#I like it a lot and I hope to write a lot of longer fics on this blog

[softmangoes]

First, I just wanna say, I adore your writing. From your word choice to the way you convey every emotion, it is nothing short of stunning.

I binged all of your writing, and I was so thrilled to find your DoL fics!!!! If you’re feeling inspired, I’d love to see your take on the LIs reacting to the PC becoming a Fallen Angel, especially if the PC fell for them (like, letting them take the PC’s purity).

In game, it feels kind of tragic falling, especially when doing the quest for the spear, but on the other hand, the whole, who needs a God’s love when I have you is a special type of romantic that I really love.

I hope you have a wonderful holiday season if you celebrate! If not, I hope you’re having a wonderful winter in general!!!

hi hello!! thank you for all your kind words and i'm so glad you liked my dol fics!! 💛

the graciousness of your message has filled my well of inspiration, so here you go and i hope you also enjoy this 🥭

"why me?" pure!sydney says between breaths, between kisses that only make you both yearn for more. your skin is hot against his, while the wall of the library's private study room is cold against his back. he knows he shouldn't be doing this, that the temple would strip him of his status, and that your embrace marks the end of something he's been building all his life.

so why him? you are a holy thing, after all. untainted. pure.

and yet, as you grind against his length, the slickness of you irrestible now that his cage lies beside him in fragments, he finds no trace of regret within him - only reverence, only devotion. only the urge to take your breast in his mouth and to finally slip his length inside you, savoring the warm wetness that anoints him with the miracle of your consummation and the sound of your song.

"because it's me," he murmurs, his hips finding the pace that makes you shudder. after all, why can't a study room be a holy place? who says the bruises from his lips can't count as praise? when he feels you tighten around him, your feathers smoldering as your voice cracks in pleasure, he has his answer. "because," he gasps, reverence threatening to spill. "there's no one better to worship you."

"all saints die," corrupt!sydney murmurs, breath hot between your thighs. his fingers are digging into your hips. the marble altar is cold against your back. you both know you aren't supposed to be here, but there is a thrill in the forbidden.

he dips his tongue into your warmth, the sensation of his veneration smoldering even moreso than the feathers charring on your back. "what is this, but another apotheosis?" he muses, pulling his midnight hair into a ponytail. "another transformation?"

you feel thrilled at the comparison, knowing how you have both changed each other.

a dark force churns within you, tight and coiling. you recognize it as hunger, as the lust you have denied yourself so long in the face of virtue. but what use is virtue, when it can be easily cleaved by the warmth of a hot tongue? when the eyes that behold you in worship reflect the same golden light that used to grace your skin every day? as if sensing your hunger, sydney slips his fingers inside you, filling you. your hips sway into his touch, wanting more. wanting to burn together.

you shake in whitney's embrace, whimpering at the pain, the burning, the visions of the world cracking open and corruption spilling through like so many hungry tentacles reaching to engulf the light. and yet, you would do it all over again to feel his breath, his skin, his desire for you all for the first time.

"hey," he says, scooping cold water onto your tender back. it does little against the fire you feel in every feather, the taint eating away at each filament. "stay with me." there's a tinge of panic in his insistence. you aren't quite sure whether it's real or a hallucination. although he is your former tormentor, this is a kind of pain he is unfamiliar with, yet committed by his hand all the same.

your eyes dull. whitney adjusts his weight, water sloshing in the bath. he jostles you, willing you to stay conscious. whatever the fuck is going on with you, you can't leave him. you can't go before he knows how to help you.

before the darkness takes you, the last thing you hear is him telling you he is sorry.

there are tears in kylar's eyes. "it hurts?" he says, daring to touch your half-singed feathers. you nod, straining to unfurl them to reveal the slow fire eating away at the soft ivory. your halo is cracked, bleeding inky corruption that sizzles upon contact with the air. "it's because we...." his voice shakes, the guilt lancing through the pleasure of your skin just moments ago. "we..."

how dare his selfishness cause your agony. if only he could unmake a moment, exercise even a minute of restraint. perhaps then, you wouldn't be in this pain. his fingernails dig into his palm, teeth sinking into his lips as tears stream down his face freely.

but your mouth covers his, your soft tongue lapping at the blood beading on his lips. your kiss, so gentle, feels nothing like lament. only the delicate grace of forgiveness.

