#IM NOT TIRED AFTER WRITING THIS

[madelineserenity]

Reaper Nurse Christmas Prompt Countdown | Day 1: Mariah

(This one is with a reader in a polygamous relationship with the nurses. As Christmas is a time for family, I'll be writing some with a child, girlfriend/wife/fiancée, etc. reader. Play Peer Gynt in the background for best effect)

Birds flew playfully in the morning sky.

Insects bathed happily in the cool dew that dripped from leaves and made spider webs glow like the sun.

The sunlight shone gently through your curtains as the breeze tickled them awake.

The entire hospital was bathed in the morning light.

You drowsily sit up and stretch your arms up, straining until you hear a small pop in your shoulder. Even though the day was so calm and peaceful, and you were more than willing to lay back into your soft and squishy pillows, it was too beautiful a day to be wasted. You pulled out the little yoga mat tucked into one of your little box shelves, before rolling it out on the cool marble floor. You pulled yourself into an upward-facing-dog position, hearing another loud pop in your back. The nurses had given you your yoga mat after learning you had trouble waking up in the morning. You used to need two or three prompts from the nurses to get out of bed for breakfast, and even then, you'd be lethargic and rather quite grumpy. Now, you felt like you had so much energy and you felt ready to take on the world in the mornings.

As you shifted positions, lying on your side, and pulling your right leg up to your back, you wondered what lovely breakfast they'd organised for you today. The nurses loved to spoil you, even if some of them were... a little wild, to say the least.

That was when you were startled to hear the sound of an upcoming announcement. What could it possibly be at this time of day?

(turn off your Peer Gynt, it all goes downhill from here, folks.)

🎵 I 🎵

A song? Just as it started, your phone's morning alarm began to chime, lighting up its screen.

7:45 AM 1st Dec

🎵 Don't want a lot for Christmas... 🎵

No. No no no no NO. You immediately flung yourself up, almost tripping as your mat shifted under the sudden movement. You threw open your closet and pulled on your baby blue dressing gown, pulled your door open and ran into the halls.

🎵 There is just one thing I need... 🎵

There was nobody around. Your room was on the fourth floor, far away from the soul shards, and thus, away from any men who could take advantage of your mortality, who could kill you to get you out of their way...

🎵 I don't care about the presents... 🎵

The nurses were probably downstairs, definitely very confused as well. They knew you would prefer to have the freedom to wake up and come down by yourself, they coddled you so often it was the least they could do. Right now though, you wished there was a nurse around. They knew where the PA room was and turn that bloody song off. You had been able to keep the memelord nurses from playing it yesterday, "It's not even December!", but what could you do now!?

🎵 ...underneath the Christmas tree... 🎵

A door opened behind you.

🎵 I just want you for my own... 🎵

"...Who's there? I know one of you jackasses is there. Can y'all stop cloaking and trying to give me an aneurysm?"

🎵 More than you could ever know... 🎵

She appeared.

You could see under her bag, she was smirking.

🎵 Make my wish come true... 🎵

It was Caroline, a professional shitposter and absolute anarchist.

"Merry Christmas, love. I bought a little padlock Matron wasn't aware of - attached it to the public address system room door -"

"YOU DID THIS?!"

🎵 All I want for Christmas is.... 🎵

"Mhm! And here," she pulled a shiny, new key out of her pocket. "is the only key to it!" She skated to the side of the hall and unlocked the window, but before you could get to her, she'd skated away from you - backwards, just to be a show-off - chuckling.

As you tried to grab it, she tossed it out of the window, down four levels, directly into a massive bush of thorny roses, just as the

🎵 You 🎵

rang through the halls.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, frightening the life... death? out of the nurses below, who immediately panicked and skated like hell to the elevators, some couldn't bear to wait for the lifts while you were in danger, so they ripped their skates off and started gunning it up the long, painful flights of stairs.

This was going to be hell...

[ganondoodle]

(OC Lore and design time!)

(it got longer again ... sorry ... idk how to make things short, i just need to talk, but i guess if you can read the written stuff in the pic thats the barest bare bones of what i wrote here)

i was asked what new lore story stuff i had thought about that made me sad which i mentioned a bit ago, and while that is too hard to explain given all the missing context i thought i could at least talk about lore having to do with it :D

so, (Lord) Eadrya is one of my fav OCs (big blue lad, here a rough sketch in humanoid form) they are both one of if not THE most powerful demon alive and the most battle trained;

at the mid point of the story the demon world gets invaded by the celestials (the angel inspired things i talked about in the previous lore post with Xaror) and Shargon, as the king, should be their first and only frontline, but at this point his life is only being sustained by maschinery after being mortally wounded, he cannot fight (he realizes what is going on, rips himself off the maschinery to get at least his youngest child to safety, barely managing it before dying- the guardian, the demons god, takes over his body to attempt to fight against the celestials but cant keep itself alive long enough since its host is already dead) Eadrya takes the role of the frontline fighter (despite being very full of themselves and aggressive they care about their 'job' of protecting their own, also giving them the chance to show off just how strong they are); the fight was going well for them all things considered, but when the guardian activates it drains the power of all elemental lords (which Eadrya is one of, and since they have the most strength it also takes the most from them), so much so that they lose the fight and suffer deadly wounds (the worst being a spear through the chest made of a material that grows hard, root-like formations when in contact with demonic blood like a fungus but worse, also stopping any self healing processes) after the guardian falls apart it creates a huge shockwave of energy that stuns every living thing within a certain distance and possibly more-

Eadrya (in true demon form, so like a blue whale in size at least) was likely taken through an active gateway to the human world in a large tidal wave also created by the guardians fall; they wash up in the harbor of a small secluded village, the head of which is 'lady 13'; although never having seen a demon before and everyone being afraid (largely thinking its a strange hurt animal, only she suspected otherwise), they still gather all villagers to pull out the celestial spear, which is diffcult and brutal given that its already taken root, but the village lacked both knowledge and means to help any other way- doing so damaged their heart which is how they were able to collect samples of all three demonic blood types ('normal' -red like humans-, energy -essentially purely magic- and heartblood -highly concentrated energy only found within the heart of a demon and the only one to contain genetic material) (this is the start of Eadryas character arc, having to deal with the fact that their world is likely destroyed, them failing what they didnt think they could fail, having lost a battle so badly (even if not really their fault) for the first time and not knowing if literally anyone else has survived .. also being now stuck in the human world, which they dont like)

