#back to the regular turtle bullying hours

[snackugaki]

ohno it was only supposed to be a throwaway design to bully an old man how did it end up like this, how did it end up like this

[tmntxthings]

it’s spooky season 🎃👻 may I please request some headcanons for the turtles with a friend or S/O (up to you) who can see & talk to ghosts? like in paranorman?

Humans, Mutants, and Ghosts!

author’s note: OH MY! you really know how to spark that creative writing energy, but I definitely think my brain went haywire after Raph’s lol, went from angsty seriousness to straight up ghost crack 💀 idek anymore but we gonna just go ahead and post anyways

warnings: spooky fluff, angst, cursing, crack, unedited

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Raph

“Hey Raphie” you said entering his room and immediately going to collapse on his bed. “Rough day?” Raph asked as he continued with his dumbbell reps. “More like rough life,” you muttered into his pillow. “Oh c’mon Y/n, school was that bad?” You sighed, wondering if you should shed some light, Raph didn’t know about the endless bullying you endured.

You weren’t like most, and try as you might to fit in, to be normal, it never worked out. You were cursed with an ability to see the dead. No one else knew, no one else could see them, only you. You had made the mistake of confiding to your friends when you were younger, and ever since then you were bullied. “Stop lying!!” “You’re such an attention whore,” “Really? Ghosts?? They’re not real.” “Freak.” “Weirdo”

The berating continued through high school. Some days were better than others. But today, you had witnessed something so creepy you couldn’t keep quiet. To not force yourself to relive the whole experience let’s just say it involved, three ghosts, and a guillotine. Enough said. And you just couldn’t keep in your gasp, causing the whole classroom to look your way. Whispering and side glances thrown your way as the teacher asked if you had something to say, “No, sorry” you replied already knowing you were gonna pay big time for your interruption.

“Fuckin’ phoney,” a group of your regular bullies had decided to follow you after school ended. “Hey! Creep! We just wanna talk, what did you see in class?? A ghost peen??” Laughter trailed behind you as you started to walk faster, ignoring them. You couldn’t go home. They’d just follow you inside, posing as actual friends to your parents. You decided you needed to lose them in the crowd, maybe visit your real friends… the group would get bored of trying to find you if you spent an hour or two at the lair.

“Don’t let them get away!” The head honcho growled, the group noticed your change in direction, heading for the bustling streets. But it was no use, you were a master of blending in, sneaking away, sticking to the shadows, you had ninjas for friends after all. When the coast was clear you dashed into the familiar alleyway, prying the manhole cover up so you could descend down the ladder quickly.

“No, it’s not all that bad..” you told Raph, sighing to yourself as you lied. You didn’t want his pity. You were lucky to finally have friends that treated you normally, regardless if they weren’t human, you’d take cool, friendly mutants over mean, fake humans any day. “Well if you ever wanna talk about what’s bothering you, I’ll be here,” Raph said reassuringly, knowing you were holding something back. He grunted as he placed the dumbbell on the floor, finished with his reps. “You wanna go to the arcade?” Raph asked, knowing it would help get your mind off of things. “Yeah,” you said turning your face to his voice, smiling at him, he always knew how to cheer you up, even if you weren’t telling him everything.

“They’ll find out eventually Y/n,” you slowly got out of Raph’s bed trying to keep a neutral face as you ignored the ghost pestering you. Did you mention that the ghosts bullied you just as much as your fellow classmates? Yeah, they loved to toy with you ever since they found out you could hear them, see them. “Then you’ll be all alone again, without a friend in this world, at least you’ll have me hahahahha” you held your tongue, following Raph to the arcade as he talked about what game the two of you should play. You were trying to pay attention to what he was saying. But it was hard with the ghost in your ear, circling you and coming in between you and Raph, distracting you so much that Raph stopped. “Y/n?”

“Huh?” You said blinking, looking through the ghost up at Raph. “I said, do you wanna play DDR? Or table hockey?” Raph was used to your dazed state, he didn’t mind repeating himself for you. But he was worried because you seemed tired. More tired than usual, like everything was draining you today. “Table hockey,” you said after a moment. “Heh smart choice, I’d beat you in Dance Dance Revolution,” he teased. “Yeah at least I’ll have a chance with the hockey,” you laughed, even though Raph was so big he had the moves!

You stood on your end of the table, holding onto your pusher, in a defensive position to cover your goal. You’d let Raph get the first push at the puck. But it seemed the ghost that had been badgering you wasn’t giving in that easily. Floating over to Raph, it always bothered you more when they went closer to your friends. You could handle ghosts in your face, in your ear, you were used to it. Still you took in a deep breath, reminding yourself Raph couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, couldn’t hear the horrible things it was saying. “What do you even see in this big lump? He’s totally stupid, rocks for brains!” You shot a glare at the ghost, but to Raph it looked like you were glaring at him.

“Uh Y/n?” He said sheepishly, wondering if you were that pissed that he had already managed to score on you. “Nice Raph, I was uh- getting my game face on!” You recovered, grabbing the puck from your goal and placing it in the center. You decided to go on the offensive this round. “Heh your game face is real scary!” Raph was half joking, half serious. That round had been quite intense, you hardly could hear the ghosts droning on as you focused on the game. Earning a point for yourself! “Yes!” You cheered, a big smile on your face as you looked up at Raph. It faltered slightly as you saw the ghost had it’s arms wrapped around Raph’s neck, acting as if he were choking your friend. “Nice one!” Raph said grinning, “last point to decide the winner!”

You blinked, nodding as you looked back down at the hockey table. That round took the longest, Raph ended up with the victory and he did a little dance in celebration, causing you to laugh. “Oh yeah!! oh yeah,” he sang being silly. The two of you ended up back in his room, talking and laughing. “So, you wanna talk about earlier?” He asked gently, a soft smile on his face. You knew he was talking about school, and you chewed on your lower lip. You would like to think that Raph was a really good person, someone who wouldn’t judge you for your curse. But you had thought that before and had been burned.

You sighed, looking at Raph, “tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him” you wanted to, despite your fears. Despite all the things the ghosts told you would happen if you did. “Raph, I’m not really liked at school,” you admitted quietly and he joined you on his bed, sitting next to you. He had a confused look on his face, not understanding how people couldn’t like you! You were so nice, you were easy to talk to! Among a bunch of other great qualities that Raph listed off in his head. “I don’t understand, why??” Raph asked. “Well, there is a rumor about me,” your eyes looked past him, in a daze as you remembered. “People believe the rumor and think I’m weird…”

“What rumor?” Raph said gruffly, not liking how judgmental the people at school seemed. Whatever rumor it was, surely people would see you for you! “That I can see ghosts,” you spoke so quietly it was practically whispered. “Ghosts?” Raph said thinking that was ridiculous. “And people believe that rumor??” You nodded, cringing at yourself for not saying the entire truth. “How could they?! I mean ghosts aren’t real!” And you looked down at your hands in your lap. The ghosts in the room cackling and laughing. “Hear that ladies and gentlemen, we ain’t real! Pftahaha hahahaha”

“I mean honestly Y/n they’re the weird ones for making up such a rumor and then believing it!” Raph continued. You looked up at him with shiny eyes, “the rumor.. it was started by me.” And Raph’s nonexistent eyebrows came together in even more confusion. “Huh??” And your hands went to your face, you couldn’t believe you were about to do this. Raph obviously didn’t believe in ghosts from what you just heard, yet you were still going to tell him. “Raph, I can see ghosts. I can hear them too. They are everywhere, they follow me around. I once told my friends and they didn’t believe me, and told the entire school… so I’m the ridiculous one,” you said rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

Raph’s mouth opened and closed. “Oh,” he said finally, trying to buy himself some time to formulate some thoughts. Then Raph reached for your hands, and you were surprised. You had been ready for him to laugh at you to call you a liar. “Can you see them now?” He asked curious, as if he was actually considering that you were telling him the truth. You nodded and went full on descriptive mode. “There’s actually been a jackass of a ghost following me around all day today, much like the bullies at school, he kept telling me how you wouldn’t believe me, that I’d be casted out again and alone for real this time. Of course he’d still be there, he went on to insult you… which was why I made that face back there in table hockey, and yeah wow I sound insane!” You said squeezing his hands and looking into his eyes hoping you hadn’t just scared him off.

“No no it makes total sense now, I had never seen you make such a face before in table hockey, you don’t really get upset when you lose at games,” Raph said remembering all the times the two of you had played together or with his brothers. You weren’t a sore loser. You smiled softly, “So… you believe me??” You asked and he smiled, “well I guess even if it sounds pretty unbelievably! I am a mutant after all I’m sure a lot of weird things exist even if I can’t see them!”

You hadn’t thought of that. But sure enough if you could have a cursed ability to see and hear ghosts, and you now had ninja mutant friends, was it really all that crazy? Or was this just a normal day in New York and most people were just utterly oblivious to? You decided it was the latter. “Thanks Raphie,” you beamed, he really did know how to cheer you up!

Leo

“And now she’s peeing,” you said in disgust as you watched the ghost dog squat right over Leo’s comic book pile. Leo gasped, “where did you say it was?!” He said putting the comic he currently has in his hands down to his lap as he looked around his room. “…do you really wa-“

“YES!” Leo cut you and said quickly, sitting up now and eyes his comic book collection. Already having an instinctual feeling as to where the invisible thing was. “Over the comics,” you said swiftly and watched as Leo jumped over you and out of bed. Stomping over to his collection and waved his arms frantically in the arm. “Stop it! You criminal how could you?! These are my babies!” Leo said dramatically and you couldn’t stop from snorting.

No matter what Leo did his arms were just going straight through the tiny corgi. The ghostly pew stream still going steady all over his babies. Though you really didn’t understand why Leo cared it wasn’t like they were actually wet. But you were sure he was thinking some dum dum of a thought. That it was about the principle and discipline and the blatant disrespect of his prized things. He said as much. “Lee, it’s a corgi, and let me just say it’s not mine! The pup just won’t stop following me!” You made sure to reiterate.

No doggo of yours would pee inside the house! Nope you would definitely train them, if for nothing else than to be potty trained! Leo grumbled, “and the only reason why I didn’t grab my odachis was because it’s a dog!” And you smacked your forehead. Not even bothering to explain how even his swords wouldn’t be able to do anything to a ghost. Mystic weapons they may be, you highly doubted teleportation swords qualified to be able to pierce ghostly beings.

Yes, Leo knew of your curse. And in the beginning he was a big nonbeliever. But you were way past the caring of what others thought. You’d continue to react to seeing your ghost friends, animals and slowly but surely Leo came to believe, it was either that or your imagination never stopped running. And even Mikey didn’t have that much creative juice! So Leo had decided you were either the world’s greatest actor and Donnie had paid you a fortune to prank him for forever. Or you could see ghosts.

Leo had annoyed Donnie on many occasions on that specific topic just in case. “Nardo. I’m telling you there is no prank with Y/n” he would say with a long sigh, tired of being badgered. “Poochie,” you said in a high pitched voice, calling the corgi over to Leo’s bed where you laid. Leo placed his hands on his hips. “Oh so now it can get in my bed too?” Leo questioned and you just gave him a smile, “oh come on she’s not gonna pee again, she literally just did!” You said pointing over to the comics and he admitted you had a point. Though Leo didn’t exactly know how to climb back into his bed without wondering if he was going to crush the dog.

“Lee, just hop in, it’s floating,” you pointed toward the foot of his bed. “Oh okay,” he said. “Goodnight pooch,” Leo said going to pat where you just pointed and you snickered as the dog licked Leon’s face, happy for the attention. “What now?” Leo questioned as he got next to you, laying down. “She likes you, licked all over your face when you petted her,” you explained, turning to face him. “Awwww, I love you too pooch!” Leo said happily and waggled his brow bones at you. “We’re gonna have to come up with a better name,” Leo said seriously. And you nodded, “how about Princess?” You offered and Leo asked you to pull up a picture of what the corgi looked like.

“Hmmm,” he said once he was supplied with a similar look-alike picture. “No not Princess,” he replied. “That’s a Lady,” he said in complete confidence and you gasped as you nodded. He was completely right because the dog started barking and jumping around excitedly. “It really is!” You nodded and smiled telling Leo the dogs reaction, or rather Lady’s reaction. “What can I say, Mikey ain’t the only one who can name like a boss!” He said hands going behind his head and legs crossing casually. You laughed shaking your head at his cockiness. “All hail the new name king,” you said sarcastically bowing your head towards him. “Rise peasants, no need for flattered,” he continued on with the bit.

But you pushed him arm, at the word peasant and he immediately snickered. “Just kidding just kidding,” he told you. “Yeah that’s what I thought,” you stuck out your tongue and he copied you. That night Lady had sneakily crept up to lay in between you and Leo, you woke up with the green ghostly outline of the dog missing it’s front left paw. And you couldn’t help but smile, noticing Leo’s mouth parted open and slightly drooling on his pillow. He was such a goofball, but he was your goofball!

Donnie

“Alright Y/n, have you ever seen the greats? Darwin? Newton? GALILEO?! EINSTEIN?!” He was getting more and more excited at the possibilities. Just to make sure you knew who he was talking about he flashes holographic images in front of your face of all the scientists he just named. “Well, no I don’t think so, they don’t exactly look the same as when they were alive,” you tried to explain.