"you're beautiful," eden says, mouth hot against the hollow of your neck. when he first saw you, wings unfurled in the light of the clearing, he thought that you were some kind of strange bird. right as he leveled his shotgun to take aim, he remembered you turning to face him, a look of surprise gracing your features as you beheld the man who would have been your end.

it was a while before he first touched you. your skin burned. the air in the cabin would ripple from your heat. even the bars of the cage threatened to warp. in the cold of the winter, your rage radiated at your confinement, a prized bird trapped in crude metal.

the hunter knew that he was not worth your beauty. your very presence made the shadows of his past all the more darker. you were an angel, a being of pure light, and all he wanted to do was take your warmth for his.

then one day, like a miracle, you came for him. he had collapsed into the cabin, his body stiffened by the cold. hair cracking with ice. he had fallen into the lake while fishing, the ice sheet far thinner than what he originally estimated. he looked at you, glowing in the dark of the cabin, teeth chattering as he unlocked the cage with his hand outstretched.

"go," he rasped as the door swayed open. "it won't be long until -"

warmth spread across his body the moment your mouth pressed against his. you tasted like honey, like sunlight, like every summer he never thought he would live to see. to his surprise, he found you breathless, lips at his neck, telling him to take you.

"why?" he asks, voice hoarse. his fingers run through your hair. because he fell, you tell him, and it was only right that you would as well.

"something's burning," robin says, fear tinging his desire. "is it you? we can stop -"

you silence him with a kiss, tongue tasting his lust for you. your feathers are charring, your halo cracking. before this, you had both talked about the consequences of what would happen. once you were intertwined, there would be no going back. the both of you would be burned into each other's lives forever.

besides, this moment feels less like falling and more like flying: robin's warm eyes on you, his soft mouth parted in pleasure, each sway of his hips bringing you both closer to sweet oblivion. all you can do is card your fingers through his hair as he whimpers against you, sending you both soaring into the heights of a new heaven.

"the moon waxes and wanes," the wraith says, tentacles tracing the darkness of your once brilliant wings. one of them prods at the shards of your halo, corruption leaking from its fragments. you wince, the pain sharp despite the gentleness of the abomination's touch. "and even when it bleeds, it is beautiful."

tendrils, thick and strong, knead along your shoulder blades right where your wings protract from your back. this earns a sigh of relief from you - one that he drinks eagerly with his cold mouth.

"flight must make you ache," he says, his voice nothing less than a sonorous purr. "i may be able to assist."

with his lower pair of hands, the wraith lifts you against the walls of the ruin. he slips inside you with ease, your fingers grasping the silver threads of his hair as you take him. his countless tendrils suckle and writhe against your skin, drawing sounds that echo into the darkness of the ruin. the wraith is a force, a wave of pleasure that does nothing else but pull you further and further into its depths.

after all, you chose to sacrifice the love of a god for the heart of a monster. what else can he do, except devour you?

[justanotherjaydrawing]

Here it is, the first instalment of my biggest project yet!

If you are the best part of me is a 4k word fic exploring the Miya twins dynamic and addressing the struggles that come with constantly being compared to someone. (more yapping plus bigger images below)

This fic is fairly stand alone so I feel comfortable posting it on its own. Parts two and three are both significantly longer so we will see how I go with posting them, but for now, I hope you enjoy this starting point!

[like-the-rest-of-la]

Happy Little Accidents

The last thing Eddie Diaz expects to come out of his trip to Buckley’s Plant Nursery & Landscaping with his son, is to develop an honest to god schoolgirl crush on the guy who owns the place (and not notice that that is what’s happening for an embarrassingly long time).  

The plan is simple. Get in, have Christopher pick out a couple of succulents or whatever he needs for his school project, and get out without infesting any of the gorgeous plants in the shop with his bad plant karma. 

But then, the first thing he’s greeted with is a hunk of a man, carrying two heavy packs of soil on his broad shoulders. Eddie swears he can see a drop of sweat running down the man’s face in slow motion. His t-shirt looks like it’s one strategic muscle flex away from bursting at the seams and Eddie—Eddie feels nervous all of the sudden. And he’s gaping like a fish. 

“Hey,” Hunk-man says as he hoists the soil on the counter next to him with a grunt, “What can I help you with?”

At least Eddie has enough self-awareness to close his mouth.

Or: the one where Buck owns a plant nursery and Eddie stumbles through his crush (and has no game during all of it)—oh and also, there are a lot of Bob Ross references.

Read on Ao3

(With a banner by the wonderful @theladyyavilee thank you so so so much <3)

[di-diwata]

To @darling-ed, a treat for the @mcytblrholidayexchange!

When I saw you had requested these two from Harmony hollow S3, and that you were open to treats, I knew I had to make something! I love these two a lot, so getting to draw them was so fun!

I tried a couple things out (both writing and art) but decided to go with a more chibi art style! It's a bit simplistic, but I really like how they turned out :D

I think you can view this as either romantic or platonic (I know you requested both) but the intention was romantic! I just can't draw kissing for the life of me lol.

Anyways, hope you enjoy the gift, and hope you have a good holiday season!

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket

*shuffles feet*

...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).

Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓

Day 17

Read on ao3

Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight

————————————————————

Getting out was a blur.

Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.

There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.

It was a struggle not to just pass out.

But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.

The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.

Link flinched anyway.

The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.

Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.

He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.

Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?

Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.

One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.

How many were there?

“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?

“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”

“Well what was I supposed to do?”

“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”

“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”

A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.

“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?��� The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.

“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.

He swallowed.

“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.

“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”

“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?

All he was was a battery.

“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”

They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?

The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.

Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.

Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.

He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.

Sunlight.

Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.

He was outside.

He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.

He was out.

He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.

It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.

Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.

Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.

(...)

The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.

Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.

Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.

He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.

Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.

“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.

“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.

What all did he go through in there?

“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.

“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.

Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.

“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.

“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”

Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.

“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.

It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.

Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.

“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.

“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”

“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”

Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he whispered.

Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.

It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.

But that can wait.

Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.

But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.

“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.

“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.

Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.

“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”

“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.

“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”

Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—

Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.

The Shadow will pay for this.

“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.

He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.

You’re safe.

(...)

The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.

His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.

Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.

Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.

They couldn’t be removed.

Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.

It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.

How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.

How did you ever handle me?

Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.

His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.

Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.

But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.

Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.

It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.

Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.

And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.

(...)

Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.

“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”

“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.

He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.

He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.

The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.

“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”

And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—

He woke up.

Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—

Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—

“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”

He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.

He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.

His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.

Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.

He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—

A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.

Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.

Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.

Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.

That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.

“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”

Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.

(...)

After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.

Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.

It was wonderful.

He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.

But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.

But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.

He would keep going.

And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.

Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...

A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

...Link could wait.

[reineyday]

here, have an excerpt of this mishanks fic that i just got back into writing (i wrote a lot of it back in feb). it's a bonded dreams au, but they don't realize for a long time that it's really them haha. :)) they are 11 and 15 in this snippet, and shanks is a lil hawkeyes fanboy. 🦅🗡

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 ~

💚💜 𝙶𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚘𝚛: @charismakat 💚💜

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙺𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚎!𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚂𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 😭💔. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻 𝙰𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙻 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙵𝚁 💖💝💘💗˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟺,𝟷𝟺𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💚

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝟸 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗, 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢. 𝚂𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚗-𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚌. 𝙰𝚃. 𝙰𝙻𝙻. 𝙸 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕’𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝚂𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜.)

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @veryblushyswitch @tmntalways

@pocky-dragon @my-l0v3r-v3rse @jamiesgotchu

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍…𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚖, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍/𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ;)

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝!!!

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙴𝚃’𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“April, you gotta focus…”

“I am focused!”

Donatello crossed his arms along his plastron, glaring at his older sister as his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. “Alright then. If you’re ever so focused like you say you are…then riddle me this: what is that phone doing in your hand?” The softshell turtle asked, pointing to April’s phone that was in the palm of her hand. 

The girl looked away sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck and not even bothering to say a rebuttal to the question. The younger teen sighed impatiently, pinching the bridge of his snout.

The two siblings were currently in April’s bedroom, sitting on her carpeted floor along with some papers and folders scattered around them. The two were wearing their pajamas— as it was night time when they decided they should meet up and study. Well…for April to study.

The girl in question wore a black t-shirt with green checkerboard pants, and also wearing a bonnet for her hair along with her signature green glasses. Donnie on the other hand wore his signature purple hoodie, purple leg warmers and as well as his purple mask.

The older one scoffed, quickly sliding the phone underneath her bed and grabbing the history notes that were placed next to her. The girl straightened her posture, pretending to look over the messy notes she took earlier in class, making 'mhm’s' and 'uh-huh’s' here and there.

“What phone?” She asked innocently as if she wasn’t on YouTube a couple seconds ago.

The mutant dramatically sighed, massaging his forehead and laying down on the carpeted floor, his plastron facing up. The human teenager dramatically sighed as well, mimicking her brother’s fall on the floor.

“You can’t blame me for this, Dee! Studying is so freaking boring.” She groaned. “When am I ever going to have to know about these old guys in real life?” April asked genuinely, looking at her notes with the Founding Fathers faces on it before shivering, putting the pictures of them face down. The turtle teen sat back up, giving her an unamused eyebrow raise.

“April…”

“No! Like seriously. Let’s be real for a second here, Don. Who the absolute hell is gonna randomly come up to me and say: Who was the guy that led the battle of Ft. Sumter?” She said as she sat up as well. The softshell turtle blinked at her, then blinked at her once more, slightly tilting his head to the side in confusion. 

“Your…history teacher?” He stated, chuckling a bit. The girl threw a nearby pillow at her brother as he laughed, catching it and throwing it back at her. “Besides him!” She groaned, putting the pillow to the other side of her.