Lady 13 (placeholder name? stands for experiment 13) is a human that was tricked by demon hunters to enroll into a series of experiments trying to create hybrids of demons and humans, which they hoped would be powerful and easily controllable tools for their endeavours, though the two are inherently not compatible, they tried grafting body parts of demons on humans to make them compatible- all experiments failed except for her, more or less, though she never got to see the hybrid she carried and was then told it had died too, they threw her out believing she wouldnt survive much longer either and all such experiments were cancelled due to the high cost of human life, research material (demons are still rare) and upkeep with no successful results Lady 13 survived though (perhaps even via the pirates picking her up?) and she ended up living in said small village far away, hiding her half demonic body, though most know there soemthing 'wrong' with her (her being this tall when it doesnt fit the rest for one), only few know the full extent; she enjoys the life she has now, perhaps on the more poor side but safer and more loved than ever before; she largely lead the efforts to try and help Eadrya when they ended up in the harbor, though there wasnt that much anyone could do it was still enough- they leave immediately after waking up, but return after really having nowhere to go and struggling to deal with everything that has happened; over time (probably years) they start to open up towards the people there (though not .. very much) enough to get rather close with Lady 13 too- she actually falls madly in love but after Eadrya (extremely aro/ace) rejects all her attempts quite clearly she respects their boundaries

However, after hearing news of potential demon sightings Eadrya decides to leave in hopes of not being the last demon left after all; Lady 13 then decides to reveal her secret to them (though hearing and seeing what lengths hunters would go to for their experiments makes them absolutely seething with rage- she insists on not being out for revenge) and asks if they would be willing to donate a small amount of heartblood; shes always wanted to be a mother but is now incompatible with humans too- through things she picked up back at the experiments facillity, hers and her doctors research she is sure that is all that is needed, she dares to ask since she does not know when, if ever, she will meet another demon, much less one she could actually trust enough for this though Eadrya hesitates (why would she want to go through the same thing again that didnt work and threatened her life, if it does work, do they want to be involved with any of this? what if hunters find out it worked after all?) but after her ensuring that they would have no part in it other than giving up a little blood and would not be considered a parent in any way, nor made responsible for anything that might happen to her, but considering it all in the end they agree to it

only for her to reveal shes had a small bottle of it already, along with multiple samples of the other types, which she collected when Eadrya was bleeding out into the harbor not knowing if they will survive, though not wanting to make use of it without their consent either way (they are actuallly rather touched by this)

alot later the main group returns here and it turns out to have worked (though she is unable to walk/bedridden for a long while bc it did alot of damage to her body, which can heal since its demons parts, but only really slowly bc she does not have a full functioning system and no demonic blood of her own -she uses the other samples for the healing process-) though its a little awkward to explain, especially considering that 13.1 took alot after Eadrya xD (their theory as to why it worked so "well" that time is that even though the sample was already taken, them giving their consent for it still made it less likely to be rejected; demons dont need partners to have offspring, and all can do it, they just have to decide to- so them agreeing to it, even though its long been outside their body, still had an effect on the blood sample)

[lemongogo]

they should get to kill each other at least twice .i think

[fandomrose]

Sunday - Love Hypnosis

Sunday hypnotises you (consensually) to relax you.

No spoilers.

No description of reader or readers troubles so project what you are personally struggling with as you see fit.

No angst just fluff. I thought this concept would be cute. I've seen many a yandere Sunday hypnotises you, and that's great but consider - consent and fluff.

(This isn't a jab, I too enjoy a yandere fic from time to time but I also want to see fluff and I haven't seen this done in a fluffy way yet.)

I don't know why I'm mildly obsessed with this man but I am. (Cough Cough, I read maximum ride as a kid and now I automatically fall in love with winged characters. Cough Cough.) I need him to hypnotise me please and thank you.

(I have a few fics in the works that I need to finish but I'm struggling.)

As usual enjoy. Love ya 💙

"Darling?" Came the light and airy tone of your beloved. Though there was a hint of worry in his voice as he took in your face down, slumped form. "Are you alright?"

He could tell very well that you were not alright. But he would coax an answer out of you one way or another. Though the only answer he received was a groan.

"Darling." He sighs but chuckles at your obviously aggravated self. "Allow me to help you." 

Your body goes limp as you let him move you from a sofa to your shared bed. "My darling. Tell me what's gotten into you."

He chuckles as you groan out a single word relating to your issues. "Life."

"Oh, my darling. You'll let me soothe you for the night won't you?" He only felt it was right after the many nights you had soothed him. 

Patient, kind, understanding. Three words that when asked by others what you think about each other, you'd both say about each other. A pure give and take without a scoreboard, that's how you operated. You were both busy or stressed for one reason or another so that's how things had to be.

The simple love you shared was enough most days but sometimes things went wrong.

Sunday had performed hypnosis on you before so he knew it worked but he'd never engage unless you agreed. You knew the question he asked meant he wanted to soothe you via hypnosis, and with the state of your mind you would happily agree. 

"Please do." 

He wouldn't offer if he didn't have the energy you knew this, a rather large argument took care of that when he'd overworked himself then passed out after hypnotising you once and a medic had to be rushed in. Needless to say, you weren't happy with his carelessness. And seeing how upset you were he agreed to be more careful with his health.

You didn't want to think anymore so as you lay there looking up at him with your tired eyes and weary mind, he smiles. He caresses your face and hair before taking a deep breath and reciting that familiar chant.

"Oh triple faced soul, allow me to take hold of this one's mind and soothe them of all worries and burdens. The word Beloved will be the catalyst for control."

With that simple incantation your mind belonged to Sunday for a short while. Your mind felt fuzzy and slow but not unpleasantly, the way it would when you achieved complete relaxation. 

Like he had done before, he would take you through your nightly routine with this hypnosis.

"Beloved, follow me to to the bathroom." He helped you up while your body automatically followed his words and stood up. 

Walking was about the most complex task you could complete, he wasn't Xipe Themself, so his power only went so far. 

"Beloved, lift your arms." 

You do as told and he aids in stripping you, ready to be cleaned. 

"Beloved, sit on this stool and close your eyes." 

You again do as told his voice muffled through the layers of hypnosis, but soothing nonetheless. "I am going to wash your face first darling." He always narrates what he does before doing it as not to startle you.

You felt a cool, wet, cloth glide over your face and you can't help but sigh with satisfaction. You feel it gently caress your cheeks and softly rub your eyes tickle behind your ears. You hear the cloth being rinsed and wrung, the muffled sounds of the water soothing you further.

"I am going to wash your upper body now darling." And, as before, you feel the damp cloth glide over your neck and upper body, letting him move you has he sees fit. Soft humming coming from him lulls you deeper into his hypnosis. The cloth glides down and caresses your chest before moving to wash your back. You'd make sounds of relaxed satisfaction if you could but your exhausted body coupled with the hypnosis has made your brain devoid of any thought or control. Just how you want it. 

He moves back to the front of you with a new cloth. "Beloved, spread your legs, I need to clean you." 

Your body complies without hesitation and that's what he does, making sure to be extra gentle around this sensitive area. He is thorough but doesn't linger long this time, not wanting to spark anything in you this evening.

Standing to switch the cloth again, "I'm going to wash your legs and feet now darling." Still being as gentle as ever his hands and the cloth slowly makes their way down your legs massaging them as they go. A light massage is given to your feet as well before he finishes and pats you dry with a towel before he deems your body clean.

"Beloved, open your mouth wide." 