Sometimes whole heads were chopped off and the ghost would just float around aimlessly. Yeah… you were immune to the gore. “Hmm well most of these guys died from heart issues, though Darwin did pass from both heart attack and seizures.” Donnie explained, and you wondered just how much of his brain was filled with information on his favorite scientists. “Oh well, then they should look much the same,” you noted as you tried to remember the faces from the images he still had up. “Though… Einstein’s brain was removed after his death,” Donnie said making a face at what you assumed he was imagining you would see.

“It’s not all that bad, though I might be saying that just cause I’ve seen pretty much everything death related at a young age,” you watched as Donnie turned in his swivel chair, tapping his wrist tech to turn off the holograms. “Well if you haven’t seen them then that’s fine, they probably don’t haunt the sewers of New York,” he joked. “You’d be surprised, a lot of ghosts just like the company I reluctantly provide, and they are all total gossips so I’ve seen a lot,”

“Why don’t you just lie? I can pretend to be Charles Darwin,” one haughty ghost stated. You sighed, “see now I’m getting suggestions to lie to you because they want attention, that one just said he’d pretend to be Darwin for you,” you said as you pointed across the room. “No thank you, no lies needed to appease me,” Donnie said shooting a glare across the room. The ghost grumbled as he faded through the walls.

The conversation took a turn as you asked Donnie about what he was working on. He went in a deep dive explanation for you, even if you could only understand a quarter of what he said, you still listened. Nodding and asking questions when you were completely confused. “It’s still in beta though, I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Donnie said as he looked back down at the blueprints. “Well I should probably be heading back up anyways,” you said as you stretched up from the swivel chair you had resided in. “Want me to fly you home?” Donnie offered knowing you had quite a walk. “That’s okay,” you had started to say when you heard commotion from across the room.

You turned your face taking in the group of ghosts that suddenly appeared. “So this is our biggest fan?” Galileo said eyeing you up and down and you sputtered, “no no that would be him,” you said pointing a thumb in Donnie’s direction who was staring at you confused waiting for an explanation. “This is Donatello Hamato, he’s one of the greatest minds of our generation, a scientist just like all of you,” and Donnie gasped immediately shooting out of his chair.

His feet tapping the ground excitedly, “Incredible!” Darwin said, no doubt wondering how Donnie came to be. “Darwin just said incredible,” you whispered and Donnie almost squealed. “Okay Donnie, don’t freak out,” he said to himself. “I’ve always had so many questions!” He started and you became a translator. Donnie did have a million and one questions for his idols and they were more than happy to answer. As the hours passed and you started to yawn the ghosts promised if Donatello ever wanted more answers they wouldn’t be far.

“They’re gone,” you said tiredly and Donnie was jumping up and down. “I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED!!!” He said stopping the voice recording that he just happened to have running the entire conversation. “Just in case! Wouldn’t want to forget any precious answers,” he said holding the recorder close to his plastron as if it was the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for a week!” He fist pumped the air and while you were happy for Donnie, you were about to fall asleep. Right then and there, the hours of scientific talk had been too complex for you to really understand.

“Thanks Y/n, that was-“ he finally looked over at you to see your head down on his work table. You were fast asleep and he smiled endearingly. He knew you had wanted to head home hours earlier so he really did appreciate you staying. He quietly picked you up, holding you to his plastron just like how he had with the recorder, taking you out of his lab to his room. Everyone else was fast asleep or at least in their own respective rooms. Donnie gently placed you on his bed, and pulled the covers over you, “Goodnight,” Donnie whispered, he on the other hand headed back to his lab. Too excited to do anything other than conduct more experiments with the new knowledge provided by none other than his great scientist idols!

Mikey

“Say what??” Mikey said wrapping the blanket that was around him tighter. “Don’t worry Mikey I won’t tell you anymore than that, I just know I probably look a little ditzy when I stare off,” you said quickly knowing he was afraid of ghoulish things. You had decided Mikey was a really good friend and keeping secret from him was hard enough. He was the sweetest, well he did have that Dr. Delicate Touch to him, but still the sweetest!

So you had decided to tell him about your strange ability. He often caught you staring off and not realizing you were being talked to until someone snagged your attention back. But now that you had told him you could not only see ghosts but also hear them, he was now looking around his room with a scared expression. “Mike, nothing’s in here!” You lied, feeling absolutely horrible that he was now scared! “Really?” He sighed in relief and you nodded quickly.

“Plus they don’t look like scary ghosts, they’re actually mostly harmless animals, like cats and dogs!” You said continuing to spew out white lies. “Wowwwww, that sounds cool!!” He said as his grip on the blanket loosened. “Yeah,” you smiled, happy he wasn’t worrying as much. Even though you had counted about twenty ghosts floating around in front of the tv that you and Mikey were currently watching. Seriously ghosts were like moths drawn to a flame when the television played. They especially liked Mikey’s choice of movie. Though you decided to keep that to yourself.

While it looked like you were watching the movie, you were actually watching ghosts argue back and forth with whose turn it was to get front row seats. The all argued like a bunch of annoying kids even though they were probably hundreds of years old. “Y/n?” You blinked and turned to the orange clad turtle. “Are there any ghosts now?” He whispered, and you wondered he was trying to act brave. You scanned the room, eyes roaming over all the ghosts acting as if they weren’t really there. A couple of snickers and grumbles were met with your stare. “Nope!” You said again and Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“What?!” You said feeling sheepish, were you that much of a bad liar?! “I can handle it,” Mikey said and you sighed. This boy was definitely going to run for his room. “Angelo, are you sure you want to know?” And he nodded. “Okay… there’s about 30 ghosts in here now,” you said calmly. And you watched as Mikey blinked and looked around the empty living room. “Do they look like Hamato’s?” He asked curiously and you glanced back at everyone for a moment. “A couple wear the family crest, yes,” you noted, you hadn’t really thought about that before. But every time you saw Splinter he was always being followed by many ghosts unbeknownst to him.

“Well then they’re family!” Mikey said getting comfortable and snuggling up under his blanket. Wow, no running for the hills?! “Why were you so concerned earlier then?” You asked unable to stop yourself. “Well a bunch of stranger ghosts haunting the lair is pretty creepy but it’s totally cool if they are family,” he said as if that rationalized it all. “Righttt,” you agreed, shaking your head with a smile. “Are they enjoying the movie?” He suddenly asked and your smile brightened as all the ghosts turned and said their praise about his movie choice. “Yes, they all really like your taste in movies,” you told him and he gushed. “Aweeee you guys!” He said looking around the room and you couldn’t help but giggle. Knowing he was looking at nothing in his eyes but truly it looked like he could see them too!

“They particularly hate Leo’s movie nights,” you sputtered, laughing out loud. Mikey snickered too. “I’ll have to tell him,” he said happy to have won out over his blue brother. “I’m sure he’ll never live it down,”

Later in the kitchen you sat on one of the counters watching as Mikey decorated the cookies he had just finished cooking. “Looks delicious!” You said eyeing them all hungrily. “What does the fam think?” Mikey asked and you turned your face, “well uhm, they can’t really eat they stopped getting hungry a long time ago, but they appreciate your artistic talents,” you explained after a bunch of answers were thrown in your face. Soon Mikey was always asking for ghostly validation to which you readily answered, becoming a translator of sorts. If Mikey wanted to know what his great great great great great ghost grandparents thought of him, then sure, you’d tell him all the wonderful things they said. Because he deserved to know, he deserved all the love and praise!!

[story-collector]

The Family We Chose

Part 4

I am so sorry about the delay...I literally have no excuse. I was literally just ignoring that I needed to type this.

I’m only planning about six chapters so I have two more after this. Depending on how I feel I’m going to start taking requests for little side one shots. My ask box is open I believe. Also sorry for how short the last chapter was, I kinda covered all I had in that much and my style of writing isn’t the most descriptive and then over descriptive in other place....idk, but feed back is welcome and I will do my best to meet your expectations! (Note: I will not change anything at all what so ever if you try to gatekeep)

⚠️Small trigger warning for sexual harassment ⚠️

16

The attacks from the League of Assassins became harsher and harsher. We got away with more wounds and more scars. People started to question. Outings were harder, so much crime was passed over because we were to busy fighting the League and protecting Damian. We mourned everyone we missed and doubled our patrols. But exhaustion set in, and during one of the times we were all asleep or not there, Damian slipped away.

We searched for him for months while still fighting crime and villains almost every single day. The Akumas got worse and then we realized that the League of Assassins had left and we cried together.

He had left the turtle miraculous in my hand when he left. I had woken up to his absence and the bracelet slipping from my grasp. I put it on and hadn’t removed it since. We had become more vicious with the Akumas as they got harder and we found no signs of Damian. People noticed and for awhile they were scared and tried even harder to not feel. We don’t like to think of that time.

As four months with no signs we left off searching. We still kept an eye out but between regular patrols, school, Akumas (and now the Amoks), and work, we didn’t have as much time to look as we did before. I cried the day we had to stop searching and spent hours looking at the photos of him and the rest of the team. We cried ourselves to sleep many times during this year.

For awhile we disappeared into our work. People grew concerned for us as it reflected both in our superhero life and our civilian life. The people realized that their superhero team had lost something but they didn’t quite know what as Damian was only a rumor and ghost to the people. This year was a dark spot to our reputation but not one we were faulted for.

During this year a new kid came to our class, her name was Lila Rossi and she was the devil incarnate. She was a lying manipulative bitch. None of us liked her, not with her lies about us and the way she twisted the class. She trapped Adrien, his dad forcing him to be with her as she modeled for Gabriel. Adrien was Ace, and he hated her. He didn’t like the way she touched him, the way she grabbed him, the way she tried to advance on him. The way she tried to force him.

We tried to keep him away from her and the class didn’t like it. They thought I was jealous and that we were the bullies. They fell so deep for her lies that we didn’t think they would ever really get out of that pit. They sacrificed their futures for her lies. Not to brag but we were already so much ahead of them. We didn’t lay down out plans for a lie of a better chance. It was still disheartening to see how much they gave up for a lier.

One person didn’t fall for her lies. Alix continued to stay by our side. And as such after a few months we brought her into the team. At first we thought she would be good for the bunny miraculous, but the tiger fit her much better. She quickly bonded with Roaar, the two causing a lot of mischief and bringing needed joy to our lives. She had never met Damian but she still mourned with us and stayed by our side as we adjusted to life without him.

Elsewhere

“Come along Damian. We shouldn’t keep your father waiting.”

I glared up at the woman that gave birth to me. No, I didn’t think of her as my mother. She and the rest of the league had tried to hurt and kill the people I considered family.

I quickly shoved the memories away, it wouldn’t do good to cry in front of The Talia Al-Ghul. We were fleeing the temple, my grandfather having lost his life in the recent attack. I found I didn’t feel as much sorrow as I thought I would. I stepped onto the boat and rushed to my room and locking the door.

I slid to the floor and just stared at the ceiling. No news had come out of Paris about my family. It was like the miraculous team and Hawkmoth didn’t exist to the outside world. What mattered was that I knew. I knew how hard they fought to protect their city and how hard they would take it when they couldn’t save someone.

I refused to think of how hard they had taken my disappearance. It would be better and safer for them in the long run. I still missed them so much but at least they would die or get injured because they were protecting me again. I felt the boat start to move and sighed before standing and going to the window.

“I’m sorry for leaving, but at least you’re safe.”

Taglist

@buginetye @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @dood-space @silvergold-swirl

[ramblingramram]

Dinner With the Torkals [Closed]

At 6 p.m., it was time for the Bistro to close for the night, shoo away their regulars who had all hour to pack and leave. The quick last minute orders were given and leave with warm drinks and sugary bread.

Melmann called all his kids and told them the game plan. 

Food was nearly done and being set in careful tops and containers to keep their warmth, some stayed in the oven while others were put in bowls and platters for quick access and scooping. Needless to say they had dinner under control. Tonight. 

Everyone was running upstairs to clear up any sign they ever lived in the space above, Charlie and Bree were sweeping the patios for the night as Chara slid out from her window and walked onto the long porch connecting her’s and the Torkal’s homes.

It was a odd fixture, added after Dmitri was taken away. They maybe would had it built sooner if not for then, and they didn’t want more than necessary property damage if Dmitri’s goons wanted to piss around and shoot their potted plants off their window sills.

“Is he coming?” Bree pushed off her pile of dust off the edge in time of Chara reaching the small set up chairs and taking a seat. “Did he text you?”

“He did, and yes, he is coming over. Chill Bree, this is Sly you’re anxious about.” Chara checked her phone again, checking a timer on her phone and waiting for the convenient ‘ping!’ that her messaging app would give if Sly felt at all oblidged to answer her freaking texts with something other thank OK-

“Chara.” Chara looked back to Charlie, the darn green turtle’s stare kind scared her. but she smiled like nothing mattered. “You have contact duty AND you have to bring something to the dinner.”

“I did get Sly’s text, and yes! I made something to bring to dinner!”

Charlie cocked and eyebrow. “Something edible?”

The ram caught on her words before busting out a gut laugh. “YES! I made something edible! 3 edible things in fact!

