive come across that has made the HC for AU Albert 😭

Yes, of course!! I’m so glad you enjoyed the other HCs for Alt Al! This is going to be sorta messy but it’s fine, mostly just other random headcanons I have for him. I LOVE doing these, so if anyone has any more specific HC requests for Alt Al, please feel free to send them in!

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Fluffy Alternate Universe!Albert Shaw HCs Pt. 2

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Warnings: mentions of food, lots of fluff!!

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Al cannot cook. Even in this universe, most of what he makes for himself is eggs, mac and cheese, very simple things that he can pop into the oven or cook in a microwave/toaster oven.

If you’re a good cook, he LOVES it when you make dinner. Simple things and take out is alright, but nothing compares to sitting down with you for a home cooked meal.

This big dope wants to help you out, but don’t forget that he’s a major klutz. He will burn himself on a hot pan. Probably more than once. You should also expect to get a little messy, honestly!! Eggs are getting dropped, and he’s totally gonna squeeze and hug you with flower all over his hands. He’s a goofball.

But this all obviously results in you tending to his burns.

On the other hand, if you ever happen to get hurt in or out of the kitchen, Al is going to kiss your booboos and you can’t stop him!! He loves to baby you like that, it makes him feel good to take care of you.

Al kisses you so softly, brows furrowed together in silly determination to take away the ouch. He’s a magician, after all. Magicians can do that, didn’t you know?

“One, two, three… mwah! See, we’re alllll better, yeah?”

This man is such daddy material and he doesn’t even know it

Though as much as he loves kids, he could never and would never have them himself. This version of Albert is stable enough to know better than to pass his genes down. He knows he’s a mess.

Sammy and his rabbit are enough like children for him, thank you very much.

Back to the topic of take out, those are his favorite types of dates. If he’s not taking you out to dinner, he loves to order it in and get all fancied up. (I hc that he needs glasses, so he may even wear those.) guh!! He smells so nice too.

Put on a movie, keep the lights dim. Voilà. Abracadabra. Instant romance.

Sit in Al’s lap, pleaasssseeeee!! You are so very soft and warm and he loves to touch your skin/stroke your hair throughout the movie.

Afterwards, if you’re feeling up to it and aren’t too tired, don’t put it past him to clear the living room floor to dance with you.

He’s not a particularly good dancer. As a matter of fact, he really has two left feet when it comes to it, but it’s endearing.

Max has given him several records for Christmas gifts over the years, so you pick the music.

Funny enough, the van is an optimal date spot too. Simple, but there’s nothing wrong with that. The back is kinda cluttered (y’know since he’s not picking up children in it lmao) but that can be cleaned up. Throw some blankets back there, park, and bam. You’ve got yourself a prime place for cuddles and kisses and lots of stupid puns and jokes from Al all night long (along with possible other things that I may discuss in another post…)

It’s goofy, you could just do all that stuff at home…but, well, he’s goofy.

If you haven’t taken the big step of moving in with him yet, he always asks that you call him up when you get home, just to let him know you made it safe. There’s too many weirdos around Galesburg.

#the grabber #albert shaw #the black phone #creepycassidy #the grabber x you #the grabber x reader #headcanons #the grabber headcanons #alternate universe #tw: food #anon request