He orders next, your mind too fuzzy to think of what else could be doing. You hear more water then feel a hand on your chin. "I'm going to brush your teeth darling." Then light scrubbing of your teeth and tongue can be felt, he is thorough with this area too. Not wanting to be the reason you have cavities he takes his time. Not too long later he finishes with you. You can hear things being put away and muffled sounds of him walking around you, maybe inspecting you. Before he stops in front and, 

"Beloved, open your eyes and stand up. Its time to go to bed."

You're led back into the bedroom now that he is satisfied that you are clean. "Beloved, are you ready to sleep?" 

Compelled to answer, you do. "yes"

"Beloved, do you want to sleep with me?"

"Yes"

"Good, let's get to sleep then shall we." 

The sounds of fabric and draws is all you hear for a moment before he guides you into bed with him. 

"Beloved, lay down." 

When he's satisfied you are comfortable You feel his soft skin against yours, the wings on his head lightly brushing your face in reverence before he pulls them back. It isn't often he blesses you with his naked body, the vulnerability gets to him at times. 

Once you've laid down and he's pulled you close he asked one more question.

"Beloved, are you ready to be released from hypnosis?"

"Yes"

As the words leave your lips he begins the incantation to remove his influence on your mind. 

"Oh triple faced soul, this one has completed this ones tasks and can now be freed from the shackles of my control with no burden."

Everything goes still as your senses return slowly, reacclimating you to reality. A few minutes pass of him softly stroking your head and neck while you come back to him.

"Thank you Sunday" a soft whisper conveying how grateful you are before you promptly pass out the exhaustion and relaxation hitting you full force as you melt into the bed and his arms.

"Oh my beloved, I'd do anything to see you happy and relaxed like this more often. I am grateful for all you do for me so it's only natural. I love you, so much my beloved."

He whispers to your sleeping self, pressing small kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose. Watching the small twitches at the contact makes his evening and he feels like he too can finally relax.

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.��

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

[purpleshadow-star]

Imagine if Nico could learn to control when he turns into shadows.

Like, in The Blood of Olympus Nico would start fading after shadow traveling too much, and sometimes Reyna and Coach Hedge wouldn't be able to touch him, and one time he even accidentally walked through a tree. Imagine if he learned to control that intangibility.

Imagine if he could just turn parts of his body into shadows. Imagine if, in a fight, someone swings at him, and he knows he can't dodge in time, so he turns into shadows for a second so the weapon goes right through him, and while his enemy is confused he uses the distraction to land the final blow.

Imagine if he could just walk/reach through walls and doors and stuff.

I just think that, for someone with the title of ghost king (and as a child of the Underworld), he deserves more ghost-like powers.

[raineandsky]

#134

The scene the hero arrives to is nothing to brag about—a dumpster set alight, some of its flaming rubbish fluttering about harmlessly. The superhero sent them here on the basis of a villain, though, so they’re going to figure out who set fire to this thing if it’s the last thing they do.

No one seems to be around. Maybe this is one of those startup villains, the ones who want a taste of the criminal life but are too afraid to plunge in the deep end. An easy catch, the hero thinks. Simply wait for a slip-up and throw the sucker in jail.

The hero approaches the literal dumpster fire with the intention of looking for clues. What they don’t expect is for the criminal to leap out at them. They grapple for the hero with a vicious snarl and the hero reacts instinctively, whipping their arm out to dislodge them before throwing them down to the ground.

The criminal rolls away, making an attempt at what is probably a bound back to their feet and failing. A heartfelt, “ow,” leaks out as they carefully pick themself off the pavement.

They’re young, the hero can see that. Black clothes—something of a homemade villain’s outfit. A child who’s gotten a flare for rebellion and wanted to live a little. The hero was never one for inspirational talks, but if they can stop a villain in the making, they might as well try.

“I get the impression you’ve a taste for the low life,” they start carefully, “but this isn’t the way to go. Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of the villainous lifestyle and it isn’t the a good—”

The hero’s words trail off as the kid looks up at them with a scowl. She nudges long hair out of her face, brushing dirt off the shirt the hero has almost definitely seen before. The superhero sent them out for a villain, not for this. Is this a test? Is the superhero mad?

The hero isn’t good with kids as it is, let alone their boss’s daughter.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” the hero snaps. There’s a villain around—it’s dangerous.”

“Damn right it is.” The kid wipes her nose on her sleeve, putting her fists up like she’s genuinely considering a fight. “Wanna guess who the villain is?”

She tries to rush the hero, and it’s here that they realise, ah, she is considering a fight. They sidestep her swing and, as carefully as an attack will allow, toss her on the ground again.

“Does your dad know you’re doing this?” the hero asks sharply.

“He will soon enough,” she spits.

She moves in for another strike. Where she’s aiming for the hero will never guess, but they bat her hand away easily and push her back. “Stop,” they demand bluntly. “You’re going to hurt yourself or, god forbid, someone else.”

“Isn’t that what being a villain is?” The kid laughs, and the hero hates how much it sounds like her father. “Being evil and ruining everything? I thought I was already good at that!”

She leaps in for another punch. The hero, already distracted, doesn’t dodge in time and her fist smashes into their chest.

The hero doesn’t move. The kid’s start of a victorious laugh dies down and she pulls her hand away.

“I hit you,” she points out coldly. “You’re meant to on the floor or something now.”

“You’re good at being evil and ruining everything?”

The kid’s annoyance gets replaced by what the hero can see from a mile away is carefully crafted indifference. “Sure,” she says shortly. “That’s why I thought maybe I’d fit in better here. And I do.”

The hero stares at her for a moment. She raises her fist, but the hero holds a hand up to her and she miraculously listens.

“I’m sorry,” the hero says, although they’re not sure what they’re apologising for. “I’m not fighting you. Go home.”

“You’re a hero!” the kid cries as the hero starts looking for a way to dampen the fire now devouring the poor dumpster. “Act like it!”

“Go home,” they repeat a little sharper, “and stay there. I’ll speak to your dad.”

“He’s meant to find out about this himself,” she snaps.

The hero finds a fire extinguisher, mysteriously tucked under one of the other dumpsters. The kid is pointedly not looking at them when they pull it out. “Don't you worry. I’m not telling him about this. I think he and I need a little chat, that’s all.”

The kid has nothing to say to that. She stamps her foot and huffs momentarily, and then she’s off, abandoning the hero with the physical and metaphorical fire.

[lighthouseshepard]

chapter 13 yipee

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 786: Acceleration at full throttle!!

Pag 1

2: Now

3: Do I go?

4: Soon

How's your condition, Manami?

Mhh, if I had to say

5: I'm in perfect condition

Pag 2

1: Hakogaku's Manami went ahead for the first day's mountain!!

Pag 3

1: Seriously!? What's with that speed!?

He took advantage of the right curve where the group was stretched out!!

He accelerated in an instant!!

2: He's really gonna climb!? The Sky Prince!?

Does gravity not work on him only!?

Pag 4

1: Soo

That guy is so fast!