Chara laughed a bit more, waiting under Charlie broke eye contact and went on the finish the porch and she whipped around and busily typed out another response.

[Chara 6:03 P.M.] Dad please come here the neighbor kids are bullying me.

@askthetrashthief

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Knitting Needles Make Good Conversation Starters

Summary:  How does the so-called 'angry one' of the family become not so angry? Simple. With a few good coping mechanisms, and a lot of help and support from his family.

((Heyyyyy. This is my newest RotTMNT story, pretty much just focusing on Raph and sorta trying to explain why he isn’t as angry in TMNT!2018 as he is in other incarnations. Also plenty of family fluff, cause I love this turtle family ^v^ Anyway, I posted a link to this story on AO3 yesterday but I decided to just post the whole story here on Tumblr too. Anyway, hope you all enyoy - and thank you to all the people who have commented on the story already! ^v^))

“Chōsen o hajimeru tokidesu! Kare wa atarashī kuruma ni katsu koto ga dekimasu ka? Mitsukemashou! Sasori o hanashi nasai!”

Splinter sighed. Not even the amusing sight of the newest Scorpion Treadmill contestant stepping up to the machine for what was sure to be a spectacular failure could bring a smile to his furry face. Television had proven to be a worthy distraction from the more difficult parts of his new life, but at the moment it couldn’t even do that, for there were heavier things weighing on the rat’s mind than simply remembering to gather food and wondering whether they would need to prepare for bad weather.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see his oldest sitting in the cramped corner that had been assigned to him. Raphael had brought his knees up to his chest, scowling as he hugged them, with his fists still covered in stray streaks of various colors. Just a few days ago, he had been sent to the corner for shoving Leonardo when he tried to get him to play tag with them. A day or so after that, he had been sentenced to the corner once more for stomping on one of Donatello’s gadgets - an act that still hadn’t been forgiven, since Donnie still refused to speak to him.

His latest misdeed was only half an hour ago, when Splinter had been dragged away from preparing lunch by a yelling pair of twins and a sobbing Michelangelo to the scene of the crime. In mere seconds, Raph had crushed all of Mikey’s chalk in his tiny yet strong hands, leaving them as nothing more than colorful crumbs on the stone floor.

Needless to say, something had to be done - and more time in the Naughty Corner just wasn’t going to cut it. Holding back another tired sigh, Splinter turned off the tv and walked over to his son. Raph’s scowl deepened, and he attempted to hide his face. Splinter raised a gentle hand and put it under Raph’s chin, lifting his face out of his knees.

“Why did you break Orange’s chalk?”

Raphael quickly gave his favorite answer. “I dunno.”

His father narrowed his eyes. “That is not an answer. Why did you break them?”

“I said I dunno!” the five year old snapped, baring his teeth. Splinter was VERY thankful his son hadn’t grown his adult snapper teeth yet, though his hand still retreated, just in case. But the rat wasn’t about to completely back down just yet.

“Why must we keep having these talks, Red Child?” Raph just growled, hiding his face once again. “If something is bothering you, you must tell me!” Splinter continued, scowling back at him, “You cannot keep acting like this. You cannot be a bully to your little brothers-!”

“I’m NOT a bully!” Raphael screamed back at his father’s face suddenly, “An’ I broke his crayons cause they were stupid, okay?!” With that, he turned the spikes on his shell towards Splinter and hid the rest of him against the wall.

Splinter pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore his oncoming headache. He knew that choosing to raise children - mutant turtle children, especially - would present plenty of problems and difficulties, but his oldest’s ever increasing temper tantrums were something else entirely!

“You will stay here for another ten minutes, understand?” Having nothing else to say, Splinter returned to his chair, though kept the tv off as to not give his son a chance to escape under the noise of a live studio audience. As the seconds ticked by, the boy’s growls and angry mutters turned to sniffling and quiet sobs - and just like that, Splinter felt his frustrations melt into heartache.

He had to fix this… He had to help his son.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Even while being only at the tender age of five, Raphael had done a ton of traveling in his life. Through abandoned alleyways and dark sewers, along train tracks and up and down piles of trash in dumps. Even after being lucky enough to finally find a home deep in New York’s sewer system, Raph still considered traveling to simply just be a part of his family’s life.

But that was the thing… His family’s life. He always traveled with his father and his dumb younger brothers. But now, it was just his father while his brothers got to stay home and sleep in. Splinter didn’t explain why, just that this was a trip for just the two of them. Raph didn’t think they were abandoning his brothers… Maybe Splinter was getting ready to abandon him, finally having enough of him being mean and naughty. Well fine, he didn’t need a papa anyway! He would be just fine by himself!

...Besides, if this place would be his new home, it didn’t seem like it’d be too bad. It was missing the usual smells from the dumps and alleyways, and it was much brighter even with the sun only just poking over the horizon. Pink skies shone light down on darkened trees while wet grass tickled at his feet. He remembered one night a few months ago when Splinter had first brought all of them to a similar looking place, calling it a ‘park’. He and his brothers had played there practically all night, but Raph knew that there would be no playing this time.

After a few more minutes of walking, Splinter finally stopped. He sat down, and then gestured for his son to do the same. Raph did so, if only to get off his feet for a bit. He still didn’t like the wet grass too much, how it stuck to his legs and his shell. But the light skies and the cool morning winds that gently brushed past his face helped him feel less antsy about it.

“Do you like this place?” Splinter asked him suddenly. Raph hesitated a moment before nodding. “I do as well… It is very quiet, and very relaxing.” Raph nodded again, though still scowled slightly, not quite understanding the point of all this.

Lifting his strong tail, Splinter wrapped it around his son’s shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. “Raphael,” he began, his voice strong. Raph clenched his fists, knowing very well by now that his papa only seemed to use their full names when he was really angry with them. He knew this trip wasn’t going to be fun! He just brought him out here to yell at him some more! He just-!

“I am sorry for calling you a bully.”

The young snapper blinked. He looked up, and saw the guilt in the old rat-man’s eyes. “I was frustrated with your behavior, but that was still wrong of me, and I am sorry.”

“...Okay,” Raph said quietly, not really sure what else to say.

“Always remember this, Raphael,” Splinter told him, his tone serious once more, “That even when you do bad things or make mistakes, you are not bad, and I will love you even when you do these things.”

Raph’s eyes widened a bit. “Really…? So, so you won’t ever get rid of me for bein’ bad?”

“Of course not!” His tail brought the boy in closer, and Raph didn’t hesitate to hold onto him, gripping the fabric of Splinter’s robe tightly. He was big enough for his head to fit in the crook of Splinter’s neck, but he still crouched down, wanting to feel small in his papa’s safe arms. “I did not get rid of you or your brothers when you were hatchlings, and I will not be doing so anytime soon! I love you, Big Red, no matter what you do.”

Raph sniffled at the pet name. “Okay, Papa… Okay…” He felt a soft hand pet his head a few times before hearing his father continue.

“However… While I will not abandon you for making mistakes or doing bad things, these things still must be dealt with. I brought you out here, Red, because I wanted you to feel relaxed enough to talk to me about the things that are making you angry, without worrying about your brothers hearing about it. So… Will you tell me? Will you tell Papa why you get so angry with your brothers and break their things?”

Raph didn’t answer right away, but Splinter had already figured that would be the case. Still, he didn’t push his son. He just continued to pet him and hold him close, until a small voice finally began to speak.

“I broke Mikey’s chalk cause they’re stupid,” Raph mumbled, repeating what he had said just a few hours before, “I try to draw with ‘em, and they always break… Everything they wanna play with breaks when I use ‘em, and then they get mad and then I get in trouble! Same goes with when I wanna play with them!” He started to growl, clenching his teeth. “I... I know I can’t be rough with Donnie ‘cause of his shell, but Leo and Mikey got regular shells and I still end up hurtin’ em whenever we play! An’ then I get mad, so I break more stuff an’ I don’t care about hurtin’ people, ‘cause it’s always gonna happen no matter what! I try not to, but it still happens!”

Splinter started to feel the front of his robe become damp, but he just held his son tighter, silently letting him know that it was okay. That he was okay. “Why do I have to be the biggest, Papa?” Raph cried, “Why do I have to be big and spiky and everything else small and break-y? It’s not fair! It’s not fair! ”

Splinter shushed Raph as he began to sob. “It will be alright, Red… I promise it will all work out.” Wanting to help calm him down, Splinter began to tell him stories of warriors as big and fierce as grizzly bears, and of samurai as tall and mighty as oak trees.  Stories of people as big and strong as Raphael, yet they didn’t break or smash or hurt. Instead, they saved .

By the time the sun had lifted itself above the green treetops, despite his cheeks still being damp and the occasional sniffle or two, Raph had started to think that maybe being big wasn’t so bad. “I wanna be like ‘em when I grow up,” he said quietly, still leaning on Splinter’s warm chest, “I wanna be like the warriors an’ the heroes… Be big enough to help.”

“You will be, Red Child,” Splinter told him, giving him another pat on the head, “And your brothers grow up too, become bigger and strong enough, and you’ll all have an easier time playing with each other.” Raph smiled a bit at the idea of that, being able to wrestling around with Leo and Mikey and being able to play with Donnie without worrying about hurting his soft shell. “But even then, you must remember that you are the oldest of your brothers. You still must protect them, just as they will protect you, and you definitely shouldn't use your strength against them in order to force them to do what you want. Family must always look after each other, and it is the oldest’s job to practice that, so that the younger members of his family can follow in example.”

The young snapper thought about this carefully before looking back up at his papa. “D’you think I could be a good big brother?”

“Absolutely,” Splinter answered with a warm smile. Raph grinned back at him, giving him another hug. Though, as they began walking back to the manhole they came up through, Raph’s smile faltered a bit.

“What if I still get mad, Pop?” he asked, “What if I get mad an’ I hurt my brothers or break their stuff, even though I don’t mean it?”

Splinter hummed, stroking his chin. “Perhaps… Perhaps, we can find a way for you to control your strength while we wait for your brothers to catch up…”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Two days after their ‘Raph and Papa Only’ trip, as Raph had called it when his brothers had asked, Raph found himself being taken to his room rather than the Naughty Corner before he had a chance to crush the toy car that he had stepped on. There, he was presented with… With…

“Chopsticks?” Raph raised an eyebrow. “But Pop, I already ate, an’ I hate using those things anyway! Hands are wayyyy better to eat with!”

Splinter gave a small smirk as he shook his head. “No, Red, these are not chopsticks, please do not eat with them. ...Or eat them.” His oldest definitely had a habit of sticking things in his mouth, just to have something to munch on. “These are knitting needles. People use them to create clothes such as scarves, hats, sweaters, and even blankets.”

“Really?” Raph eyed the needles. How could two little sticks create all those things?! It was impossible!

“Yes, really. And that is what you are going to do.” Hidden within the sleeves of his robe, Splinter produced a package of red yarn (Raph smiled at the fact that they were using his favorite color, even if he was still confused) and a worn book titled “Knitting for Beginners”.

“But why do I gotta knit?” Raph asked, picking up the needles and clenching them together tightly. The needles began to crack slightly in his strong grip, causing Raph to scowl. He couldn’t make anything with dumb knitting needles, they were just another thing for him to break…

Splinter however was far from discouraged. “These will help you control your strength, as well as your temper. Knitting takes patience and time, and if you can master it, then you will be on your way to becoming a master of those things as well, my son.”

“A master…” Raph furrowed his brow, setting the needles down. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I’m bad at knitting and ruin all the yarn.”

“Then we will find something else to help you,” Splinter said suddenly, “But let us try to knit before we look for something else, alright?” “Fiiiine…”

For the next several weeks, Splinter would spend around two hours a day with Raphael, pouring over the details and tips from the knitting handbook while his son tried his hardest to knit. For the most part, Raph actually wasn’t too bad at it, being able to concentrate and not get too caught up on the occasional dropped stitch.

Unfortunately, this didn’t stop him from breaking at least one needle each session, but rather than scolding him for it, Splinter simply taped the tool up or replaced it within a few days if the damage was severe enough. Even while still feeling a bit guilty about it, the lack of pressure did allow Raph to relax a bit more, which led to fewer broken needles. Despite their occasional destructiveness, he found that he liked working with his hands, finding new ways to position them as he used them to create rather than just smash or hit.

After two months, Raph had completed a pair of red, three-fingered gloves. They weren’t as perfect as the pictures in the book, but they were still wearable. They were still his, and that was enough.

“Whoaaaa!” Leo said in awe, spotting them on his big brother’s hands as soon as he walked into the tv room, “Where’d you find those?”

“I didn’t, I made ‘em,” Raph answered proudly, “All by myself!” “Wowwwww!”

“Yes. Very nice, Red,” Splinter added, looking away from the screen and giving the gloves an approving nod, making his son beam.

“Yeah! But why’d you wanna make gloves?” Leo asked, “Seems like kind’a a weird thing to make.”

“‘Cause I was mad about steppin’ on your car,” Raph replied, shrugging, “but I made these instead of breaking the car.”

“Oh, whoops...” Leo winced slightly, remembering the short scolding he had gotten that day about leaving his toys out. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine, I’m not mad about it anymore.”

