#but it’s there! and the purple one will also go up on the wall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ultravi0lence14 · 2 days ago

Text

Rhiannon

dean winchester x hippie!reader

1.4k | fluff, fem pronouns

summary: as stevie nicks once said; wouldn’t you love to love her. dean could agree with that statement. one hundred percent.

*based on this request

the early morning sun shined in through your window, arrays of pinks, purples and blues mixing in from the multiple coloured crystals and little stained glass designs you had bought. this is why dean loved coming to your apartment. the atmosphere. all the comfort and peace the you had brought into it.

you were the calm that dean needed in his hectic life. the anchor the held him down when things got too much.

he met you when sam had left for stanford, the wounds fresh as he threw back shot after shot in a dingy bar. you were just passing through, a couple of miles away from your apartment and needing to quickly stop somewhere to use the bathroom.

dean’s eyes caught you moving across the bar, the way your jeans hugged your lower half and the flower pattern on your tank top drawing him in. when you retreated from the ladies room, dean was on you like a predator on prey, attempting to elicit a little one night stand.

but you politely declined. though when you tried to walk away from the beaten down man, you saw something else entirely in his eyes.

he looked sad, and you couldn’t help but a feel a bit of empathy for the guy in front of you.

that is how you were raised. your parents telling you to always look for the good in people, being aware of emotions. you weren’t stupid, you understood when people were trying to take advantage of you. but you just liked to be helpful, wanting to make an impact one person at a time.

for the rest of the night, you sat with dean in a booth as he rambled on about his brother and what had happened. he told you that he understood why sam wanted to go on to get a higher education, but he just couldn’t understand why it had to be so far away; why it made their father so angry.

you comforted him the best to your ability. explaining that sometimes people needed a change in their life, and just because his brother left for university doesn’t mean he stopped loving him.

when you both went your separate ways in the parking lot, you couldn’t help but notice the stumble in dean’s step. he knew he was too intoxicated to drive, and was fully prepared to sleep in the impala stationed in the parking lot of the bar.

something inside of you believed that you needed to be of help to this man. and in hindsight, you did the stupidest thing you possibly could’ve done. the one thing parents always warned their kids not to do.

you invited dean to crash at your place.

it was dumb, you knew that. you had just met dean, and he could be an axe murderer for all you know. but the guy was really going through it. and he was so drunk, that you believed the weight of any harmful object in his hands would probably knock him down.

that night, dean slept on your couch, peaceful snores leaving his lips as you slept comfortably in your bed. when he woke up in the morning, dean completely forgot where he was. and then it all came back to him. seeing you in the bar, trying to sleep with you, you turning him down, which then turned into a therapy session that landed him to crash on your couch.

dean was fully planning on leaving, but he couldn’t help himself in taking a peak around your place.

from the couch, he could see the multitude of plants and flowers the covered your living space. it was like a garden, a comforting vibe that also warranted a lovely smell to the home.

there was colour all over the place. from the stained glass lamps on coffee tables to the rows of crystals hanging on string in front of your window. everything was so bright and colourful, and dean couldn’t help himself but stare at the moving colours across the wall.

he also smelt a lingering lavender smell, which was then over powered by the aroma of bacon and pancakes coming from somewhere else in your home. dean couldn’t help himself, he loved bacon. so like a man hypnotized, he followed the debilitating scent of bacon that lingered throughout the air.

as he made his way into the kitchen, he found that the rest of your home was just like the living area. adorned by breezy light pink curtains was a small window over your sink, housing mini plants a crystals alike. there were flowers everywhere. an arrangement by the stove, on the counter, even in the sink. it was overwhelming, but in a good way.

“wow,” he mumbled, groggily slumping into one of the bar stools in front of your counter. “that’s a lot of flowers.”

dean’s voice brought a laugh from your lips, making him look over to where you stood by the stove, stacking pancakes possibly as tall as he was. to this day, dean doesn’t know what it was in the room. all the flowers and greenery, the slight breeze from the open window, maybe it was just your intoxicating beauty. but at that very moment, you looked absolutely ethereal.

you just looked so pretty. the long white skirt falling loosely on your hips. the simple black t shirt that made a perfect canvas for the two braids you put in your hair. he looked down to notice that you were wearing crazy coloured striped socks on your feet, and dean couldn’t help but smile at the little pop of colour that you added to your otherwise basic outfit.