Waa is he so light!?

2: reeee

3: He suddenly got away!! Dammit!! Chase him!! Go!!

No, there's no one who'll be able to chase after him!!

Pag 5

3: Except for the Mountain King!!

4: Hakogaku number 13 jumped ahead, teh!!

Pag 6

1: I'm going to accelerate at full throttle!!

2: Onoda!!

3: Onoda-san!!

4: Onoda-san!!

Pag 7

1: Onoda-san's cadence is going up!!

5: Onoda-kun!!

Pag 8

1: Go with all your might!! Will-power injection!!

Pag 9

1: Okay!! Thank you, Naruko-kun!!

Pag 10

1: I'm going!!

Pag 11

1: Aaaaaaagh

Pag 12

1: Mountain King went ahead!!

He's so fast, what's with that speed!!

With his cadence I can't see his legs!!

2: Everyone, really, thank you so much for sending me out

3: I got this at the supply point earlier, a cold bottle of water!!

4: Leave him gaping this time!!

I'll use the old one

Okay!! Thank you!!

Pag 13

1: He's so fast!!

2: Run with all your heart

4: Don't worry about what happens behind

Pag 14

1: Imaizumi-kun, Naruko-kun, Danchiku-kun, Kaburagi-kun, Rokudai-kun – everyone pushed my back...

3: It's the Mountain King!!

Just now Hakone Academy passed... is he chasing him!?

It's Sohoku's Onoda!!

His legs' rotation is incredible!

They're both so fast!!

4: Mountain King chasing Manami...!?

Pag 15

1: It's intense!!

2: Oi, those two just now!!

That's right, they're last year's finalists!!

And the finalists of the year before too!!

3: Seriously... they're already... going out now...!?

For the “mountain” of the first day of the Inter High, those two....!!

Pag 16

1: It's a destined battle!!

Pag 17

3: I got scared....

4: Suddenly Hakogaku got here... and it's Manami, too!!

I got scared, but then he stopped accelerating...!?

5: Wahahaha Manami Sangaku isn't worth fearing!!

Pag 18

1: I was on alert because he caught up with me at lightning speed but then he quickly lost pace!!

That means he worked too hard and reached his limit!!

2: Coming here on your own was a mistake, Manami Sangaku!! Wahahaha

I'm IitsukaYorimasa from the prestigious Fukuoka Josei!! Climber!!

3: I thought about it!! And my nickname will be “mountain shogun”!!

Pag 19

1: And this mountain will be my home, my “castle”

Manami, today I'll get your “neck”!!

2: Sorry but could you please be quiet?

3: I'm listening

To the sound of cheering, and the swaying of trees, and the chirping of the cicadas

5: And mixed with all of this, I'm listening

6: to the sound of wheels

Pag 20

1: Wahahaha, wheels!? The sound of wheels!?

I don't hear it, I don't hear such a thing!! That would mean that there's someone else who's catching up!? Someone like that...

2: No way, wahahaha

4: I hear it

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Heyyy, hope your doing well.

Is it ok if I request switch!april switch!mikey and lee!donnie.April is spending time with mIkey while painting a mural somewhere... and they get into a tickle fight in which donnie gets dragged in.. If that's cool with you :D

~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚝 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘!!! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 😌🫶🏾…𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 👏🏾💗💖💓💘˚*•✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟷𝟺𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 

𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💚 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝! 𝚂𝚘, 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙶𝚂𝚂𝚂: @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow @aceofspades-doodles

@ziipzeepzop-eez @someone1348 @rice-cake-teen10

@savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee @mistyandsnow @tmntstayheadforever

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚑 >:]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾‼️˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Pfft…Mikey you actually suck at this…” April said, stifling a giggle as she glided a paintbrush up and down her little brother’s shell. 

The smaller teen shrieked at the sudden contact, his giggles bouncing off his room’s walls, “R-Riri plehehease…!” The youngest giggled, squirming slightly as he dug his feet into the carpet. 

“Just say a word!” The elder said, “Literally any word that reminds you of this feeling!” 

“Ihihi daha— squeak dohon’t knohohow!!” The younger squealed out as he kicked his legs from underneath his elder sibling, “Ahaprihil plehease juhuhust stahahap!”

“I can’t 'stahahap' unless you tell me, bro! How does this paintbrush against your shell feeeeeel?” The girl emphasized as she swirled her paintbrush where Mikey’s shell met his plastron. 

“I cahahan’t— squeak pfftahahah!!!” The orange banded turtle cried as he arched his back, kicking his legs desperately from underneath his older sibling. 

“Just say a single word, little brother. Aren’t you the one who wanted to help me with my art project~?” The green cladded teenager asked smugly.

Michelangelo blushed, hugging a nearby pillow to his face as his muffled laughs echoed around the room, “I-I dihid buhuhut Ihi dihihindn’t know ihit would be soho tihiHICKLY—?! NAHAHEEEK!!! SqueakAHAPRIL NAHAT squeak THEHEHERE!!!” The light scarlet eyed mutant squawked as his sister started to gently scratch at his lower shell with her nails. 

The human raised an innocent brow, her fingernails dancing across the other, “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just tracing your shell to help you think!” 

“PLEHEASE PLEHEASE squeak REEREEHEE!!!” The paint loving turtle squealed, banging his fists in the floor, “OKAHAY OKAHAHAY!! F-FLUHUHUTTERY! IHIT FEEHEELS FLUTTERY!!” He laughed, letting out a sigh of relief as his sister got off of him, writing down the word he basically just screamed. 

“Fluttery…I like it!” The elder mused, going back and tracing the other’s shell with the brush. 

“M-Myhy gaHAHAD squeal Ihi hahate yohou…” The youngest murmured as he buried his face into the pillow more.

April held back an amused laugh, scritching her nails along the mutant’s upper shell, “Hate is a strong word, little buddy. But to refresh your memory, I’m doing a poetry art project so I need you to come up with a few…artsy word’s for me. And besides~: you’re in a mood…so you shouldn’t really be complaining all that much. I get my project done and you get tickled…it’s a win-win!”

Mikey huffed begrudgingly, blushing as his sibling basically just called him out…

The box turtle was a kind soul! A very kind soul in fact! 

So when his dear big sister texted that she needed help with her art project, Michelangelo was more than thrilled to lend a hand.

That was until he was told that April’s class was working on collages…and were given a single word to get inspired by and base their art piece off of how it made them and the people around them feel…

…And you want to know what his sister’s word was…?

Laughter.

“Your soho meeheean…” The youngest groaned loudly through his giggles. 

“I’m not being mean if you like iiiit~!” The elder giggled, causing the box turtle’s blush to deepen, “NO!NOHO TEHEHEEASING!” The younger one squawked, “PRIHILLIE WEEHEE HAD AHA DEEHEEAL!” 

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” She said as she scribbled her youngest brother’s hips, “Y'know…I think I can add a couple more words to the list...”

“Whahat ohOTHER wohords?” Mikey asked. 