“Good, and thanks for not breakin’ it.” After admiring the gloves a bit more, Leo smiled. “You wanna go play now?”

Raph gave a toothy grin. “Yeah! Let’s go!”

The boys quickly scurried off, leaving their content - and very proud - father alone in his chair. Naturally, he still kept an ear out for crying or yelling, but it wasn’t until it was time to gather his sons up for supper did he have to get out of his chair. Not a toy was broken that night.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Most would be worried about leaving a four year old to their own devices, but Splinter was not one of those parents. Not because he didn’t care about the safety of his youngest, certainly not, but because he knew just how attached Michelangelo was to his older brothers, who would be sure to keep him out of trouble just as long as they stayed out of trouble themselves. And, if something was truly wrong, Splinter would definitely know about it, no matter how far away his orange son was.

Hence the loud wail that had Splinter out of his chair within seconds. Sometimes Splinter wondered if Mikey knew just how loud he could be. Frankly, it would not surprise him if people on the streets above and on the other side of the city could hear him…

But while a loud cry had made him move, a single phrase made him stop, just before reaching the playroom:

“I’m sorry!”

When only silence followed this, Splinter peeked inside, getting a full view of the situation while still using his ninja skills to stay out of sight. He could see Raph looking down at a broken toy train, but all Raph could see, even as he kept his eyes glued to the floor, was the expressions on his brothers’ faces. Mikey’s tear filled eyes, and Leo and Donnie’s frowns - with the latter looking more angry than hurt, which made sense considering that he had found the toy.

“I, I was just tryin’ to play with it,” Raph explained, “But I played too rough, an’ one of the wheels just popped off.” He clenched his fists a bit, though his expression stayed calm. “I didn’t mean to break it, an’ I tried to put it back on, but it wouldn’t go back on! So I threw it… and I threw it too hard.” Looking his brothers right in the eyes now, Raph let his guilt be known. “I was mad… But I still shouldn’t have thrown it. And the rest I didn’t mean to do. But I’m still really sorry. So… yeah.”

The twins exchanged a look, their own expressions softening just a little. But before either of them could say anything, Mikey rushed forward. Even being nearly half the size of Raph, Mikey still managed to wrap his arms halfway around him in a tight hug. “‘S’okay, Raphie,” he said, “I know you sorry, an’ s’okay. Don’t be sad, okay?”

“We know you didn’t mean it,” Leo added, giving Raph a small smile, “We’ll just fine stronger toys for all of us to play with, ones that never ever break!”

“And... I guess I could teach you how to fix the toys that do break,” Donnie offered, “If you wanna help.”

“...” Despite the unshed tears in his eyes, Raph smiled and nodded at them both. “Yeah… That sounds good.”

“You guys hug too!” Mikey demanded, and the twins both chuckled, happily obliging while Raph’s smile grew. Once the impromptu group hug ended, Donnie ran to the toy box to grab the small tools he had stashed away for situations such as these while Leo told a silly train joke he had heard on some cartoon show, easily making his red and orange brothers laugh.

And as he watched his oldest carefully take the tools, using the skills he had gotten from months of knitting to keep his hands steady and his grip not too firm while his other children gathered around their brother to give help and support, Splinter quickly decided that neither he nor Raphael had anything to worry about.

And as time went on and all the things that his father had promised began coming true, Raph decided this as well. Knitting became another one of the constants in his life, even as he himself grew bigger and stronger. Each new garment turned out better than the last, and by his tenth birthday, knitting wasn’t just an exercise in controlling his anger and strength, but a well-loved hobby!

His brothers grew up as well, all of them growing closer as they played and learned together. Once all of them began learning martial arts thanks to the discovery of Lou Jitsu movies and months of begging their father to teach them, they also all became great sparring partners. Sure, Raph still had to pull a few of his punches, not wanting to accidentally send any of his siblings through a wall, but no longer did he have to worry about making any of them cry just by shoving them, and together they were all able to begin the journey of becoming awesome ninjas.

Soon enough, strength truly became a symbol of, well, strength! Of being able to fight off bad guys, of being able to protect the ones he cared about the most. Once Splinter finally allowed them to go off into the city without his supervision, Raphael wore the title of protector and leader with pride. ‘Look out, NYC,’ he remembered thinking as he guided them all out of the sewers, ‘Big Brother Warrior Raph is comin’ for ya!’

Of course, even with all this positive change, Raph still occasionally felt his anger just below his surface. When he still accidentally broke something, as if he was still an accident prone five year old, or when his brothers annoyed him to the point where he actually did want to shove them through a wall.  When he frustrated with being a mutant in a human world, or when something went wrong despite his best efforts to make them go right, or when he was just feeling angry in general and didn’t really know why.

Thankfully, just like how his father knew just what to do all those years ago, the rest of his family seemed to know how to help.

Donnie kept a collection of cracked beakers and gadgets damaged beyond repair in his lab, and when the time called for it, he and Raph would take them all and just smash them against the wall. It was a bit embarrassing to admit, but smashing stuff was still a pretty good release. Thankfully, Donnie never judged him for it - ‘Who knows, maybe he gets somethin’ out of it too,’ Raph would sometimes think - and the two of them would still end up talking things out as they swept up the mess.

Exercise was another way to get that release, though sometimes lifting weights or striking a punching bag just wasn’t enough. Leon, being the fastest of them, naturally would challenge Raph to a race through the sewers or a dozen spars in the dojo when his older brother was feeling particularly angry. He was more than happy to help tire Raph out as he worked through his emotions, just as he was happy to provide refreshing drinks and a shoulder to lean on afterwards.

Mikey’s solution was similar to Leo’s. Buried deep under the rest of his art and crafting supplies were several Jupiter Jim coloring books, each of them partially filled with plenty of pages left to go. He’d always bring these out, along with several plates of homemade snacks, whenever Raph needed a stress coloring session. As childish as it might have seemed, it was almost comforting in a way, just lying on the floor and coloring for as long as he needed to while his youngest brother talked about whatever. The fact that Mikey never even scowled at him when he accidentally snapped off the tip of a pencil or a crayon also helped.

Even Splinter, even after doing so much for him already, still offered to help when Raph’s anger nearly reached his limits. They’d have one-on-one wrestling matches, with Raph finding comfort in how impossible it seemed to knock his father down no matter how many attacks he threw at him. A pillar of true strength, as far as Raph was concerned. And, when it wasn’t a fight he needed in order to work things out, then Splinter would instead provide him with listening ears, honest words, and a warm cup of black tea.

It really was just as Splinter had promised that morning. Things really did work out in the end. His family loved him, no matter what he did or what emotions he had, and they were always willing to help. Even if his feelings were his own, Raph would never be alone, and he would be forever grateful for that.

...But even so, sometimes old habits were the best ones.

Still scowling, he dug through his basket of yarn. His hand touched a ball of pink yarn, and he quickly threw it against the wall of his bedroom. He definitely didn’t need anything pink tonight… Instead, he grabbed the green yarn and began knitting away. He growled slightly when he dropped two threads in a row, but kept his hands steady, resisting the urge to form them into fists. Instead, he took a deep breath and kept on it, listening to the click of his needles and letting his mind wander away from the fight he and his brothers had gotten into just a couple hours ago.

He was about halfway through his impromptu scarf when he heard a gentle knock at the door. “Hey, big guy,” April greeted, giving him a gentle smile.

Despite it all, Raph smiled back at his sister. “Hey… What are you doin’ here?”

“Well I was gonna hang, but the guys said you could maybe use some company? ...Said that you had kind of a rough night tonight?”

Raph scowled, though not at April. ‘Rough’ was certainly one way to describe it… Meatsweats had gotten his hands on a couple of strength-increasing mutants, which was giving him a huge advantage in his so called 'hunts'. Raph had been the one to accidentally lead them into such a one-sided fight, which in turn lead to all of them getting beaten up pretty badly.

But while they were able to free the rest of Meatsweats’ captured prey, making that part of Raph’s plan a success at least, the bad guy had still managed to get away even with their best efforts. Naturally, his brothers were just as frustrated with this, complaining about the mostly-failed mission most of the way home. So, not wanting to start a fight or bother them as they patched themselves up, Raph ended up isolating himself the moment they got home, lest he end up getting into a screaming match with one of them. Though, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be alone for much longer.

“You wanna talk about it?” April asked, and watched her friend think about it before shaking his head. Tonight was just a bad night, and he wanted to forget about it as soon as possible, at least for right now. “Okay. Can I still chill here for a while?” That time, Raph nodded, not taking nearly as much time to answer. So, April took a seat next to him on his bed. She gently rubbed his shell as he worked, expertly avoiding the spikes and helping him fall back into a relaxed mindset - one that didn’t involve mutant pig-chefs or nearly suffocating thoughts of self doubt.

It took another hour before he finished the scarf, releasing a long sigh once he finally did. “It looks good,” April told him. He smiled warmly at the compliment and handed the scarf to her. She ran her fingers over the soft yarn as she wrapped it around her neck. She’d already gotten several scarfs from the snapper over the years, along with a couple sweaters and some fingerless gloves, but as far as she concerned, there was no limit on the amount of comfy homemade knitted-wear a person could have. “Thanks… So, you feelin’ better?”

“Yeah,” Raph admitted, though his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes, “I’m relaxed at least. Still kinda pissed though… I know I’ll get a rematch with him eventually but, it’s hard just waitin’ around, you know? Waitin’ to make up for a bad fight, or a bad plan…”

April patted him on the shoulder. “...Central Park seemed pretty deserted when I rode past it, and I doubt anyone’s out there at-” she checked her phone. “2:37 AM. You wanna go take a walk? Maybe grab some convenience store pizza afterwards?”

Raph’s smile grew a bit. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he could already feel the cool grass under his feet and the light wind in the air. “Yeah, that sounds nice… Thanks, April.”

“No problem, Raph,” she smiled back, squeezing his hand, “Anytime.”

Even before they reached the surface, Raph could feel the last of his anger and frustration fading away, allowing his heavy steps to feel light without anything weighing them down. Of course, these feelings would come back soon enough, and as annoying as that would be, Raph wasn’t afraid of them. He’d face them head on, just as he did with any other obstacle in his way. Things would work out in the end. Things would be alright.

As long as he had his family, their encouraging and supportive words, and a couple of spare knitting needles and some yarn at the ready, he knew he really would be just fine, anger issues and all.

THE END

[sleazygoing]

ok but here’s some stuff about vernon kennedy’s oldest kid Indiana, who is a dipshit;

indiana miller. 25ish but baby-faced. cis male. prom-night baby. he’s 5′7′’ and has that scrawny build that got him bullied at school but also means his metabolism is fine with living off cap’n crunch and marijuana. he’s got his mom’s brown eyes and his dad’s nose back before the coke. he won’t wear anything that isn’t black and slightly too small. also he calls everything ‘gay’… despite having three queer parents.

he lives in cali with his 2 moms. they used to own a dope farm but now they’re in a nice suburban house with a kiln in the yard and make $500+ avant garde pottery. their dipshit son indiana dwells in the garage in a veritable bachelor cave featuring a beat-up couch, lame posters duct-taped to the walls, and a traffic cone bong that WILL make you vomit off of one hit.

he’s the bass guitarist and (extremely poor) lyricist for a very bad punk band. incredibly, they still haven’t settled on a definitive name yet because they’re too busy fighting. they briefly had a nu metal phase. they also briefly had a folk punk phase. it’s a fucking shitshow really. they’re very…. noisy. they’re perpetually having a musical identity crisis. despite being together since high school and having some pretty dope equipment sponsored by the bank of dad, they have yet to even finish their first album. the creative process largely involves arguing at great length about irrelevant shit like which teenage mutant ninja turtle is coolest. they’ve written iconic songs such as ‘God Is Pissing In My Eyes’ and ‘Banned From Dollar General: The Reckoning’. apparently they ‘transcend sound’. they’ll never make it any further than lame house shows. in the future, the band will piss itself out and indiana and the drummer will go on to start a bad amateur radio show with a small but pretty dedicated following. vernon is gonna be so hyped. i mean he already is, but, his son, on the fucking radio? fuck yeah.

personality-wise, indiana has next to nothing in common with his old man beyond a tendency to make not the best life choices. he’s pretty introverted and kind of an edgelord really. total smart-ass. class clown at school. perpetual slacker-offer. and did somebody say fragile masculinity? he’s working on it but he’s immature and has trouble talking to chicks he likes. he’s never had a girlfriend and might not, ever. he has no ambition at all. he smokes enough weed that performing basic tasks is quite a lot of effort. he thinks he’s stickin it to the man by refusing to get a real job ever since he got fired from hot topic for being too stoned.

his parents raised him with some pretty lax discipline and shit and uh… it kinda shows. as a kid he tended to do lame rebellious shit for attention and then got mad when it didn’t get a reaction. one time in high school he got a nose ring to be edgy and then threatened to run away from home because his parents were like ‘aw cool that’s dope’ instead of grounding him for it. he infamously got suspended from school one time for wearing a shirt that says ‘fuck’ on it. he recently got his first (legit) tattoo and it’s a wizard ripping a bong.

his hobbies and interests include smoking 10 blunts a day, stealing road signs/shopping carts/anything else lying around that might inconvenience someone, d&d, graffiti, the dumb conspiracy theories, watching TV for a minimum of 6 hours a day, and generally being a nuisance. fortunately his anxiety disorder prevents him from committing any major crimes but he did get arrested and spent the night in the drunk tank once. they let him go because he cried and it’s technically not a crime to attempt to make a crop circle.

him and his dad don’t exactly see eye-to-eye sometimes. vernon skipped town before indiana was even born because he was stealing motel TVs and definitely not prepared to be a father, came back into his life with some regularity and a shitton of money from slinging coke, and then got locked up for nine years as soon as kiddo got used to it. indiana wouldn’t even call his dad ‘dad’ until fairly recently. they’re working on it. vernon makes his cameo appearances around the holidays. he’s kinda gone from ‘disappointing dad’ to ‘embarrassing dad’, and he can live with that. they talk on the phone with some regularity now, usually late at night and about total bullshit. vernon is very proud of him.