The purple banded turtle sighed, “Riri…I know this is atrociously boring for you but you got to at least make an effort here. This is your last grade of the 3rd semester!” Donnie stated sternly, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his computer that he brought with him when sneaking into the other's apartment. The older sighed, crossing her arms and glaring at the floor stubbornly. She absolutely hated when Donnie had a point.

Which was usually 99.9% of the time…but still!

April rested her cheek in her palms, “I have a 88% in History though…” She pouted, trying to reason with her brother that they didn’t really need to study so freaking hard to delay the ONE bad grade she’s about to get.

And anyway, if she flunked this test, what’s the worst it could bump her grade down to? An 84? Possibly a 80? Yeah…no. She’s completely fine with those odds for sure.

“Besides, it’s in two days.” The human girl said, getting up from where she was sitting to go on her phone again. Donnie huffed, now starting to grow annoyed at his sister’s lack of motivation and focus. “The test is in two days and yet you still don’t know the 8th amendment…” The younger spat, glaring at his computer screen as he began to type more harshly by every passing word he typed.

“…Isn’t that the one which gives us the right to keep and bear arms?”

“That’s the second amendment…the eighth amendment is not being able to give cruel or unusual punishments.” Donnie explained whilst rolling his eyes.

Oh sweet pizza supreme in the sky…April was so screwed for this test…

“I was close enough…” The older groaned, going over to sit next to the other, leaning on his shoulder. “What’re you doing, anyway?” She asked, poking the purple banded teen’s cheek as she saw the evident scowl on the younger one’s face. The softshell rolled his eyes once more, pushing his sister slightly but with no real force to it.

“I’m looking at you’re grades, actually.” Donnie said in a very calm voice which only worked to his benefit as April’s eyes bulged like saucers. She grabbed the young genuis' laptop, looking through the tabs to actually make sure he was on her school app and he didn’t just hack in and steal her account.

“Wha— since when the FUCK did you have access to my grades, Donatello?” The older teen asked, looking at the younger as if she was .2 seconds away from hitting him with her bat from here, all the way to New Jersey.

“I’ve always had access to your grades.” The younger teenager shrugged, trying his best to ignore his older sister’s very angry tone. “Your username is April and your password is O’Neil…both in caps. It wasn’t really that hard to figure out, sis. It’s literally your well-known catchphrase.” He chuckled.

“Your password for all of your electronics is literally Bootyyyshaker9000! You have no right to talk about 'bad passwords.'” April scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Donnie who only laughed more at her retort, taking back his computer. “Touché.” He nodded.

“But the reason why I’m under your school account in the first place is because I’m looking over your notes and I have made digital flashcards based on most of them. You’re welcome.” The softshell explained, showing the other teen the flashcards he’s made. The eldest to laughed fondly, “Alright, Mr. Tech wiz. Show me whatcha got.”

“Let’s see…” The taller teen mumbled, scrolling through the flashcards before settling on one to ask his sibling. “Okay…who was defeated in the Battle of Gettysburg?” He asked, looking up at April only to find a nervous expression plastered on her face…an expression translating to 'I dunno what the answer is.'

“Abraham…Lincoln…?” April guessed in a small voice, knowing she was completely 100% wrong in every which way but couldn’t help at least trying.

“Wrong; obviously. But…you already knew that. The correct answer was Robert E Lee.” Donnie stated before looking down at his computer, searching for another flashcard. The softshell was about to ask another question but before he could muster up a word, he saw his sister’s facial expression.

No longer smug. Nor bored.

She was…blushing?

“Something wrong, Riri?” The younger asked, finding the flustered state of his older sister completely hilarious. The girl in questionn cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck before looming at her sibling again, “Are…Are you sure that’s his last name…? The…Robert dude you just mentioned.” The older asked as the softshell looked back at the computer, re-reading the text. “Mhm. I’m positive. That is what it says. You can look him up yourself if you’d like.” 

April groaned for probably the millionth time, putting her face into her palms. Because…Lee? Fucking really? This Robert E Lee guy couldn’t have picked a better last name for himself? He HAD to choose that as a last name?

Donnie shook his head fondly at his eldest sibling’s flustered state, searching for more of the flashcards he pulled up on his computer. Preferably more about this Robert E Lee fellow.

This embarrassed state of the eldest was a very rare sight— kind of like a once-in-a-full-moon sort of thing. So Donnie would do what any good sibling would do in this moment and enjoy the literal hell out of it while it lasted.

The purple cladded teen smiled, “If you were too much in…a mood to study, you could’ve just told me, April.” He giggly joked, which only caused the older to bury her face into her hands more, muttering a quiet 'shut up', but with no real venom behind it. The softshell chuckled, scrolling through the flashcards before pausing.

Holy mother of Pearl…hold ON a freaking second.