“Cute, adorable, sweet, lovable—” April listed.

“SHUHUT UHUP SHUHAHA— squeal SHUHUT. IHIT.” The scarlet eyed teen said, kicking his legs more now from underneath the other.

“But you are~!”

“NAHAH— squeak GOHAHA AHA— squeak AWAHAY!!” 

“But I can’t~! I need more words for my collage!” 

“THEHEN THIHINK OHOHOF SOHOME YOHOURSELF YOHOU FOUR EYED MOHOTHER— squeak FUHUHUCKER!!!”

The elder snickered as she lightly traced the sides of her little brother’s ribs, “Woowww…cursing me out…calling me names…it’s almost like you want me to go here…”

The orange banded teen let out a tiny but mighty scream at the new sensation at the back of his ribs, trying to get off of the floor, but alas, was stopped as April sat on the back of his lower shell once again, “YOHOU— SQUEAL!! AHAHAPRIL WEEHEE SQUEAK CAHAN TAHAHALK SQUEAK ABOHOUT THIS SQUEAK PLEHEASE!!” 

“I’m hearing lots of words not having to do with my collage~!” The girl in glasses said in a sing-song voice as she pinched up and down his ribs. “NAHAH— squeak squeal GAHAHAD WHYHYHY?!” The youngest cackled. 

“Because you legit asked me to?” The elder grinned evilly as she started to slowly count every single one of her little brother’s ribs now, “Duh~!”

“E-EEEHEEP! PLAHAHEASE NAHAT THAT NAHAT THAHAT NAHAT THAHAHAT!!!” Michelangelo screamed, hugging his middles as tears of mirth appeared in his eyes. 

“Not what~?”

“OKAHAY! SQUEAL OKAHAHAY!! YOHOHOU SQUEAL CAHAN PUHUT SQUEAK MEHERRY, JOHOHOLLY, FUHUNNY, LIHIHIVELY AHAND SWEEHEET NOHOHOW PLAHAHEASE!!!” The box turtle absolutely squealed. 

“There we go~! See? It wasn’t that hard.” April smirked, patting the other’s shoulder as she got up and added the five words on her paper. “Ihi feeheel lihihike I juhust gohohot bahahack frohom aha war…” Michelangelo groaned as he wiped his eyes to clear the happy tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, you’re fine.” April said as she rolled his eyes fondly, writing down the words Mikey said on the clipboard. The youngest stretched him arms, getting up and peering over the older’s shoulder, “Buhut anywahay’s, hohow mahahany mohore words do yohou need?”

“Five.” The elder said casually.

“FIVE?!” Michelangelo repeated in complete and utter awe, “How many words do yohou freaking neeheed?!”

“Five.” The older repeated, “The number in total was originally supposed to be ten but Mrs. Anderson said if I add one more to the required word count I’d get extra credit.”

“…Why do you always have to pick extra credit?” The orange cladded mutant whined, flopping on his bed as he looked at the ceiling.

“Because why not?” The elder huffed, “Now come over here! I need five more words on how laughter makes you…feel.” She said dramatically, putting a hand over her forehead for a theatrical effect. 

“Yeah, yeah...“ The light scarlet eyed teen uninterestingly said, “But you come over here; I don’t feel like lying on my carpet anymore.”

“Pfft— okay, your majesty.” The glasses wielding human snickered, sitting next to her brother on his bed. And without warning, the smaller teenager wrapped her in a hug from behind with one hand while the other slipped under her shirt and scribbled all over her bare stomach.  

“AUUGH! Y-YOU’RE HAHAHANDS ARE F-FUHUCKING FREEZING!!!” April seethed before bursting out into loud and contagious cackles, “AHHAHA— squeak! WAHAIT! WHAHAT THEHEHE FAHACK!?” She squealed. 

“Aww~! Look at you giggling up a storm~!” The smaller teen smiled, “Your laugh is beyond adorbs, Riri.” 

“STAHAP IHIT! YOHOHOU PEICE AHAHOF— squeal! NOHOH!” The older cried, kicking her legs in an attempt to escape which only caused the youngest to tickle harder. 

The human girl threw her head back; completely lost in her own squeals and shrieks. “Soooooo~! About those words~!” The youngest teased. 

“NAHAHAHAA— YOHOU LIHITTLE BRAHAHAT!!” The green cladded girl shouted. 

“I don’t think 'brat' or 'little' goes with the word 'laughter', Prillie...” Mikey giggled.

Oho revenge was sweet…

…So so sweet.

“YOHOU— hic! STAHAHAP IHIHIT NOHOHOW!!!” The girl in green giggly threatened. 

“No can do, big sis!” The youngest said as innocently as he could, “I need you to tell me how laughing makes you feel~! What do you feel right now~?”

“NO YOHOU— hic GAHAHAH! STAHAP IT— squeak!” April howled, “FIHINE! FLUHUHUTTERY! IHI FEEHEEL FLUHUTTERY!!” 

“I already said that.” The orange themed turtle hummed, getting his hand out of the other’s shirt and squeezing her thigh mercilessly.  

“MIHIHI— hic FAHAHACK— hic! O-OKAHAHAY!! GIHIGGLY?!”

“Four more woooords~?”

“NOOOHOHOH! DUHUHUDE YOHOUHAH— squeal!”

“I can’t stop unless you give me four more words~! Come on, big sis~! Just four more words~!” Michelangelo taunted, using both of his hands to knead the other’s hips. “GYAHAH!!! M-MYHYHY GAHASH!! FIHIHINE! JOHOY?!” The girl offered as she kicked and thrashed.

The younger teen nodded, “Three more~!”

“REEHEELAHAHAXED?!” 

“Two more~!” 

April let out a loud squeal, getting out of the hug as she lightly hit the other on the upside of his head, “Ahand trihiumphant.” She huffed, writing down the four words she said. 

The light scarlet eyed mutant rolled his eyes, looking over her shoulder once more, “How do you feel 'triumphant' when you’re laughing??? That doesn’t even make any sense…”

“Yohou dohon’t mahahake ahany sense.” The girl with glasses retorted as she stuck her tongue out at her little brother; which the little brother in question gladly copied.

Then suddenly and abruptly, Donnie walked into the bedroom, leaning on the doorframe as he knocked on the wall, “Hello, Michael and Prillie. I’ve come to inform you two that Raph has obtained us some rice and peas and jerk chicken for dinner.”

April and Mikey turned their attention to the softshell as he leaned on the doorway, “…Where did Raphie get the food from?” The box turtle asked suspiciously. 

“Oh…well, he and Leo made it.” Donatello grimaced, shrinking slightly as he saw his younger brother’s face start to form in anger, “They cleaned up after themselves— I promise. I supervised.” The light golden eyed mutant assured.

The light scarlet eyed teen rolled his eyes, going over towards his door, “I’ll be the judge of that.” He huffed, going to march towards the door but was halted by April as she gave him the clipboard. “Oh Dee~? Before we go eat, do you mind answering a quick question for me?” The eldest asked innocently.