[undyingguppywarrior]

Another Day Chapter 2

Undyne’s footsteps could be heard echoing through the caverns of waterfall as she was sprinting full speed on her way to school. She darted around every corner at high speeds at least for an eight-year-old. As she continued the route, she normally takes she could hear some talking up ahead and slowed down to a jogging speed not wanting to run into anyone. She would look out for the sounds for the voices only to see a couple monsters on a lower path of Waterfall. Upon a closer look she could see her best and nerdiest friend Alphys who seemed to be hanging out with Diamond Receptionist. As she was making her way by, she couldn’t help, but hear some of the conversation that was happening which caused her to come to a dead stop. “Come on you nerd just had over your homework and I’ll leave you alone.” It seemed that the only thing that was happening was bullying “I-I just don’t think it f-fair for you to t-take my homework.” Undyne knew very well her friend didn’t like confrontation which led to her never standing up for herself “M-Maybe I could just h-help you w-with your own hom-“ The monster was then interrupted by the diamond shaped one “Look I’m making this easy for you so just hand it over.”

 By this point the Undyne was done watching and choose now was the time to intervene “Why don’t you just leave her alone diamond head!” the young guppy yelled while sliding down the hill followed by jumping off near the end and landing quite loudly between the two monsters making them both jump back “U-Undyne? I didn’t notice you nearby. We were just having a chat is all.” The diamond monster was now clearly nervous given the fact that Undyne was already known for her absurd physical and magical strength “More like you were bullying my best friend. If I ever catch you doing this again then you’ll be my target practice understand?” the young guppy then stomped the ground leaving some small cracks to show she meant business “O-Of course Undyne. It won’t happen again.” Just like that Undyne had Diamond Receptionist running away in a hurry “T-Thank you Undyne. You don’t always h-have to defend me.” The yellow monster spoke shyly as she felt bad for troubling her friend once again for her lack of courage “Don’t be silly Alphys. As your best friend it’s my job to make sure you aren’t pushed around and it’s what a Royal Guard would do. Next time you need to stand your ground, look your foe dead in their eye, and let them know you won’t be pushed around!” Undyne was trying to give her friend the confidence and courage to face her fears head on “I-I’ll try, though we should g-get to school before we’re l-late.” The young guppy then remembered that she was on her way to school “Right then I’ll get us there in no time and you can help with my training!” the younger monster was now fueled with a drive to get both of them there on time “How can I-I help?” suddenly Undyne picked up Alphys and began running towards school at to speed

Within moments both of the young monsters were at their destination with Undyne having worked up quite a sweat. Turns out sprinting full force and carrying another monster was more challenging that she thought, but the young guppy had made it so to her she won. She then set down Alphys who looked very dizzy “T-Thanks for the lift U-Undyne.” The yellow monster said in a haze still trying to recover “Don’t mention it bestie. Just remember what I said and don’t let any monsters push you around.” The young guppy said while giving the other a hard pat on the back. After that they went their separate ways as Alphys was in more advanced classes given how smart she is. The young monster made her way to her first class which was basic mathematics. Lucky for her she had no homework assigned yesterday from this class, though there was that test from the other day. As the teacher started handing the monsters back her test Undyne wasn’t really wanting to see her as she normally scored low, though soon enough hers was handed back. She slowly turned it over and was shocked to be revealed with a C+ along with a note which read ‘Excellent job Undyne!’ which made her give a small smile. This was her best grade yet in this class even if the score was still low compared to other monsters. After spending a little over an hour and a half in math the bell rang and she went to her next class which was science with Dr. Gaster. She always hated this class as the doctor always was the hardest on her and whenever she said something about it, she always got the excuse that it was because she had such potential and all that other stuff that adults say. Lucky for her Dr. Gaster had a headache so he just put on a video which they took notes on

She then went through history, social studies, and arts class before finally magic training came up which was of course her favorite class. It was the class she excelled at the most given her natural ability in magic as well as her high physical strength. She stepped onto the gym floor wearing her normal black tank top and a pair of shorts. The best part was the couch was none other than her mentor (slash father figure) Gerson “Alright listen up you youngsters. Today we’ll be taking it easy with a game of dodge ball.” The old turtle spoke with in a raspy voice showing just how old he was. Undyne normally accept whatever Gerson threw her way, but a simple game of dodge ball wasn’t intense enough for her “Can I be on a team by myself Coach?” all the other younger monsters turned to look at the young guppy and while most would laugh at such a thing all of them knew that Undyne wasn’t one to take lightly even if she wanted to be on a team alone

The old turtle stroked his chin thinking about it before giving his answer “Alright, but let’s have a clean match here. No below the belt, no magic, and no trash talking.” All the young monsters agreed to the terms and each took a side of the court with Undyne alone on one side and the rest on the other. The young guppy sized up the other team which had thirteen monsters in total while waiting for Gerson to blow the whistle and start the game. It was clear that all the other monsters were nervous about facing the young guppy, but some had confidence that their numbers could take her down. There was a long minute with no one making a move until finally the sound of the whistle was heard. Just as the monsters took one step towards the dodge balls Undyne was already far ahead of them and had claimed two only to chuck them full force and nailing two targets who didn’t even have a chance to dodge and managed to grab one more before the other team made it to the dodge balls. They all threw their dodge balls at Undyne at the same time which seemed like a good idea on paper, but the young guppy easily dodged most of them and deflected the others with the one in her hand. This gave the young fish monster control of most of the dodge balls

Undyne then stomped on the ground causing several of the dodge balls to go into mid air and just as quickly she kick or punched them at the enemy team each on hitting a target knocking out five more opponents leaving six more left. The six remaining monsters were now on guard looking for any openings, though one cracked under the pressure and simply threw wildly at the guppy who simply caught the ball with one hand while letting out a yawn at the monster who she just took out. The five monsters left all threw their dodge balls at random times, though Undyne simple dodged them all. She then the two dodge balls in her hands with each hitting before bouncing off and hitting the same monster leaving only two more. One of her remaining foes left was Diamond Receptionist who was shaking by this point. The diamond monster then gathered whatever courage she had left and threw her dodge ball only for the fish monster to dodge with a roll, pick up a dodge ball in the process, and throw it hitting the monster full force and knocking her flat on her back. The last monster that remained was none other than her friend Alphys to which she simply walked close to the line that separated the teams where the yellow monster stood on the other side and lightly tossed a dodge ball taking her out. Alphys let out a grateful smile that Undyne let her off easy, though that’s what the young guppy always did “Well it looks like Undyne was won the game. You young monsters can either rest or do some light exercises.” Hearing that all the monsters who just faced Undyne’s wrath choose to take it easy and rest while Undyne herself began to do full sprints around the gym.

Soon the bell rang thus ending the school day “Alright you youngsters. It’s time for you to head home. You all did a good job in today’s game and remember there is no losing only learning.” With that all the monsters went to the lockers, changed into their regular clothes, and began walking out of the school building. Almost all the monsters had their parents waiting for them while some were old enough to walk home alone. Undyne was going to talk to her friend Alphys, but saw she was busy talking to her parents and figured it’d be best to head on home. As she turned to leave, she found the yellow lizard suddenly cut her off “I-I’m glad I caught you before y-you left. I want to t-thank you for helping m-me today so h-here.” Alphys held out what appeared to be today's homework and the guppy quickly realized what her friend was trying to do. Undyne simply shook her head and pushed the homework back to the yellow lizard “Thanks for the offer Alphys, but I won’t get anywhere if I let people do work for me. To be part of the Royal Guard means you give everything your all and accomplish everything with your own determination.” It seemed the young guppy wasn’t going to accept the offer “Now I better get going or I’ll be behind on my training. Catch ya later Alphys.” With that the young fish monster walked off leaving the yellow lizard feeling let down that her help was rejected, but was more inspired by the small speech. As Undyne walked away from the school she could see Diamond Receptionist and some other monsters looking at her as they spoke. The young guppy simply shot them a look which caused the small group to rush off “Just another day I guess.”

[marvelous-heroimagines]

Secret Identities

Requested by: Anonymous (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Fluff, fighting

A/N: Changed the way they tell each other, I hope that’s okay!

“You heading to Gwen’s party Saturday night?” your long time best friend, Peter, asks after swallowing his mouthful of PB&J sandwich.

You shrug, “I don’t know,”

“What? Why?” Peter says, his voice raising an octave and his eyebrows shooting up.

Your stomach clenches, and you try to quickly think of a lie, “I... Uh... I’ve got too much homework,”

Peter frowns, “As if! No one has homework, we’re graduating next week,”

“Today’s our last day,” Ned adds, making Peter nod enthusiastically.

Your cheeks flush, knowing you’d been caught in your stupid lie, “Guess I can make it then,” you mumble.

You didn’t like keeping things from Peter, the two of you told each other everything. But this secret wasn’t something that you could just tell him about on your regular Friday movie nights. You couldn’t just casually bring up the fact you were dressing up in a dodgy, hand sewn costume and fighting crime at night. More than not knowing how to tell him your secret, you knew that once he found out, he wouldn’t be safe. Bad guys tried to hurt you every night, and you couldn’t live with yourself if they somehow got to Peter.

You loved your best friend in more than a platonic way. The two of you had been inseparable since you saved him from bullies in kindergarten. But it wasn’t until last year that you realised you loved Peter as more than a brother. You’d kept your secret vigilante work and your crush a secret from him, not wanting to ruin the friendship or put him in danger. It was hard, keeping both from him, but it was for his safety.

“You still coming over tonight?” you ask Peter and Ned,

“I can’t,” Ned sighs, “My mum is insisting our family goes to dinner to celebrate,”

You nod, trying to keep cool. This was the fourth Friday in a row that Ned had an excuse to miss movie night. You were growing suspicious, you didn’t mind spending time alone with Peter - the two of you hung out alone regularly - but you were finding it harder to keep your secrets to yourself, and you were worried that Ned not being there would tempt you too tell Peter everything.

“I’m coming,” Peter says excitedly, grinning at you, “Your house, at 8?”

“I’m picking the movie,” you announce, “You can pick the snacks,”

Peter’s eyes linger on you, and you can’t tear your gaze away. The ringing of the bell suddenly makes you jump, pulling you out of your trance.

As if it were fate, your parents had decided to go on a date night, which meant that you and Peter would be entirely alone in your house tonight. You toyed with the idea of finally being honest with him; well, semi honest. You consider telling him about the feelings you harbour for him. But the longer you think about it, the more you realise that it’s too risky. You would just have to shove the feelings down and try to act natural.

Sitting in your room, you try to pass the time by reading a book, but you can’t seem to keep your mind off the police scanner that was hidden in your wardrobe. Your father was a police officer, and with a little research, you were able to bring one of his old, broke scanners back to life. It made your vigilante job a hell of a lot easier, and meant that you didn’t need to be out all night waiting for crimes to stop.

Unable to concentrate on anything, you pull it out and turn it on. You’d told yourself not to get distracted by crime tonight, to act as if you were a normal teenager and enjoy movie night, but after 6 months of fighting crime and having your powers it was becoming a habit to let the vigilante life take over.

You spend the next 45 minutes intently listening to the scanner, trying to catch any kind of robbery or assault in progress. It was almost 8pm, and that Peter would be at your front door in any second, so you decide to force yourself to put the police scanner away and go downstairs. But just as you’re about to turn it off, a call comes across; detailing a robbery at a restaurant nearby.

Before you can even think, you’re grabbing your turtle neck and hoodie out of your wardrobe. You didn’t have a costume, unlike the other vigilante that was helping to keep the city safe, but you hide your identity the best you could.

Just as you’re pulling your turtle neck over your mouth and nose, your phone buzzes on your bed. Guilt strikes you as you finally remember movie night. But, you had a text message from Peter.

I’m going to be late, sorry. May is insisting we have a meal at home to celebrating graduation. I can probably be at yours in an hour or so?

A wave of relief washes over you. You’d have time to be the hero and spend time with Peter without telling him your secret. You quickly type back a message, trying to make it sound like you’d be waiting around for him, before pulling your hoodie up and climbing out your window.

The restaurant that was being robbed was maybe 20 minutes away from your parent’s apartment block, but your powers allowed you to get there in under 5. Just over 6 months ago, you’d discovered your powers; super strength. You weren’t any faster than you were before, but your strength meant that you could jump far, and you utilised the high rooftops to stay out of sight.