bringing over two plates of breakfast, you sat beside dean at the counter and ate together, just talking and getting to know one another.

it was a simple morning, filled with laughs and weird fun facts that you two threw each others way. when you told him you planned to go to the farmers market, dean couldn’t help himself in taking your offer to come with.

he had never even been to one, not even caring in the slightest for what they had to offer. but some part of dean didn’t want this day to end, and in his heart, he knew he wanted to get to know you more.

you two spent the late morning walking around the farmers market, you grabbing some fresh produce and more crystals as dean took in his surroundings. some of the people he saw looked a little weird, but he knew they probably meant well, and that everything here honestly wasn’t so bad.

when you had grabbed a couple assortments of flowers, telling dean you planned to make some flower crowns at home, he also couldn’t resist in coming back to your place and weaving the stems together by your side.

you two were in a comfortable silence, weaving the crowns in synchrony when dean couldn’t help but break it. “why do you like flowers so much? i can’t help but notice how many you have in your living room alone.”

his words elicited a gorgeous smile from you, and you then went on to explain why you held them so dearly to your heart. “there is just something so beautiful about a flower. they start from a simple seed, then grow into something amazing. i know that probably sounds dumb and i might sound insane, but i just love the whole ideology of it.

“that isn’t dumb, and you most definitely don’t sound insane.” dean had placed his flowers on the ground, slowly reaching out to grab your hand. “in my life, i have to look for the good things at any chance i can find. it’s sometimes nice to have a flower grow out of a bad situation.”

his words brought a soft smile to your lips, and you squeezed his hand before going back to your weaving. “you know, i didn’t expect you to go so philosophical on me there winchester.”

dean grinned back, grabbing his flowers again and following your motions. “well, i’m just full of surprises, flower.”

after that, you and dean spent so much time together. and when dean finally got the courage to kiss you for the first time, it was like everything was more clear to him.

he understood sam’s leaving, and he even tried to reach out to him. he started coming into his own, becoming his own person and even fighting back to his father when he called you a temporary distraction.

that was all years ago. and now, as dean laid beside you, checking his phone to see if sam texted him about any cases, he couldn’t help but silently thank you for all that you’ve done for him.

with a kiss on your cheek, and a mumbled, “i love you, flower,” dean peacefully fell back asleep with you in his arms, completing him in ways he never knew he needed.

#supernatural #dean winchester #imagine #sam winchester #supernatural x reader #fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction

186 notes · View notes

iloveelvisss · 2 days ago

Note

I would love to see more yandere elvis, maybe him blowing up at the mafia for getting to "close" even if it's not really anything besides politeness. (All the requests are yandere)

Or, (This is seasonal) elvis and reader going over a christmas list for reader.

Maybe even elvis tells the reader he wants kids(Vegas era)

Elvis tells the reader what to wear for a party.

Reader cleaning graceland and elvis gets breeding urges (smut)

Reader getting concerned about elvis in the late years of the 70s, and helps him get off the drugs, why? Because he does what she wants (yandere behavior)

Anyway, some ideas for possible one shots. You can ignore this ask if you want, but I wanted to give you a few ideas :)

Okayyyy so eventually I’m gonna try and do all of these… maybe? But I really liked the one about him getting upset at the Memphis Mafia for ‘looking’ at his girl, so I’m gonna go with that one for this. Thank you soooo much, and please feel free to request more😙😙!! Also, thank you, because these are such good ideas!

Lookin’ (Elvis oneshot)

Correlates to Lovestruck and goes along with that storyline (which will hopefully be getting a second part sometime soon).

Pairing: yandere!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometime after everything is settled and Elvis has married Y/N, he feels as though a member of the Memphis Mafia is getting too close to his ‘angel’. And he won’t stand for that.

Warnings/Triggers: yandere fic, so expect delusional, obsessive, compulsive, manipulative, crazed, and possessive behavior. Elvis gets very angry and possessive. References to drug use. References to forced marriage, breeding, and the colonel.

In hindsight you should’ve known better. It had only been a month since you had to marry Elvis, and he was still very much in the honeymoon mindset. He wanted you pregnant— another way to make his claim on you a known thing to anyone else.