“Uhm…okay?” The purple banded teenager said as he fully walked into the room, closing the door, “What’s the question?” 

“How does laughing make you…feel?” April asked.

The softshell blinked once in confusion, “…What?”

“How does laughing make you…feel?” Mikey repeated.

“I…don’t understand the question.” Donnie chuckled in amusement, “How does it make me…feel…?” He repeated to himself as he scratched his head, “I…feel joy when I laugh, I suppose.” 

“Anything else?” The girl in glasses emphasized, sneakingly inching her way to her brother as he was deep in thought. “Erm…lively? I do feel quite alive and quite joyous when laughter occurs.” 

“Anything eeeelse?” The chocolate brown eyed teenager drawed out as she scribbled her nails alongside the taller’s sides. Donnie let out a short squeal, flinching back as he hugged his middles.

The one day he left his battleshell in his room…

“Ahahapril doohoo. nahahat.” The taller teen warned, backing away as his sister inched towards him. “Whaaaat~?” She said casually, “I’m just helping.” 

“Tickling meehee ihihis not hehelping meehee thihink ohof ahan answer!” The light golden eyed teen said as if it was obvious, riskily sprinting to the door as his younger brother effortlessly caught him; the two boys basically fighting to the death as Mikey effortlessly pinned the older turtle to the ground, tickling his underarms.

“HEHEH— hic STAHAHA! YOHOU L-LIHIHITTLE SHIHAT!! LEHET MEEHEE GOHOH!!!” The tech loving turtle shouted, squirming from underneath the other.

“Nu-uh! I suffered so now you have to suffer.” The box turtle smiled. 

“AHA— hic! WHAHAT— PFFTAH! DOHOES THAHAHAT EEHEEVEN hic MEAN?!” The taller turtle inquired through his chorus of cackles. 

“Thought of a word to describe how you’re feeling yet, Don?” The eldest asked as she sat next to her two brother’s, grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

“IHIHI’M hic GOHOING hic TOOHOO KIHICK YOHOU GUHUHUYS' ASSES!!!”

“Language, young man!” The box turtle scolded, gently flipping Donnie on his plastron as he scribbled his fingers lightly against his shell. Donatello frantically kicked his legs, banging his fists on the ground as he screeched in laughter.

“GAHAHAD NAHAHAH— hic! PLAHAHEASE!!! WHYHY?!” He wheezed, tears of mirth blurring his vision as he shut his eyes tight. “I-IHIHI FEEHEEL REEHEELAXED!!!”

“Already have that one.” Michelangelo commented. 

“GIHIHI— hic! GIHIHIGGLY! I FEEHEEL GIHIHIGGLY!”

“Already said that one too~!“ 

Donatello wheezed once more, his heels digging into the carpet and his legs flinging around like crazy, “HAHAPPY! I FEEHEEHEEL HAPPY!!! NOW STOHAP STAHAHOP STOHOHOP!!” He cried, letting out a contented sigh as his little brother stopped the assault. 

“I hic cohohome here…toohoo deliver hic news…ahahand thihis is hohow I’m hic being repahaid….” Donnie grumbled through his giggles, huffing and puffing under his breath as Mikey hugged him. 

“And that makes eleven words!” The girl with glasses grinned, writing down the last word on her paper. “Thanks for your help, you too.” 

“Ahanythihing fohor you, Ihi guess.” The softshell said as he rolled his eyes, getting up as his younger brother was still clinged to him, “So…are we going to go eat or…?” The box turtle asked as he hugged his older brother’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah…” April giggled as she clinged to Donnie’s other arm as all three of them walked to the kitchen, linking arms. 

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

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

[rashomon-vu]

Come out and haunt me

I know you want me

Come out and haunt me

- Apocalypse, Cigarettes after Sex

[dxckgrxsonx]

I will take what ever you will give me of dick pick jay please

how about this?? how about feelings and emotions and both of them saying they love each other without actually saying they love each other??

**

Some nights are better than others.

It’s almost grief leaking into your chest when you find him. Sat down in the shower. Silent. Alone. He’s got his back pressed against frigid tile, knees tucked up close to his chest. He looks young. He looks small. There’s almost pain flaring awake in your gut, like being stabbed in a dream and waking up half linked into adrenaline, convinced you’re torn open and bleeding.

You look at Jason, still dressed in his gear, still armed, and wonder if he’s waiting for a fight. There’s some nights you look at him and watch him bring conflict home, watch him tap the grips of his guns to make sure they’re still there, watch him manoeuvre around your apartment like there’s a threat hidden somewhere.

Sometimes, it’s like the violence won’t leave and even worse, sometimes you watch Jason not know what to do with himself once the fight is over.

There’s water beating against his back and his hair sticks to his forehead but he doesn’t move. Not even when you smooth yourself into his peripheral. Not even when you slide open the frosted glass door and step inside.

The shower cubicle is wide enough for you to sit next to him, so you fold yourself up small, tuck your edges into place around him. Your knee knocks against his own and you press your arms together, shoulder to elbow to wrist. And still, he doesn’t move.

His name settles on your tongue but you swallow it back. Instead, you link your pinky fingers together and wait.

Jason says your name so softly, almost like a whisper, maybe a prayer, and presses his knee into yours. The pressure is barely there, feels like nothing at all, but the relief is sweet on your tongue, the awful banging on the inside of your chest finally stops.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You whisper, tugging his hand closer so you can smooth your thumb over his knuckles. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Dropping his head onto your shoulder Jason sighs, almost as if you’ve spread balm over an old, aching wound, almost like you’ve found exactly where he’s hurting and taken it away. His body leans into you, legs unfolding to lay straight, feet touching the opposite wall.

You follow his lead, stretch out so you can keep his hand in your lap. Turning his hand over you smooth your fingers over his palm, walk over the lines and play gently with his fingers. Measuring the size of your hand to his, you huff quietly in amusement and Jason, without saying a single word, slots his fingers between your own and holds your hand.

“You’ll stay?” He asks.

Bringing his hand to your mouth you kiss his knuckles, the barest brush of your lips, “Always. I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me. I won’t go unless you want me to.”

“Never.” Jason murmurs, and you know he’s watching your intertwined fingers. “I’ll never not want you. For the rest of my life, you are all I’ll ever want.”

**

[friendlyneighbourhoodelf]

can i interest anyone in some codywan kissing on this fine thursday evening?

“Please, darling.” Obi-Wan looked at him with a gaze that could have melted butter. Fortunately, Cody was made of stronger stuff that than. “I promise not to lose it again.”

“Really?” Cody raised an eyebrow, pulled himself up to his full height so he could look down at Obi-Wan, just a little. “You promise?”

“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan leaned forward, let his eyes fall to Cody’s lips. Let them rest there until he knew Cody noticed, the bastard. “I promise.”