Now that he thought about it, it made so much sense that April was in…a mood. No wonder she was so unfocused! Either he’s completely over-analyzing this whole…situation or April’s just being a drama queen instead of just asking him to help with her whole…situation. Either or.

But he was going to bet his money on the first guess.

Suddenly, Donnie was snapped out of his thoughts as April grabbed his shoulder’s and started to shake him back and fourth somewhat in an aggresive manner. She sighed, noticing the pure surprise in the softshell’s eyes that he was now in fact out of Donnie-land and back on Earth.

“Oh thank God…I thought I was going to have to whack you with my bat to get you to respond.” April joked. But the purple banded turtle knew damn well (definitely not because of past experiences) that his sister would not hesitate to use her bat if she needed to.

“Anyways…we should take a break.” The girl said suddenly, trying to change the subject. The younger teen raised an amused brow, knowing exactly what his sister was doing and decided to play along. The turtle let out a a small laugh, “We took a break ten minutes ago.”

The eldest rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest a she huffed, “So let’s take another one!”

Donnie pinched the bridge of his snout— he was so SO close to punting April out of her apartment window…head. first. Oh sweet Gram-Gram up above have mercy on him.

The duo had just spent thirty minutes just arguing back and forth whether or not they should study…but they haven’t even truly studied yet! If they couldn’t get back on track soon, Donnie would fear he would be here all night…which…he wouldn’t really mind, of course. He loves spending time with his sister but he has more important things to do than help her study.

Like watching Bridgerton for example!

…Don’t judge him…

But anyway— April needed to start getting these facts in her brain ASAP! The test was in two days for crying out loud. And Donnie knows that April studying at the very last minute would not always give her B+'s and solid A-'s…much to the older’s disagreement.

“Y'know…I actually have an idea to help you with you’re sudden lack of motivation towards studying, Riri…” The younger smiled, trying to keep his tone as monotone as possible but couldn’t help the cheeky smile spreading across his face. The human girl raised suspicious a brow, not liking the sudden change of tone and facial expressions from her little brother.

That goofy little turtle was up to something. And April just KNOWS she’s going to be the victim of whatever he was planning.

“What’s this idea of yours, little brother?” She asked, suspicion clear in her voice as her chocolate brown eyed narrowed at him. “For it to work, can you sit directly in front of me so your back is facing towards yours truly?” The mutant asked, voice still very calm but his expression clearly mischievous. April’s suspicion only rose as her younger brother spoke…but did as she was told, sitting in front of him so her back was facing his front.

“Okaaaaay…? Now what? Any more instructions?” The girl asked, her suspicion being replaced by genuine confusion. The younger teen snickered, “I think it would be better if I…use an example.” He explained.

“Let me just think of a random question…oh! During WWI, what did the British manufacture and poison?” The young genius asked, waiting for his sister to answer. He couldn’t see the other’s expression as of right now, but he could just tell by her body language that she had absolutely no clue. The older rubbed the back of her neck, shrugging, “Psh…uh, I dunno…guns…?”

Donnie paused for a moment, trying his best to cover up his laugh with a cough. The younger wiped a happy tear from his eye before fixing his posture, putting the computer to the side of him. “I’m sorry…guns? April, how can you poison a GUN?” He asked, trying to understand the logic behind his eldest sibling’s answer.

April groaned, “Dude I just said I didn’t know! It was the 1600’s or something! Who’s to say they DIDN’T poison guns?!”

The softshell’s left eye twitched, “WWI takes place in the 1800’s…”

The chocolate brown eyed teen turned around to her brother slightly, “Are you sure about that?” (John Cena reference goes crazy…)

“YES!!!”

“Alright alright! Jeez…no need to shout. Heard you loud and clear, Houston.” She mumbled, resting her cheek on her palm because…

Houston, she definitely had a problem.

Her Civil War test was in two freaking days and she barely even knew what century it took place in. She was screwed. She was the definition of the word screwed.

And anyways, tenth grade sucked major ass anyway. Flunking one History class wouldn’t be so bad. But April knew damn well Donnie, along with Raph, Leo, Mikey, Splinter, her Mom and literally everyone else in here life would not let her even touch an ounce of flunking.

She sighed, “…How is this supposed to be helping me again? Because this is literally the same tactic we’ve been doing but instead I’m facing away from you.”

The young genuis hummed knowingly, looking at the computer screen behind him, “You got the question I asked wrong, correct?”

“I…mean, yeah. Why are you askiEEEEK—!” The girl shreiked, hugging her middles as her younger sibling randomly poked her in the ribs. She turned her head around once more, glaring at the taller teen, “Donnie…what the actual fuck?” She seethed.

Which, in retrospect, that tone would’ve had the young genuis running for the hills any day…but today was not that day.