You somehow got to walk to the bar without him going with you. Most likely because he had a clear view of you from where he stood talking to Sammy Davis Jr., who had come to watch his show. You poured yourself a water— just to be safe, and then you went on your way back to him at a leisurely pace. You stopped to admire the painting he had hanging on the suite’s wall. It was very pretty. A large landscape of gorgeous purple flowers that were blowing freely in the wind. Such a cruel difference to your current life.

That’s when it happened. Sonny came up beside you, holding a beer. “Nice, ain’t it? Me and Red bought it for ‘im before you came along.”

You smiled politely, making sure to not make eye contact. You nod and take a drink of your water, which was now halfway empty. “S’ very pretty. Bet it makes him miss simple life sometimes,” you sigh, knowing that you’re really referencing yourself. You missed simple life. Nowadays you wished you would’ve said no to the job offer and stayed in California with the trust fund kids.

Sonny noticed your drink and offered to refill it, to which you politely declined. But it was too late. His hand touched yours and Elvis saw.

You made eye contact with him from across the room and you saw his jaw clench. His eyes darkened only slightly, and nobody other than you saw it. But the whole room stilled and watched with bated breath as he dropped his conversation with Sammy and stormed over to you. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, and he looked as if he was a predator stalking his prey with his eyes narrowed and his nose flared. His shoulders held back to make them come off as more broad. He was downright angry— scary angry.

You knew you were in trouble, and you held your breath as he made it to you. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the bedroom portion of the suite. He locked you in it, and you could only imagine the shit he was giving Sonny.

“That’s my wife! My goddamn wife! Ya stay away from ‘er, or I’ll break yer goddamn neck!”

And then the door reopens and he comes storming in, his anger pouring off of him in waves. You take a large step back and then you fall backwards onto the small chair by the window. He leans down into your face, grabbing your jaw. “Ya like humiliatin’ me, angel? Huh? Ya like makin’ it look like my own wife don’t want me at my party?”

You fight back the tears that are trying desperately to fall. You shake your head as best as you can with his grip. “Please… Elvis, I didn’t mean anything by it. I- I was just talking to him.”

He stares into your eyes with a heated gaze for what feels like hours, and then he seems to remember himself, and he takes a deep breath. He loosens his grip, his eyes softening just a bit. “I don’t like it when those… those pigs talk to ya, Y/N,” his hand moves to caress your cheek and clear your tears that managed to fall, “Jus’ promise me you’ll stay by my side, yeah? Don’t let those suckers talk to ya?”

You quickly nod, just wanting him to stay happy. You shakily reach up and put your hand over his, holding it to your face. “Y- yeah, baby, I’ll only talk to you. Promise.” You say as firmly as you can manage in your slightly shaken state. He then nods, seeming convinced and content enough.

Elvis reaches down and pulls you up by the arm. He pulls you into an embrace, his fingers gently trailing through your hair. He kisses the top of your head, whispering, “Mhm, angel, s’ jus’ you and me, okay? Forever. Yer mine.”

Okay, so this is ACTUALLY shit. I’m so sorry, please forgive me😭. But I wanted to get at least one of your requests out for you. Enjoy…?

Tags: @queenstarlight (lmk if you wanna be added)

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis presley #elvis fic #vintage #70s #elvis fans #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #fanfic #70s elvis #60s elvis #50s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #fanfiction #yandere

28 notes · View notes

persephone-writes · 3 days ago

Text

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Two: The Heart Wants What it Wants

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter One - Chapter Three

Description: answers are few and far between, Sirius is in the trenches, and the Gryffindor quidditch team receives some good news

Word Count: 5.5k

You were never able to get much sleep, tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning. Just when you began to doze off, it seemed as though your mind forced you to remember the red and purple fish. Your half-sleeping imagination replayed the drop in your stomach when you finally discerned its meaning through the help of three separate books, and the confusion over the seemingly ambivalent fate which awaited you. While Lily did point out that Divination wasn’t a perfect science, you found that it always came true in one form or another. It would be possible to accept her suggestion if not for the aching feeling that had been building in your chest since midnight.