You arrive at the restaurant and take a deep breath to ready yourself as you assess the situation inside. There were 4 masked robbers, and it looked like about 30 hostages, including staff. You had to be careful, you didn’t want any innocents to get hurt.

You’re about to run into the restaurant when a voice sounds beside you.

“Hello, again,” Spiderman says, making you jump after silently appearing next to you. You can’t help but smile. You’d run into the hero a few times since starting your vigilante work, and the two of you seemed to work together better every time you had the chance,

“Can’t you find your own robberies?” you quip. He can’t see your smirk, but he chuckles,

“What can I say? I enjoy working with you,” he shrugs.

The two of you glance at each other, and nod before darting into the restaurant.

While you and Spiderman were seeming to work better together than the first time, it was still a little clumsy. You tried to follow his lead, knowing that he’d been at this longer than you, but sometimes he didn’t know what he was doing either.

The two of you are able to keep the hostages safe, and lead them to an exit. You both take on two robbers each, Spiderman taking the ones with the guns. You go hand-to-hand with the other two, and are able to take them both out within a few minutes.

The sound of a bullet being fired makes you whip around, Spiderman had dodged it, but was looking a little out of his depths. He takes out one of the robbers, but the other one was free to aim right for his head. You jump into action and descend on the robber before he can get a shot off.

Fighting against a robber with a gun was more daunting that you’d thought, and Spiderman jumps in to help. He pulls the robber back, and you take your chance to punch the robber hard, instantly knocking him out.

“I could’ve taken him,” Spiderman notes, and you smirk under your turtle neck,

“Okay, tough guy,” you retort.

The sudden sound of sirens make the two of you whip your heads around, “We better go,” Spiderman states.

You don’t even reply, just run through the restaurant and out the back, into the night.

You make it back to your house just in time. Peter said he’d be around at 9 or so, and it was exactly 9pm. You stumble in through your bedroom window and quickly strip off your turtle neck and hoodie. Pulling on a tshirt, you hear a knock from your front door.

Your heart starts racing but you try to calm yourself down. You were still on an adrenaline rush from your vigilante work, but you had to push that aside right now, you couldn’t seem different to Peter.

“I’m coming,” you call out, another knock having sounded as you come down the stairs.

Ripping open the front door, you smile at Peter instantly, unable to keep the joy from your face the moment you see him. You notice that Peter is looking a little flustered, but ignore it.

“How was dinner?” you ask as he wanders inside,

“What?” he blurts out, “Oh... Yeah, good,” he mumbles. You frown in confusion, “What movie did you pick?”

He’d caught you off guard. You hadn’t picked a movie, too busy fighting criminals, “Uh...” you desperately try to think, “Whiplash?” it was the first film you thought of,

“Again?” he groans out. You try to hide your mistake by just smiling and nodding at him,

“Snacks?” you realise he wasn’t holding anything.

Peter’s cheeks flush, and his eyes shoot wide, “Shit... I forgot,”

You roll your eyes at your best friend, “Go grab something,” you sigh and nod towards the kitchen.

You and Peter had had a pretty regular movie night. Your parents had come home after 10pm, and Peter had left after the movie was done.

As you got ready for Gwen’s party, you had to force yourself not to get the police scanner out. You successfully didn’t cave to your temptation, but you were still late to the party.

You wander in, the party already in full swing, and glance around for your friends. You spot Ned and Peter in the corner, red cups in their hands and looking out of place.

“Hey Y/N,” Ned greets you as you wander up to the boys. Peter hands you a red cup, and glancing inside it looked to be some kind of punch,

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s good,” Peter informs you. You nod and take a sip. He was right.

“Damn, Y/N,” a voice sounds behind you. Turning around you see Flash, the most popular boy in school ogling you with his eyes,

“Hey Flash,” you mumble. You didn’t like Flash, unlike the rest of the girls at school who lusted after him. You didn’t think there was anything great about him, he was an arsehole,

“Who knew you scrubbed up so good?” he slurred, clearly drunk. In a flash, his arm is wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling you closer. Your hands immediately press against his chest, trying to create as much space as possible.

You nervously laugh, not wanting to say something that would cause his drunken flirtation to turn into aggression. Flash doesn’t stop, only pulling you closer. You knew that you could throw him across the room in the blink of an eye, but that would mean exposing yourself.

“Hey!” Peter shouts, suddenly beside you. Peter’s nostrils flare as he stares at Flash, “Leave her alone,”

“Or what?” Flash scoffs, still holding you. Peter stays silent, and Flash finally lets go of you and turns to face Peter, “What? You got some kind of monopoly on her or something?”

“No, it’s just-” Peter starts, but he’s stopped when Flash’s fist connects with his face. Everyone around gasps and falls silent.

Flash grabs Peter’s shirt, raising a fist to hit him again. You can’t stop yourself from grabbing Flash’s raised fist. You exert enough strength for him to grunt in pain, but not enough to break anything. Flash turns to you, his eyes wide with confusion. He lets Peter’s shirt go, and you release his wrist. He glares at you as he stumbles away, rubbing the bruise that already forming on his wrist.

“Oh god,” you breathe out as you see that Peter’s eye is puffing up, “Come on,” you lead him away, “Ned, can you get him some ice please?” you call over your shoulder.

You lead Peter into a bedroom, and thank Ned as he hands you a tea towel full of ice before softly closing the door. Silence hangs in the air as you force Peter to sit on the bed and hand him the ice.

“You’re an idiot,” you chuckle, shaking your head. Peter rolls his eyes and you sit tentatively on the bed, feeling the tension in the room growing,

“I could’ve taken him,” Peter mumbles. Your breathing stops as the words hit you. You knew that voice. How didn’t you realise it before. You decide to try something,

“Okay, tough guy,” you drawl out, your eyes searching Peter’s. His eyes slowly grow wide, his mouth falling open a little, “You’re-”

“You’re-” you and Peter say at the same time, the truth dawning on you both,

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, your voice high and shrill,

“I didn’t want to put you in danger!” he reasons, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger,” you mimic. You and Peter suddenly burst out laughing, realising how stupid your reasons had  been.

“God, if I’d known” Peter whispers, mostly to himself,

“What would you have done?” you question, the curiosity getting the better of you,

“Probably acted on my feelings,” Peter laughs, but the humour doesn’t reach his eyes. They’re searching yours.

Your stomach flips as you stare back. Peter felt the same. You don’t even think as you lean forward and kiss your best friend. Peter drops the ice and a hand snakes around your head to pull you closer. Your hands slide up to cup his face.

Peter pulls back with a hiss, worrying you. The eye that had been hit squinted closed.

“Sorry,” you say through a giggle,

“I can handle it,” he dismisses before kissing you again.

Tags: @leahhavoc, @rosyfluffyprincess, @addictwithafandomblog, @klutzly, @redstarstan, @heismyhunter, @coffeeismylife28, @hantu369mc, @goldenlifevsgutter1996, @impala-moose, @buckyobsessed, @buckyandsebsinbin, @aboveaverage-fangirl, @plumsforbuck2016, @meep-meep22, @caitsymichelle13, @pleasefixthepain, @spn-worm, @specs15, @sebstanwassup, @wunnywho, @girlwith100names, @thedarknesswarrior, @melconnor2007, @ipaintmelodies, @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked, @potterjamesharry

Tags that didn’t work: @invisible2niall, @mo320, @addictionmarvel

[glopratchet]