“Okay…so here’s what we’re gonna do, sis.” The younger one grinned cheekily, “I’ll ask you Civil War questions from the flashcards. If you get a question right, nothing happens. But if you get a question wrong I’ll have to tickle you.” He finished like it was the most casual sentence to say.

“How is that fair?” April huffed.

“This studying tactic helps you with you’re current mood AND helps you study more. It’s pretty fair if you ask me.” The softshell snickered.

“I hope you get run over by a car when you’re heading back to the lair…” The eldest grumbled, turning back around to face away from the taller teen.

The other barked out a laugh, finding this whole situation completely and utterly hilarious. “Love you too, Riri.” He smiled, “Now! Shall we get started~?”

“Do I even have a choice at this point…?”

“No…not really!” The purple banded turtle shrugged, going onto the computer to pull up a question. April giggled slightly, trying to stifle her laughs by covering her mouth. Donnie snickered at the adorable sight, poking his sister’s side, “I haven’t even tickled you yet and you’re already giggling up a storm…I wonder why that is…”

“Shuhut uhup yohou Megaha-mihihind looking thing...” The smaller teen grumbled, swatting at the other’s hands as he merely chuckled, “Alright…in what year did the Civil War begin?” He asked.

The glasses wielding teenager thought a bit, “Well…you said earlier tonight it was started in, like, the 1800's…”

“Mhm. So what year?”

“Like…1855…?” She guessed, which resulted in Donnie carrying out his promise as he to tickle her underarms. The older let out an inhuman shriek, clamping her arms down as she kicked her feet on the carpet, “DOHONNIE!!” She shouted through her laughs.

“Hm? What’s up? You need something April?”

“STAHAHAP IHIT!” The smaller teen cried out, squirming back and forth. The softshell rolled his eyes fondly, “You’re just a couple years off. C'mon, just guess.”

“1843?!”

“Higher…” Donnie commented as he scribbled his nails on the sides of her neck. The human girl shrieked, scrunching her shoulders as her back fell against the turtle’s plastron, “1865!!!”

“Lower…that’s when it ended. But you’re still super close.” The mutant stated, moving his fingers down to tickle at her sides. April shook her head hugging her middles as she banged the balls of her feet harder on the floor, “1864???”

“Lower…” The turtle said as he gave one quick squeeze to her hips. The girl jolted, letting out a loud, hilarious and genuine scream as she laughed, “1861!!! IHIHIT’S 1861!!! DAHAHAMMIT *squeal* STAHAH—!!” The human teen covered her mouth in surprise, blushing profusely at the noise she just let out.

The mutant couldn’t help but giggle in amusement, happy and somewhat shocked at the noise that escaped his sibling’s mouth, “Awe~! Okay, now that was straight up adorable.”

“ShuHUT UHUP.” The girl threatened, still hugging her middles which Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle to. “I do not know why you are so hostile towards me. My tactic is helping you!”

“Lihihike hehehell ihit ihihihis…” April grumbled. The young genius raised an amused brow, crossing his arms, “When did the Civil War start?”

“…1861…” She mumbled.

“And when did it end?”

“…1865…”

Fucking smartass…

“Point taken…” April huffed as she glared to the side, crossing her arms as the taller teen pulled up another question, “Alrighty then. What fort did Confederate General P.G.T Beauregard fire on to officially start the Civil War?”

The girl blinked, “…What fort? Like…a pillow fort?” The turtle jabbed her in the side, resulting in a loud squeal from his sister. “IHI’M BEING SERIOUS, YOHOU ASS!”

Donnie feigned a fake gasp, wrapping one arm around April’s chest, keeping her arms in place as the other hand worked its way down and tickled all over her stomach.

The eldest let out an ear piercing scream, kicking her legs on the floor even harder. “I’ll ask again: What fort did Confederate General P.G.T Beauregard fire on to start the Civil War?”

“IHI— *squeak* DAHA— *hic* FUHUCKIN DAHAHAMMIT!!!”

“Mmm…nope. That’s not it~!”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!”

“I’m barely even touching you!” Donnie scoffed, “To think what would happen if I—”

“FAHAH— *hic* FAHAHA— *squeal* FOHORT SUHUHUMTER!!! IHIHI— *hic* DOHOHON!!!” And just like that, the taller teen stopped yet again as he scrolled on his computer. “Cahan Ihi gehehet breaks at leheheast?” April giggled out. Donnie chuckled at the question, “This right now is your break. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Oh God up above that little walking talking green beanstalk will be in a world of hurt after all of this was over…

The purple banded turtle released April from his embrace, “This is an easy one. Who was elected—”

“LIHINCOLN! ABRAHAM LINCOLN!!!” The girl shouted immediately, letting out a huge wave of relief wash through her…that lasted, like, a good second and a half before she felt fingers poking her in the back, causing her to flinch involuntarily. “IHI ANSWERED COHORRECT, YOHOU FOHOHOUR EYED FREEHEEK!”