Cody didn’t move. With his free hand, the hand not holding Obi-Wan’s lightsaber far above his head, he threaded his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair. Felt him shudder against his hand. “You see,” He kept his voice low in a way he knew drove Obi-Wan a little mad, “I don’t quite believe you.”

Obi-Wan batted his eyelashes in a way that said, who, me? Then smiled, his voice kept carefully level, “My darling, you wound me.”

“You’ll get yourself wounded, more like.”

“I would never,” Obi-Wan leaned closer, close enough that Cody could feel his breath against his cheek, “Afterall, I have the Force to protect me.”

“You have me.” It was a promise spoken again and again, whispered into Obi-Wan’s neck in the darkness of his quarters, shouted silently each time they fought side by side. Spoken so often, it was as familiar as breathing, yet still they said it. I’m here. I’m here.

Obi-Wan’s answer was a quick kiss placed at the corner of his mouth. For a brief moment, Cody almost gasped, almost dropped the lightsaber there and then. Instead he pulled back, just a little.

Obi-Wan gasped into the empty space. Still close enough to feel his breath, Cody shivered.

“Promise me,” His voice was heavy, weighted with emotion he couldn’t quite give words to. “Please, Obi-Wan.”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan’s voice was the mirror of his own, heavy with emotion in a way Cody so rarely heard, “Force, Cody, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to worry you. I will try. I promise you that.”

“Alright. Alright. I know.” He finally let his hand that clutched the lightsaber drop. Stood there for a moment, the ‘saber resting in his steady hand between them. He leaned towards Obi-Wan, almost felt the tiny gasp that escaped his lips as Cody’s hand drifted to his belt. He clipped the lightsaber to Obi-Wan belt, let his hand hover for just a moment. Obi-Wan stood still beneath his hands, it was only his breathing that betrayed him.

“Thank you, darling.” The words were whispered into Cody’s ear, softly, they settled in his head.

“Just don’t lose it again.”

Obi-Wan hummed, and Cody watched as his hand curled its way around his neck. He leaned slightly into the touch, even like this the calluses and scars that decorated the hand were known to him, just as intimately as his own.

The hand twisted into his curls, gently pulling his head back, just a little. Despite himself he gasped, the little noise an almost desperate thing as it flew from his lips.

Obi-Wan grinned, there was something dangerous about it, just at the edges. “My dear, I never mean to disappoint you.”

He meant to respond, but found Obi-Wan’s lips against his own. He breathed into the kiss, instead, his mind filled only with Obi-Wan. The Jedi’s other hand curled around his jaw, his thumb pressed carefully into the skin beneath his ears, into the place that Obi-Wan knew made him gasp, desperate beneath his hands.

After what felt like a lifetime, a star born and collapsed again, Obi-Wan pulled back. His nose just brushing Cody’s, he breathed his name. It was promise, and prayer. Spoken with so much reverence that, if he was not seeing his own feelings reflected back at him, he would never have believed such a thing was possible.  

He let the word hang, just for a moment, before he tugged gently at Obi-Wan’s hair. Felt him shudder against his hand, pulled apart in that instant. Felt honoured that he was allowed to see this, trusted enough that Obi-Wan let himself shatter like this.

He pressed Obi-Wan’s name against his neck, felt the way his hands, still resting against Cody, twitched at the contact. He pressed another kiss to Obi-Wan’s neck, then another to his jaw. Eventually, he reached Obi-Wan’s mouth. Hovered there for a moment, allowing his breath to flutter against Obi-Wan’s lips.

Something that sounded like his name caught up in a desperate plea fell from Obi-Wan, and at that Cody kissed him.

Heat curled through him at the way Obi-Wan melted into the contact, letting himself fall endlessly into Cody’s hands. Trusting Cody to catch him.

In answer, Cody held him. Did not allow any part of him to slip between his fingers as they curled their way through his hair. His free hand had, at some point, come to rest upon Obi-Wan’s back and he relished in the way Obi-Wan leant into the touch.

It was this trust, as much as the contact, that sent a heady sense of affectionthrough Cody. Love, if he was brave enough to let himself think it.

Obi-Wan gasped, briefly. Again and again, Cody’s name fell from his lips.

“Here, darling. I’m here.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say the rest.

[undermine-the-instinct]

Neuvillete is definitely the type to ask you "Did you drink any water today" if you say you have a headache

[exmotranny]

the green carpet scratches at your pink heels. bile rises in your throat.

they talk about womanhood- but it’s not quite right. there is the pink and compliments and talk of boys

i am a beloved daughter

but there is also something else. it digs at your flesh, it feasts on your skin. your mother motions at your chest, bigger than hers and you're not even done growing yet! how lucky.

of heavenly parents

you pray to a man every night, finish it in another’s name. on your knees. you were sent a shady link as a kid. the woman on her knees, tears streaming out of her eyes, i don't want this, she said

with a divine nature and eternal destiny

blood on the inside of your underwear. you were told this meant you were a woman now. you were ten years old. what the fuck did you know about being a woman? your mom said you weren’t allowed to touch between your legs, but it's normal to want to. you didn't know what that meant, either.

as a disciple of jesus christ,

you wanted to be desired. you daydreamed of being the trophy for boys around you, of claiming that role one day as a wife. you came from a long line of women married young. you don’t know their names, but you were taught about their husbands in church.

i strive to become like him.

pressing your breasts down as much as possible, trying to give the illusion of a flat chest. badly cropped jpgs of jesus photoshopped to have top surgery scars are the secret currency you pay to get past the hours of church. you hold them like diamonds.

i seek and act upon personal revelation

you thought god was talking to you. you almost threw away everything you owned. you thought you were a prophet. total fuckin’ ego death! holy shit! god speaks through me!

and minister to others in his holy name

and then the next morning. when your faith crashed, when moroni abandoned you, did it feel unreal to you too, joseph?

i will stand as a witness of god

oh god, no. please. i don’t know what’s real anymore.

at all times

leg hair peeking from under your pretty sunday dress. they all stare. you ignore them and open up to D&C 132.

and in all things

emma, did you love him to the end? i don’t think you wanted him. did you watch as he married a 14 year old? did you tell him you burned the commandment? did you cry when he died for the church that he loved more than he loved you?

and in all places.

blood on the floor of carthage jail. this martyr will be remembered forever. do they talk about you, emma? or are you just joseph’s wife?

as i strive to qualify for exaltation,

when i marry, my husband will be a god, and i shall cleave onto him. when i marry, i will go to his universe and bear more of his children.

i cherish the gift of repentance

heads bowed low as the sacrament is passed. my hands clutch onto the bottom of my skirt. pleasure outside celestial marriage is forbidden. i apologize for loving the wrong way.

and seek to improve each day

i tried to kill myself, last time i got home from girl’s camp. i got home and cried and found the pills and shoved them into my mouth until i cried more and more until i was gagging. i hunched over the toilet. my hands on the grimy floor.

with faith, i will

forced to sing in front of the congregation. my head spun from anxiety. my stomach turned with nausea.

strengthen my home and family,

loving wife beautiful kids loyal husband church once a week work weekdays weekend mom monthly round on the business end of his cock forever and the vomit threatens to make an appearance.

make and keep sacred covenants,

an old man is in a room alone with me. he asks me if i masturbate.

and receive the ordinances and blessings

i tell the man no. i receive a card so i can be ordained.

of the holy temple.

that's just how it goes, isn't it?

all around are paintings of god and jesus. we learned about heavenly mother. why don’t i see her in paintings? did god have plural marriages? did heavenly mother make us? why don’t we pray to her? did she watch god marry a 14 year old? did she cover her eyes? when she saw blood on her underwear, was she told she was a woman? did she touch between her legs? did she ever believe herself better than god? does she cry when she cant talk to us? why do i cry? was heavenly mother scared of singing in public and did she press her chest flat and did she cry when god forced himself into her mouth? did she burn his doctrine too?

i am given flowers on mother’s day. i will be one eventually, after all. and i vomit in the church bathroom quietly like the perfect woman i am supposed to be.