egg-drop

As soon as your mother sees you, she rushes over and embraces you in a tight hug You return it of course, it's been months since you last saw her or any of your other family members for that matter "You've grown so much!" She exclaims while holding both of your arms out to see Your father laughs and pats you hard on the back nearly breaking your balance Your other siblings greet you in a similar manner, never really having been an affectionate family, physical touch is rare Your younger brother Eron mentions that he thought you would definitely not be coming back You and your friends fill them in on what happened as they refilled their plates and cups with food and drink " "Oh thank the waters that you're home safe! ~Deaths Door: Chapter 1~ You shift your eyes to take in your surroundings You're seventeen years old in Apelap, which tells you exactly nothing Your name is Tephanis and up until one year ago was a traveling sneakthief with no actual home The first thing you notice is the dull pain in your head and how you can't move , this time without a hitch, however upon our return we were hit by an unexpected maelstrom that blew out our drives!,we decided that there was no point in trying to get the ship enoguh to strčigate the storm as it woulf have been too dangerous for the crew, so we bailed but alas one of the asteroids hit us and pierced our hull! cp-184-b She hums there for a second, waiting for further instruction Ooh! That feels pleasant she says to herself She imagines him kissing and caressing her, She carries his infant on her hip she fondles his robot parts shaped like a phallus oddments compartment she waits for 5 minutes 15 minutes then after 30 minutes her organic mattermind is filled with confusion,Had the captains orders become interrupted? What could it be? Great she its thinking it forgot about me completely The tractor beam stops immediately a friendly competition Each of them strove to nab the most cosmic strings possible for their own home The captain drone exmaple told us how important this was; They use the strings to brush the oxides off the ships ; she would hold it and hug it and she cried letting out the pain of losing her family by letting them go so they could be happy,and because naleen had bled so much she felt woozy so she pulled out a healing kit made of plants and twigs and let it seep into her bloodstream slowly the bloodsoaked twig began to neutralize the bleed It narrowed its eyes and took a step forward Come on, doofus On the screen she only noticed an immense poppy field of stars 's mountain dew before an adventure; she found it did wonders for her agility! She remembered captain kerol was injured at iscwar as he abruptly shouted somthing about wait and grabbed some ketchup of the fridge and grace so she tries to tell herself that her goals are Keep helping people when theyre in trouble and look good while doing it Krang had just hatched from his ovoid,crackalating out adorable duckies Why was everything before her eyes always so darn cute? he tilted his head slightly - as if nodding at he idea She went back on the screen and typed captain can I now iet your ship back to earth\ "bout dam time lady!" which captain could not navigate the ship until disk four was beaten none of them could slack off ever She diddled with ending button 1 for a zillion times, she finally succombed to putting the disk in the system and booted it up game on!! on1y by beating level 16 she can send the ship back to earth squared, but basically would reach final destination Her captaincy of the Excilerator The force feult I needs an explanation! The 1alien looks like a heavy sharp boomerang so when thrown forward it falls back 2wards u, but on teh way back it accelelaters at 1G until its 3 times faster than gunfire!!! The throw is very volatile so you need exceptional strength to support its weight *%$@ luck!!!! of innocents?? No , but she knew how to prepare for this This fragile tool could not be used properly; at least not without its brother With a mermaids sonance she could soft boil an omelette or harden blue wax but that was many moons ago He had a near death experience forgetting everything and everyone he knew but for her warmth in the night-sea A thrill that splinter catalysed through him, blowing kisses down his spine from ove warm sands 1 this almost killed her when the chicken from ziggy played his Death march along her front palour causing the great flood of '87 She looked 2wards the guillotine; she had exxagerated a grossly swollen lymphnodes and furious fibromyalgia But it was too late 2 turn back now TOO LATE!! The turtle had gone into hibernation seven years ago when he felt the creamy fire within her belly these "COUCHES!" grow by crystals shrinking from a parent until they are strong enough carry their own weight She could cut herself on its razor-like edge!!so with exceptional strength she thrust it into the muddy South pole rivers northeast thickest tributary of asia beyond the pale PITY!! 4 red blood cells were running late today so she took the carrotwagon they bought to save time beautiful But The cello player needed an exorbitantly priced enchanted harp for their library, A mere millimeter too short and it could never fill its section of the stands in concert halls But this was it--"the start of something , catching and giving light, blushing with fluffy, rippling reflections between islands of clouds, shuffling the starlight into new constellations Arranged just for her they bounced and bent light By the sheer strength of their woven lightness, they could easily push something so large They do look like dee's finest work So this was it then--parting was such sweet sorrow on the air currents, a mushiness where her feet are supposed to be With this magical force field in place no ordinary revolver could ever take their lives, but tonight their love was written in the stars selfish thought he was completely willing to give up his own life--he just didn't want to lose her too The mere diameter of one of those fibers could trap the moonslight between your chilled fingertips long after twilight, without stirring so much as a dust mote , and here she wet her moldable triangular being to fit the 'stringent requirements' of his infernal charmers Even if he came halfway he would impatiently insist on taking her home at midnight anyway, worst ogre ever They were only a moonstone's throw away now, but! Oh the stars twoleap every seven minutes now and with this big bully blocking half the doorway there's only one solution--thrust him out into space by his heels , and twone of the celestials has a spiraling crushed cyst from the top of his head, most of his arm ripped off, and most likely one or more ribs broken The ogres were thick-skinned alright but with six eyes he could see by moonlight that this punch went through the whole left side of his face! clearly knocking out an eye instantly and ruining everything else inside as he slumps over legless down the spiral staircase, blood pouring down behind him The end --to stay, not leave Thanks for taking this trip with me! One day you can make your own who you're with is always your choice--even if they don't know it--that's extra special though when it happens :) Turn down the hall to continue God and wait here, maybe have to wait a long time and that's okay Time really wasn't 'real' to her anymore anyway--as much as it had been at one time to otherworldly magic portal, which backlit to the glow of a humunculus huddled over a workbench enslaved to the dark arts in the middle of a desert Their sun powered the bonsai-alchemy of his all-consuming twisted lab--but this dusk, it couldn't compete with a descending blood red moon But she just sees things differently now after all she's seen And is that so bad? ! "We're free!" you yell, or something similar "Magic is dying!" Then you kiss--well, it might be some time before you ever have lips again for all you know, but it's as if to say--it doesn't matter now she rolls the windows down and feels the icy wind against her face, excited about who and where she is, rushing toward something--anything before it became an emergency and finally, she started to pack up all their remaining belongings One day Everything! To never have limits or boundaries, and with a beautiful boy by her side blanketing the sky, she couldn't help but laugh The sound of the wheels on the powder chaffing against each other--but then no more The final memories of an old life give way to fun in the fog with a beautiful boy by her side And you have outsmarted fate, or the closest thing to it Your brood of mutant children survive and thrive as their species tends to do The boy's power is their salvation, his instinctive intelligence embraces it The ant-like regularity of a ruthless social hierarchy, along with budding feelings of individuality and free will--due to the loss of its predecessor, are nurtured by you as best you can did affect her outlook on life and attitude especially living without any other adults around in such a small isolated town cut off from the rest of the world Still, she learned to exist with it even if at times she wanted to be petulant whenever she didn't get her way--still got that tendency today fantasy: Dropping out of school wouldn't have gotten you anywhere in this field Feeling bad about not taking your work seriously enough to get your degree? and you didn't feel too much of a stab at your conscious this time around Then, with acceptance of your future, you moved onto the next phase of your life and career WHAT WILL YOU DO: The idea of working extremely long hours under constant stress for at least a decade to come probably doesn't appeal to you all that much right now --something much more interesting It's been a couple days since you have had good long while to catch up on your twin hobbies of reading the news and online browsing Usually at work you made just enough time to quickly skim through the headlines and your favorite internet sites With your new technological appendage poping into view, you feel a baited breath thrill as your nerdy interests fully come back to life-- just as you left them The best virtual reality yet! at every waking moment Its value can never be maximized enough Slacking is bad for you and makes people suspicious, distracting, and inefficient Your superpower could very well one day disappear if you wait too long and sapping it for granted now would be the biggest mistake of your life Time can not be saved: it can only be spent Wasted even , his power of absoption awaits you--its recipient The toys stage direction pops up again arrestingly handsome with a youthful appearance, 22, wears a perfectly fitted gray woolen suit Sprawling in your chair you click on each link proffered to delve further into the matter The internet is vast and holds information for any curious adventure--just waiting to be uncovered Being immensely busy has its advantages, like not having very much idle time When work consumes a good portion of your life, you tend to neglect other areas that don't directly involve said work You haven't drank quite as much since your habits were healthier before and didn't really feel the need to do so all that much anyway However, there is something inherently interesting about alcohol--especially to a certain extent and across oceans of vast uncertainty--drifting slowly Digital displays indicating altitude and airspeed flickered and strobed through the windows so quickly that when looked at directly gave the viewer a sense of vertigo--a temporal whiplash if you will A roller coaster flying through the cosmos it doesn't get much more exhilarating than that and spit out highly radioactive material and coolant all in excess, rarely a moment was had where the power reserves weren't full to the brink The design was made incredibly efficient with intelligent components that made it flexible in flight It wold be able to fly around the world many times without refueling if it weren't for the fact that it sailed through the skies instead of above the ground on wheels or rails Wasting money on vehicles was something you didn't do very often, in fact its first use for a vehicle like this would be for short or distant transport of package and cargo Your fleet employees are all very capable of flying these packages to their designated areas without your direct involvement The company of a vehicle such as this was meant to lounge in while the package convoy multi-tasked around you laying dormant at 300 meters, airship at 150, delivery craft at 550 meters While all of the gas-cells needed for the airship and other types of energy were certainly nothing new to the construction of airships, your main expertise was focused in fusion and anti-matter cells for the primary propulsion drive Of course some of these smaller airships ran on more exotic fuel methods such as cryotechnology, even antimatter lookout platform at 200 meters, forward stabilizers at 50 meters These were all facts that agitated you to overwhelming heights and stimulated your mind all the while Only stopping yourself from running on hours at a time production of new ideas and concepts to improve upon the airship's capabilities and efficiency What a beautiful machine it was, just utterly gorgeous rear mast at 200 meters, antannae at 100 From afar, laying on the newly installed bench-seats from below, you could look up from your elevated viewpoint and see nothing but pure blue skies The vehicle was wide and long, your office quarters encompassed the back 2/5's of the airship and the cockpit took up the forward 3/5's leaving just enough room for a common cabient should you ever need to confine guests for whatever reason long-range antenna at 500 meters, long-range radar at 300 Truly it was an accomplishment for the ages This airship was a just perfect as it could get in your opinion and you started to walk back inside when your eyes casted their view downward to the earth far, far bellow, but instead of the usual creeping terror that consumed you during your first moments aboard, tranquility took its place Peacefulness Serene observation windows at 50 meters Conscious thought leaves you as you take in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as your fears and anxieties subside from their perch in your chest Pride swells within you as you exit the control station inside and ascend up a ladder to your hammock bed located at the rear of your office quarters here at the back of the airship Its just another peaceful evening Dear Diary antennae at 400 meters, long-range radio at 150 Product Name: ZP-29 Atmospheric Processor Promotional video linked on homepage meals and restrooms at 1,000 meters Best of luck to you at Venus Hill The earth its just so bleh Your brother recommended this highly? He who burned everything he touched? I must say the teachers always liked his outdoorsy attitude But does my lazy slob of a younger sibling truly have what it takes to work here? We'll see I suppose view of otherwise "empty" surroundings A trio of flying lizard scouts fly by from high above reports their findings to the Airship, controlling the Atmos-Link machines as it takes in air from zone 1-12 A simple touch of a color-changing button displays the range information needed to be extracted and processed The plants, the lifeforms, temperature, humidity everything Although highly effective, the former T G S units were a bit more interesting A popup alerts near the edges of your screen Send reply to Ragnor: "Hey, stop lounging around and get up here! We got us a ton of work to do and you're sitting around swilling booze like some swine -W " Sent city lights and streetlights life The forests had its own beauty, but the awakened beast within you drives you to want more than what the forests could provide You've wiped the tribal par and village Êlves from the map Now that your reputation is well established, it's unlikely anyone will dare attack you now So now, larger settlements were your trophies of conquest and who was to stop you? Arquest doubts you even have any weapons of "mass destruction" searching threads on Gibraltarpedia Tritorian Empire: The Fatherland The bright lights of an ancient city An entire enclave aimed to bring forth a new industrial revolution under the eyes of the Emperor, Arquest I Indeed, his last name was borrowed from the great Leader of his people and eventual God-Emperor that started this great nation (debated greatly) during the revitalization period after the Robot War laid waste to (nearly) the entire world resumes previous train of thought You touch the unlock pad next to your apartment door Working both ways, a quick scan confirms you'r not bleeding or otherwise injured as it alters colors before you can even turn the knob Even in this part he sector, gangers and Slabaugh Dwellings were close enough that if you ever found yourself in danger from loitering, you could easily run and get home in time answers another private message Slammer: "Alright listen up Ragnor We got some people where we work that say they need extra security measures installed just in case some weirdoes start making trouble there You and I both know that it's probably going to be some ED/GC spies or even those new age turds, but the job pays well " Signed, The Big Fellow mutes another obnoxious advert

[argocitycosplay]

I decided to end this year’s convention season softly, much the way I began it. I headed out to Genghis Con, which like OddMall is a smaller more eclectic event that I’ve been meaning to get to for years. Genghis Con is a small press, independent and comix event held annually in the Cleveland area. It’s always on the Sunday after Thanksgiving and yet despite being at the same time every year, I always seem to forget about it. This year with a renewed intent to visit shows I haven’t been to before I was determined to finally make the scene here.

Genghis Con has been held in a number of different venues over the years, beginning with the Beachland Ballroom some years back, and more recently finding a home in Lakewood. This year was their first time in the Flats, and I worried about finding parking. I managed to score place on the street a block away from the venue, an old machine and tool factory, and walked the short distance, following other people who seemed to be in the know. The old factory space is a beautiful venue, with strings of lights hung by the wooden rafters and exposed brick, it has a very “arts district” kind of feel which is perfect for this event.

Genghis Con is a much smaller event than your average convention, kind of like the Artist Alley at a comicon – it’s a strange mixture of flea market and art show, with more local talent and lots of underground fare.

There is way more political activism at the show than your usually see in a comic convention, and a wider array of the strange and the weird. I spied creepy Christmas ornaments, weird magazines, comic books and graphic novels and greeting cards.Everybody had buttons and stickers, and I found a bizarre indie pamphlet which chronicled one man’s hobby of designing terrible He-Man action figures – strange customs like Skeletor riding a dolphin or He-Man with inflamed nipples.

Personally I was here for Derf. I had briefly met Derf Backderf earlier this year at the Pekar Park comic fest – a similar event held in Cleveland Heights. Derf had been on hand for a Q&A after a screening of My Friend Dhamer, the film based on his graphic novel. I had recently checked out the expanded edition from the library and wanted to get a copy of my own. I also wanted to get in autograph and a photograph – I didn’t have anything on hand when I seen him at Pekar Park and my camera had run out of space right about then so I wasn’t able to snap a pic either. Derf had copies at his table and was gracious enough to sign a copy of the book, even doing a sketch of its titular character on the front cover. While I was getting my photograph with him, friends Mark and Mike drifted by waving and out of nowhere I spied my buddy Lizzy from Heroes United (a charity group we both do work for). I disentangle myself from Derf, shook his hand and went over to greet friends.

After I dashed across the aisle to grab a copy of that brilliant “Terrible He-Man Figures” ‘zine from Mullet Turtle comics I’d seen earlier, I ended up hanging out with Mike and Mark, and wandering the convention floor with them – watching Mike get his comics signed and picking up a blank covers for the Carol and Johns art show later this month. We chatted about the art that we saw, incivility on the internet, and I introduced them to my friend Lizzy who was relieved to finally have somebody to talk Star Trek with.

At the vegan booth I gentleman offered us brownies and asked just each who our favorite Doctor Who was. Mike chose Tom Baker and I am immediately replied Jon Pertwee. It made the bakers day to discover people who replied something other than David Tennant, and we laughed our way down to hook up with other friends. My friend Craig from the Panels comic club slipped me his latest work, a wrestling story with a anti-bullying team, and I grabbed some horror material from one of the other booths.

Genghis Con is fun, but not necessarily my thing. I expected to probably be in and out of there in less than an hour, but meeting up with a surprising amount of people that I knew really made it a nice day – there are far worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon then hanging out with friends and admiring local art. This probably won’t be one of my regular stops, but I can definitely see me popping back here in there

Ghengis Con I decided to end this year's convention season softly, much the way I began it. I headed out to Genghis Con, which like OddMall is a smaller more eclectic event that I’ve been meaning to get to for years.

[sending-the-message]

Withdrawal by Ilunibi

It wasn’t always just me and Dead Coyote. When not practicing magic, we were usually in the presence of his regulars who, sadly, were the only people aside from me who ever seemed to visit. There was Brian Wilcox, who dressed like a lumberjack and was more interested in what new DVDs Dead Coyote had pirated as opposed to what new drugs had come in. John Boy was the scariest, a wiry and effeminate tweaker with a hidden kill-switch that seemed to go off if you looked at him the wrong way. Turtle was a strange and quiet guy who would sit and talk to me in pill-induced hazes about the secrets of the world, government conspiracies, and how Dead Coyote earned his name by killing the man who smuggled him over the border.

Which is funny because Dead Coyote was born in Maryland.

The most important of these regulars, however, was Cheryl James, a short, kinda pudgy brunette with a pack-a-day habit and a mismatched wardrobe collected from Goodwill donation bins. She never had a lot of money but figured out pretty early on that she could make trades with Dead Coyote, usually in the form of food and pills, to get her weekly fix. At least twice a week, she’d pop on by with pizza and a Marlboro hanging out of her mouth, her and Dead Coyote would sort out their business in the kitchen while I inhaled a couple of slices, and then they’d both come out high as kites, flank me on either side, and we’d just sit and watch trashy television and talk about our lives.

To Cheryl’s credit, she was always very invested in what I had to say. It was kind of empowering to listen to her scream “Bullshit!” every time I told her how unfairly teachers treated me and how Jessica Schneider bullied me. Her tirades about how much people sucked were inspiring.

I wasn’t the only one who liked her. Her and Dead Coyote eventually stopped trading pizza for drugs, opting instead to settle their payments with sex. And dates. And cuddling on the couch. I won’t lie and say a part of me wasn’t jealous--Dead Coyote was my only friend for a long time and, as much as I liked Cheryl, I really disliked the idea of sharing him--but it was good for Dead Coyote. As nonchalant as he came off, he was an extremely lonely person, ditched by his family and all of his worthwhile friends because of the way he lived.

Even occultists want to feel loved, I guess.