Donnie let out a satisfied huff, resuming to scribble at the elder’s underarms, “Well first things first: Your wearing glasses right now. So I don’t even know why your setting yourself up—” April squirmed so frantically that her glasses fell off of her face. The softshell turtle couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden action that played in front of him, “I stand corrected.”

The girl wheezed softly, a small tinted blush spreading on her face, “YOHOU— *squeak* THIHIS IHIHIS CHEATING!!”

“Hohow is this cheating?” Donnie asked innocently, tickling the other’s underarms harder.

“NAHA— *hic* IHI GOHOHOT IHIT *hic* RIHIHIGHT!!!”

“Oh. My apologies then.” The taller teen said, chuckling as the other in front of him grumbled curses and threats here and there. “Okay…what was the CSS Hunley?”

“…Thehe whahahat…?”

“I talked about this several times…” The turtle mused, his finger inching excruciatingly close to April’s hips. The eldest held onto her little brother’s wrists, shaking her head back and forth as loud cackles echoed around the room, “IHI REHEALLY *hic* *hic* DUHUHUNO! DOHOHON *squeal* PLEHEASE *hic*!!!”

“Oho don’t you even. You should have been listening to me when I was explaining this to you!”

“IHI WAHAS IHI *hic* WAHAHAS!!!”

The softshell chuckled at the retort, tasing April in the side causing her to let out a goblin-like shriek. “Wohoah…I’ve never hear that noise before…” The smaller teen wheezed out a tired laugh, slumping against her brother’s plastron.

Maybe instead of just flunking this test she could just simply pass way right here right now. The younger rested his chin on April’s shoulder, giving her a knowing look. She gulped in giddy panic, small giggles escaping her mouth once again.

He wouldn’t. He would never…oh, who is April kidding?! Of course that windshield wiper look-a-like would…

“We’ll skip this one. The answer was a submarine. We literally listened to Yellow Submarine by The Beatles to help you get the jist of it…” The softshell sighed knowingly, “This is an easy one…”

“Whose military genius and personality is often credited with holding the Confederate Army together?” The softshell asked, wiggling his fingers near April’s sides in an anticipatory manner.

“STAHAP DOING THAHAT!!!” April yelled. “I’m not doing anything! You’re going to get it wrong anyway so I’m just participating in the inevitable.” The young genius said, putting his hands in his lap and smiling down on his computer. More nervoud giggles escaped the other’s mouth, wanting to absolutely punt her little brother right here and right now.

Because believe it or not, she did actually know the answer to this question…since the answer was that dumb Robert E. Lee guy.

And worst of all, Donnie knows she knows the answer to the question. He just wants to be a little shit.

“Times up, O’Neil~!”

“WHAHAT!?!? YOHOU NEHEVER *squeal* SAHAHAID IHI *squeal* WAHAS TIHIMED!!!” The eldest squealed.

“Well I did just now, didn’t I?” The younger one teased, pinching the spot where April’s side met her hips. “OHO YOHOHOU— *squeak* FUHUHUCKIN SHIHIHIT!!! MY *hic* GOHOD! NAHAT *hic* THEHERE!!!”

“Aw but why not~? Is riiiight here better~?” The purple banded turtle asked innocently, tickling his sister’s hips mercilessly. The girl lurched her back up out in hopes that she could at least buck Donnie off of her, but the younger turtle only smiled and continued his attack as he drilled his fingers into his sister’s hips.

April screeched, “DEEHEE!!! YOHOU LIHITTLE SHIHA— *hic* NAHAT *squeal* THEHE HIHI- *hic* PLEHEHEASE!!!”

“D'aww~! Is my tough big sister too ticklish for this~? I think she is~!” Donnie teased. “STAHAP STAHAP!! YOHOU *squeal* GEHET *hic* OHOHOFF OHOF *hic* MEEHEE!!!”

“Oho my banana pancakes…I forgot how ticklish you are despite your usual tough teen demeanor…” 

April screamed in laughter, “DOHOHONNIE!!!”

“Yes, my beloved older sister whom I love dearly?”

“STAHAHAP *hic* IHIT NOHOHOW!!!”

“Then what’s the answer~? I know you know it~!”

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAY!!! THAHAT RAHA— *squeak* THEHE ROHOBERT *hic* GUHUHUY!!! DEEHEE COHOME OHOHON!!” The girl laughed, happy tears welling up in her eyes slightly. The taller teen stopped, letting the other slump against him as she giggled tiredly. “So~! Based on everything we’ve gone over tonight…could you give me a quick little summary on what we went over?”