[r4inyclouds]

You can take Steve Rogers out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of Steve Rogers.

I heavily recommend putting ya glasses on for this ride of a rant. A... practically an essay on how Steve was out of character in Endgame:

Look, I still wholeheartedly believe that Sam deserves the title of Captain America, but even before that Steve dropped that shield, that title in the Civil War movie, for Bucky, in respect for Tony. Captain America wasn't even his label for years after that. Surprising how many didn't realise Steve in the endgame movie was Nomad, not Captain America.

But, he still fought, didn't he?

So people who say "Steve will always be THE Captain America!!" can go cry about it for all I care. Sam is the hero that he deserves to be. Yet, I suppose we're all entitled to our own opinions.

I don't even think the producers at the time even read the comics they were basing their large franchise on. That Steve in Infinity War wasn't Steve.

He was born a stubborn fighter, he was meant to end as that stubborn fighter we knew from 'The First Avenger'. It's in his nature how he was meant to be articulated as a person. It's in the comics, that hell- I haven't even exactly read most nor possess many of them! It's a joke, a jest; it's funny but not funny 'haha hilarious', but funny, odd, peculiar and perplexing. But from what I've seen from the fans on this side of the debate who have read the comics thoroughly, they all explicitly state that Steve would never do this or abandon anyone. I could, respectively, not care that the MCU was never, and never will be, canon to the comics, but they couldn't even keep one thing, an aspect that's similar or alike in any particular way to the comics, and that's the whole nature and personality of one of their most main focused characters, diverging from the whole point, centre, heart of Steve.

Steve never needed a label that told him he was a hero even when he was some twink before the serum, his whole arch, his whole goal was to become someone who helped, it wasn't from the start to settle down with a woman he was at a high school situation ship with, maybe, just maybe it could've worked if they attempted to even build and develop their relationship for it to make that little sense. Steven Grant Rogers admitted to being that stubborn little thing, and in a sense, he was like that, someone who determined to not be a coward and went against his non-spoken word.

And no, this has nothing to do with the fact I'm a HUGE Stucky shipper, I exclusively tried to avoid talking about Bucky in this half of the rant for a reason. I love Peggy, she's in my top 5, and I love domestic Steggy. It's just it was never right for Steve.

Steve will never, ever be able to run away from what he is. He is THE fight, with or without a useless hero label.

Now since I'm a bucky glazer, and he's my favourite character (I'm putting him in a jar once I get my first-ever Funko pop) I will go on to talk about Steve and Bucky, now, I'd understand if someone would not want to read this part because I'm 'just a wild Stucky shipper!' Who's own priority is trying to keep the ship afloat (I'm also occasionally a Sam x Steve x Bucky shipper but that's besides the point) But in this segment, I will be talking about them in an otherwise platonic sense; it doesn't even need to be romantic for me to say this. And, honestly, if the character of Bucky never existed in this universe, I would've still had this rant on my Tumblr about why Steve leaving is just... odd.

Okay, Steve spent THREE, THREE, I REPEAT THREE, HIS WHOLE DAMN TRILOGY, having at least one huge plot point just purely based on Bucky in each of his movies.

1. He went against whole military orders to get Bucky back, had a whole depression episode thinking he was dead, and then had another depression episode when he died, and then kind of just offed himself after that (Now, am I saying he offed himself for no reason for other than his friend?... yeah, so, there's a deleted scene where Rhodey asks Steve about how he practically died, and why he didn't just jump out into the water before he crashed, I'm tellin' you if you search it up it's there, now, people suspected that the reason it's a deleted scene is that it, well, opens a plot hole, and it just kind of seems like... he killed himself because bucky's dead? Like, ya know, there's no other reason to why he did this. But I might just be reaching there) God. So that point just says a lot about how the producers didn't even think for one second about him going back in time.

2. Nearly got killed by him, but when he figured out it was Bucky he went a berserk kind of insanity and risked his life as he put his trust in a man who was about to knock the shit out of him. Then, like- went for months on end to get Bucky back just because he left him on the side of the beach to not let him drown. Yeah, okay, sir. Also, does everyone just... Like, all silently agree not to talk about how they casually just drop platonic wedding vows to each other in every movie? Like, what do you exactly mean by "I'm with you 'till the end of the line", every time I hear that quote I go "WRITE THIS DOWN, WRITE THIS DOWN!" (not like I'll be getting married though)

3. How am I meant to summarise this with detail without just saying the few words in my mind that would just tell you the whole plot? [Squints eyes, checks notes]... Guess I gotta. 'Bro split Avenger for bro, Avenger no longer, Captain America? No longer for bro, bro picks bro up, bro says wedding vow, bro sad Wakanda.'

Then, now, I apologise sincerely for using this analogy, but he kinda, just, ya know, abruptly left to get the milk. He dropped everything once he got the chance to go back and left poor Bucky wide-eyed like some traumatised puppy with attachment issues they newly developed after shown that much devotion and affection from an owner who'd treat them right, and then was suddenly dropped into a random field of an environment, unfamiliar, they don't recognise it, as they then watch the rustic car they were once rescued from becoming a blur, speeding off into a distance he couldn't possibly ever trace back to. What in the holy fuck was that waste of three movies then.

(DEEP FUCKING BREATHS, RAIN, HOLY SHIT DEEP FUCKING BREATHS)

I hope people can't tell I'm a fanfic writer; this is the shittiest thing I've ever written, I swear my fanfics are more descriptive and crap, but I'm foaming from the mouth right now; I think I permanently disrupted my breathing pattern, well done me.

Sigh, okay, well.

He's a defender for his friends; his bonds double-tied with the strength that could be held within the core of the earth, yet that somehow immediately loosened, cracking the surface, crevice by crevice of that earth with one scene, one moment. His mantle of the goal, his word that he once held dear to his child heart, became not even an earth-shattering break.

Now, here we are.

So, I shall, if you don't mind, end this with my small conclusion of how it's was out of character for Steve to leave.

You can take Steve Rogers out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of Steve Rogers.