Cheryl was also good for him in another way, though what was good for him was the end of her. On October 14, 2012, a “concerned neighbor” reported to the housing project’s office that they hadn’t seen her so much as open her blinds for two days and that her television had been blaring for forty-eight hours straight. The supervisor did a wellness check, and lo and behold, Cheryl was found stiff as a board on her bed with a halo of vomit. The gossip that followed was absolutely brutal, from hypocritical drug-buddies talking about how trashy she was to high-and-mighty single moms sticking up their nose and saying she deserved it. A few people blamed Dead Coyote for it, and the aftermath of that day was the first time I saw the man cry.

He blamed himself. He also decided that enough was enough and was seeking help the next morning.

I was sixteen at this time, and had moved out of my mom’s apartment because I hadn’t really seen any point in staying, not out of a lack of love more than not wanting to use anymore of her resources. I’d also lost my apartment after losing my job once I stupidly admitted to a secret shopper at the corner store that I was too young to be selling cigarettes, let alone alcohol, but was too bullheaded and embarrassed to go crawling back to my mother. Without her knowledge, I spent the remainder of my high school years on Dead Coyote’s couch and had a front row seat to watching a guy who’d become my anchor lose his goddamn mind.

Withdrawal isn’t pretty. I was probably too young to be holding his hair while he puked into his kitchen sink and trying to find ways to calm him down when he was shaking in a corner, trying to pull said hair out. His memory was shit, his temperament was scattershot. I couldn’t really be mad at him for snapping at me, but it seemed like his moods swung from nearly kicking me out one minute to crying in his kitchen floor out of a mixture of pain and guilt the next. He was a puddle of a man, and I had nightmares for months after he locked himself in his bathroom threatening to kill himself because “the methadone ain’t shit” and his belief that he was a murderer. Still, no matter how young I was, I couldn’t even count how many times he’d been there for me through all of my petty bullshit and I was resolute in my decision that giving up on him wasn’t an option.

Unfortunately, withdrawal is also absolutely terrifying when the person withdrawing is a fucking warlock.

It was, suitably enough, Halloween. I had thought of ditching school that morning because I couldn’t get Dead Coyote out of bed even after trying to drag him off of his mattress by his legs, but he’d woken up enough to tell me that he was fine, just queasy, and that his upset stomach wasn’t worth my grades. I was really struggling at the time so I decided to listen for once, lest I ended up redoing my Junior year and having to camp in his living room for an extra twelve months that I probably wasn’t welcome.

But, I spent the whole day worrying anyway, and when the school day ended I bolted for the bus like a bat out of hell. It was all I could do to keep from screaming at the driver to floor it. I sat, nervously trying to drown out my thoughts by thinking every Disney song I could remember as loud as I possibly could, but there was a sinking feeling in my gut the closer I got to home. This burning, aching, empty feeling like my stomach acid was trying to eat its way out.

Dead Coyote was, and is, one of the most important people in my life, and I won’t shy away from saying that I got so fucking attached to him that I damn near had a sixth sense specifically for him. And feeling empty? I had my fears, because none of the reasons I could think of to explain that hollow pain were comforting. The only thing to explain a feeling of absence would be that he was gone in some way, or at least that’s what I told myself over and over again atop my brain’s incorrect rendition of “Be Prepared.”

The bus finally pulled up to my stop. I shoved my way to the front and jumped from the top step dead to the sidewalk, hitting the ground in a sprint that I would have otherwise been unable to keep up. But adrenaline propelled me, like rocket fuel, straight to Dead Coyote’s door. Every muscle in my body shook with nerves as I nearly tore down his stoop light to get the spare key hidden behind the glass, and it was all I could do to get the key in the lock and remember the way the lock was supposed to turn and push the door open because there was something blocking it.

It was the couch, as it turns out, thrown haphazardly in front of it and flipped on its back, but not because he was trying to barricade me out. No, illuminated by candles in the middle of the floor was a shakily drawn Pentacle of Solomon. Beside that, drawn even more haphazardly, were a barrage of Goetic crests and a splash of blood.

The drawings were everywhere, written in everything: blood, sharpie, dry-erase marker, chalk, salt, sand, and (as ashamed as I am to admit it) Roseart crayons. They called upon Marchosias, Buer, Orobas, Eligor, and everyone in between. There were marks for the planets, the stars, and things he’d never taught me. They ran from the walls to the floor to the ceiling, from the kitchen to the downstairs bathroom and through the living room all the way up the stairs. Bloody handprints curled around the edge of every step, the walls thrumming and groaning as I grew closer and closer, creeping up the staircase like a stalking cat.

The floor shook like somebody dropped a weight. I heard glass shatter and, glancing up at the cracked bathroom door at the top of the steps, I saw a glint of light from the scattered remains of the mirror. After that, it took every ounce of my courage to turn the corner to Dead Coyote’s room. The door was pulled closed, a gigantic “X” keyed into the paint, interspersed with vandalistic rambling carved by a shaking hand.

I DON’T WANT TO BE DEAD COYOTE I AM NOT DEAD COYOTE DEAD COYOTE DEAD COYOTE DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DOG DEAD DOG DEAD DOG DEAD DOG NO NO NO NO NO

Seriously, adrenaline gives you superpowers. I was shaking and terrified and could feel my stomach churning, but even though every single ounce of me wanted to run back to my mom’s and call a priest, I found myself grabbing the hot-cold doorknob and throwing his bedroom door open so hard that it punched a hole in the wall. Heat, like hellfire, spilled out of the room and there, sitting in the middle of his mattress on the floor, cross legged and scowling, was Dead Coyote.

His room was pitch black, except for those goddamn candles. Everything the light from the hallway touched was a mess, from shards of the mirror that had been on the back of his door to posters ripped straight from the wall and black-out curtains shredded to ribbons. Still-functional ribbons, I realized, because despite the fact I could see slivers of sunlight behind them, nothing was coming through. My feet crunched against the glass as I took a step in, and a loud pop behind me launched us into further blackness as the lightbulb in the upstairs hall exploded inside the fixture.

“DC?” I called in. He didn’t even twitch.

“DC, it’s me. It’s Seymour. I--”

“Get. Out.”

His voice was low, sinister, and almost growling. Dead Coyote sounded, quite literally, like a coyote. I tried to puff myself up thinking that if I showed that I was unwilling to back down that there was a slight chance he’d lower his guard. Instead, he shifted positions on his bed, twisting his head, climbing up on his toes, and arching his back like a predator ready to pounce. My shaky confidence shattered, but I struggled through the trembling hands and wobbly knees to fake an expression of determination.

“Get out! GET OUT!”

I shook my head and told him that, no, I wasn’t leaving and if he wanted me gone, he’d have to make me leave. It took a lot of nerve to say, and a lot more nerve to stand by it when I heard glass shatter downstairs.

“This is my house, this is my space, and I want you out!”

I dared him to move me. I berated him for acting like a child when he was twelve years older than me. I guess I didn’t fully understand just how deep the drugs had sank their claws into him and I was plain ignorant as to just how fucked up withdrawal made you feel. I just knew that everything in the apartment was broken right down to the paint beginning to peel off the walls, and I was scared. I was terrified. I honestly thought Dead Coyote was on his last legs.

I mean, even if he was physically okay, I couldn’t account for how he was mentally. Or, hell, spiritually. I thought back to all the broken, haphazard sigils scrawled on every inch of the walls and floors and back to his lessons about how precision was key and overdoing it would end badly. He could have ended up possessed or haunted or god only knew what and, of the two of us, he was the refined master of this artform. I didn’t know how to reverse massive fuck-ups. I would have been powerless to help him.

He cursed at me, mostly in Spanish, though he switched to English whenever he wanted me to be perfectly aware of what he was calling me. I told him, again, that I wasn’t leaving. He feinted a lunge at me and I, being a genius, told him to get over himself. That I wasn’t afraid of him, which was a blatant lie.

The air went cold and Dead Coyote stood, perfectly straight and statue-still. His expression became neutral. I twitched, he tilted his head, and then my confidence slipped. He wasn’t calming down. No, there was a maliciousness in his eyes that told me that he was planning something.

So, I ran. I turned and ran down the stairs, with one thought on my mind: Dead Coyote had to have been possessed and I had to get to the kitchen. He kept the holy water under the sink with the Mr. Clean and Fabuloso (because, honestly, what is holy water aside from another cleaning product?), and I knew that was the only way this was going to end in my favor. If it could sear the shit out of Glasyalabolas, then maybe it could burn the crazy out of Dead Coyote.

It took me about three jumps to get down the stairs and I slid on a fallen curtain and knocked the wind out of myself on the couch. Behind me, I heard him galloping down and yelling, so I pulled together all of my strength and clambered over the top. I hopscotched over candles, left shoe prints on sigils, and kicked salt everywhere as I hopped awkwardly across the kitchen.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Seymour! Don’t you--!”

Too late. In a less-than-graceful fashion, I hit the ground in a slide, less like a baseball player running for home and more like an awkward toddler on ice. I ripped open the cabinet, picked up the glass bottle Dead Coyote kept his elixir in, struggled to my feet, and turned to see him standing--seething--in the middle of the kitchen floor. His shirt was torn, though I didn’t know how he had managed that, and somehow his nose was bleeding. Was it whatever was inside of him or did he just run into a wall?

I don’t know and he still won’t tell me.

“Put it down,” he warned. I shook my head.

“Seymour, put it down!”

I shook my head again and huddled down. He stared at me, bewildered, until I ran at him screaming like a goddamned lunatic.

Believe it or not, I was not and am not a small girl. Well, I’m short, but I’m also built with the skeleton of an old Norse god. I’ve always been more than a little self-conscious about it; I’m not that delicate waif or petite cutie that men want to be with and women want to be. I am, essentially, an ox with boobs who could potentially be scary if her hobby wasn’t watching trashy talk shows. In that moment, though, I was downright thankful that I could be a linebacker, because I was more structurally stable and significantly heavier than the raging, magical tweaker who had me cornered in his kitchen.

I knocked him clear off his feet. For all the fights I saw him win, he went down like a bitch. I don’t know if it was because whatever had a grip on him was taken by surprise or if he was actually in there and just didn’t want to hit me, but at the time, I figured I was running on pure luck and had to act fast before he got the upper hand. I sat on his chest, I tilted the bottle, and I poured every last drop on his snarling face.

Silence.

He wasn’t struggling anymore, so I took that as a good sign. Still, I was a deer caught in headlights, sitting there on top of him with an empty bottle in one hand and a fistful of his shirt in the other. He stared back, blinking, soaked and confused. I felt his chest rise and fall in a heavy sigh under my butt.

“DC?” I squeaked.

“Princess, did you just pour all of that out?”

I told him I had.

“What the fuck.”

Not even a question. Just a statement of exasperation.

It took a few moments for me to agree to let him up, but when I did, we just ended up sitting in the floor in silence for a while. He needed a good, long time to gather up his thoughts so he could explain himself, but it boiled down to the fact he was miserable. He was sick. He was in pain. He got carried away. But mostly, he was grieving. I had never even stopped to consider that option.

Honestly, the whole mess started with him trying to contact Cheryl. He just wanted to feel her presence or hear her voice and just have the chance to apologize. But the spell wouldn’t work. He’d never tried to summon the spirit of a specific person before and apparently wasn’t good at it, and so he started appealing to everything he possibly could until he finally ran out of space to write. He called something, alright, judging from the amount of damage done to his apartment, but he kept trying to pass it off as a personal poltergeist born from his own suffering.

Something big, something angry, and something that would die off if he just stopped feeding it, just like I had done to mine.

But I didn’t believe him, and at his core, I don’t think he did either. I had seen Dead Coyote angry before, but the whole experience was so off-the-wall and terrifying and unlike him that I couldn’t believe that it was him. Maybe withdrawal makes you a different person and drugs are a demon in and of themselves, but--more likely in this specific case--withdrawal makes you miserable enough to invite something bigger, scarier, and more murderous because you’re an occultist who isn’t thinking straight.

“I’m still smudging the shit out of this apartment,” I warned him.

“Fair enough,” he conceded.

That night was not a fun night. Neither of us slept. Armed only with what sage he had stuck back in his cabinets, we tried to bless every corner of his home two, three, four times. When we ran out of sage, we used salt to bless it all again. When we ran out of salt and couldn’t scrape anymore off of the floor, I found an ancient cannister of rosemary in the back of a neglected closet and tried my best with that; it’s a weak alternative, but an alternative nonetheless. The sun went down, the sun came up, and we were scrubbing sigils off of the floors and walls and replacing lights and sweeping up shards of glass.

Needless to say, I didn’t go to school on November first. Instead, I spent that afternoon curled up on the couch, too exhausted to move, sweaty and nauseous and shaky and scented like a spice rack. And, as I dozed off with Dead Coyote passed out flat on his back on the floor, snoring like a lumber mill, I wondered if this was really the last of it.

It wasn’t. Heroin is an evil fucking thing and there were relapses and withdrawals and arguments and tears and Cheryl’s name--may she rest in peace--came up more than a few more times in the following years, but at the very least he never magically trashed his apartment again. Though, in the end, we both guessed that it probably wouldn’t have mattered if he had.

He definitely wasn’t going to get his deposit back anyway.