April rolled her eyes, adjusting herself so she was facing her little brother again. The softshell grabbed a Sprite from April’s mini fridge at the bottom of her bed, tossing her one of the soda’s.

The elder teenager basically chugged the drink, putting the empty can to the side, pondering her answer a little bit before saying, “The Cihivil Wahar staharted in…like, 1861 and ended in 1865. Basically, Confederate troops fihired on Fohort Sumter— which ihihis in Charleston Haharbor. Sohouth Carolina could nohot put uhuhup with a federal fohort blohohocking aha sea port—” The teen paused, looking at her brother in pure shock as the other just smiled back at her.

“…Holy fucking shit. I sound like yohou explaining sohohome gadget ohor something.” The girl chuckled out. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” The purple cladded turtle said, crossing his arms amusingly.

April chuckled at the gesture, resting her cheek on her palm again, “Yeheah…I guess. Thanks fohor the help, Deehee…”

“Anything for my big sis!” The softshell smiled, turning to close his computer. “We should do these study sessions more often! It helped you know more about your topic and it helped you with your current mood.” He grinned teasingly.

“You’re out of your damn mind.” The eldest glared, crossing her arms as she scoffed at the offer. But the younger did 100% take notice that she didn’t deny the suggestion by any means.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[edwinisms]

so damn close to finishing writing my first fic for this show but my head feels like it’s gonna explode from writing an entire 3.3K theoretical analysis paper for like five hours straight and if I look at my computer screen much longer I might just fucking die so. here we are. suffering.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

6k in and my head is about to explode. STILL not allowed to say what i want :(

[vincess-princess]

as we were falling: masterpost

should have made it a long time ago, i just thought there was no demand for it

Summary: The coreworld sparkles and shines in its skyscrapered glory, the midworld smothers its planets in industrial smoke, and the edgeworld fights tooth and nail against the inevitable human expansion. All of that rests on the shoulders of 'unpaid workforce' - or, more commonly, slaves, the resource now most in demand. Tommy and Nikki, just recently enslaved, now have to navigate the complicated hierarchy of the new age society - the society that doesn't tolerate slaves with opinions and ambitions of their own. Word count: 14k Warnings: slavery, violence, invasive medical practices, imprisonment and the like. Will be updated along the way.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

[waterfallofspace]

OMG I love tma so much

You posted about suggestions so sorry if this is rude but do you have any Martin ideas cookin?

We love a good pathetic man

Not rude at all! I actually do!~ Two at the moment, he's not really one of my main snz bois, (don't get me wrong, I adore him, but more in a character sense than a snz context one, he's one of my lil squishes that I just adore <3) but I do currently have a few floating around~

An allergy one that I've started, but not quite finished, and one more featuring sickness that I have a vague idea for.

If there's anything you'd wanna see more specifically, feel free to shoot me a prompt/request! I don't go through them super fast, but I do intend to get to each one I receive, at least for as long as the crippling t/ma brainrot lasts <3

Thank you so much for the message!!~ We do love a good pathetic man <3

[orcelito]

FANTASTIC NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i finished & posted the ITNL 14 re-edits, WHICH MEANS!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm officially done with my re-edits project!!!!!!!!!! :D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ive been thinking a lot today about my plans for ITNL 15, AND i have tomorrow off, so if all goes well i'll be able to start writing again. TOMORROW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and if the chapter grips me like i expect it will then... hehehehehe

could be an update in as little as a few days, depending. i'll keep u guys updated

[sophieswundergarten]

So. Everyone who yelled at me yesterday for making a ramble on Reynie going blank and then not resolving it, this is for you: (@lemondropletters, you have been tagged)

Also, it's in a Google Doc because it was definitely too long for a Tumblr post, and ~~I don't know how AO3 works~~

The (vague) premise is that, instead of Constance seeing Curtain's broadcast, they all get to the compound mentally sound, but once there, they split up to look for Mr. Benedict, and instead Reynie finds Curtain. This is the wrap up of what would have happened in the last episode.

[yaekiss]

[throwing all my kinktober prep behind me]

GAH my bad the wanderer fic took forever... hit the worst mood flop + writing burn out BUT I hope you guys enjoyed the fics IEBFKJBWEK and tq for sticking around ^^

OH ALSO if you guys ever want to see all the lore or the prep/lil notes I leave for myself for these fics lmk! Always fun sharing progress stuff,,,

(I can tell you what fics the other poll choices were meant for too if you'd like :3c)

[musicalmoritz]

I want to make it very clear that I do not have writers block, the only reason I haven’t finished that Aoinene fic yet is bcuz I’m lazy af. And because my sister keeps asking to hang out every time I sit down to work on it and I can’t break the sacred bond of sibling time🍎