As it started to grow light, you decided to give up on sleep. A pink and purple sunrise shown through your dormitory windows, the muntins breaking up the rays into little diamonds across the wooden floors. You dressed as quietly as you could, throwing on something halfway decent so you could go down to the Common Room and attempt to do something productive. You hauled with you your three Divination books, as well as your existing notes, setting them on one of the small tables. The fire was nearly out, only dimming embers remaining, so you threw on a few more logs. The howl of the wind blowing outside the tower whipped past the castle walls, skirting along the edges of the jagged stone.

You opened up the large purple book, Crundlesmuck’s Lessons in Animal Divination , and flipped to the chapter on Ichthyomancy. Sifting through the pages, you tried to come across the passage you had read a thousand times over already, hoping that one more reading would provide further insight. You took a deep breath once you came upon it, preparing yourself for disappointment.

“As the great Diviner Simon Bonk once professed, ‘...the lone fish may be like the wandering child in search of its mother, or, the snarling wolf in search of its next meal.’ Though Mr. Bonk is correct in his dual interpretation of the lone fish, one must not rely solely on numbers, but also colour, texture, smell, personality, aura, and accompaniment in order to truly make an accurate prediction. While the lone fish may very well represent the search for companionship, or the loss of it, if its colour is red or pink, the fortune could be of a romantic nature. However, if the lone red or pink fish was swimming south, the direction of the past, one may very well predict the subject of the future to run into a long lost sweetheart. Due north, however, may indicate the lone red fish's connections to a greater enemy, or the search for revenge which will soon be met. This would not be true if the fish were pink, of course, for such strong emotions are usually represented by the most saturated of colours. Further, if its scales reach the sunlight, reflecting into the viewer's eyes, this indicates a far more subdued outcome, or one which may come in the very near future. As you can see, a true diviner must combine all the necessary attributes in order to accurately use Ichthyomancy in their practice.”

“Merlin's beard,” you muttered to yourself, a hand coming to rub at your temples. It was all utterly nonsensical, at least to you. The chart on the side was no help, either.

Red- Strong emotions such as love, hatred, anger, infatuation, resentment, etc., may include jealousy if paired with orange and blue.

Pink- Lesser forms of love and other emotions, less influential than red.

Orange- Happiness and good fortune, strictly positive change.

Yellow- Confusion, frustration, a lack of knowledge.

Green- Jealousy, envy, greed, may indicate success in endeavors purposefully made or unintentional.

Blue- Tranquility (though not necessarily without change), friendship, can indicate the natural world.

Purple- Power, tends to aid in the strength of other omens.

Black- Death, change, dramatic shifts either positive or negative.

White- Purity, lack of change, consistency either positive, negative, or neutral, or its inverse in numbers of the double digits.

While you initially thought that the white fish had overridden the effects of the red and purple one, a whole school of them pointed more towards chaos than anything. No, you and Lily were correct; it was an awful omen indeed. Still, you closed Crundlesmuck’s Lessons in Animal Divination and opened another, hoping that someone could provide a more positive outlook on your situation.

“White’s ability to have an opposite meaning should not be disregarded when analyzing omens, particularly when white appears nearby…” —The Unabridged Diary of the Late Seer Humphrey Holbert Sherbert Monty Jr., page 294

Surely, your third book could provide some answers.

“...as Diviner Daisy Kettlebum professed one evening in her study in the spring of 1814, ‘red and purple may be one of the rarest pairings, yet the most powerful of them all’...We can see that the pairings of colours are most often more accurate indicators of fortune than the observation of a single colour.” —Colour Me Prophecy: A Witches and Wizards Guide to Colour in the Natural World, page 673

You wanted to rip your hair out, and you almost did until the portrait hole swung open. You checked the time, the clock on the wall reading five fifty-six. Students were not permitted outside the Common Room for another four minutes, although that seemed to not be an issue, for the portrait soon closed without a student emerging from it. Your eyes flashed towards your notes for a quick moment, catching your scribbled words: school of white + red and purple = bad! Your mind ran over a hundred scenarios of strange occurrences and awful happenings. Was the fruition of your omen about to ensue, a phantom which somehow got word of this week's password: Inepta Mustela?

You stood from your chair with a deep, shivering breath, walking around the table with careful steps. Nearing the portrait hole, hands slightly shaking, you craned your head around the corner. Without warning, James and Remus appeared suddenly from beneath the invisibility cloak, breaking out into a fit of unrestrained laughter. You gasped, clutching at your chest before catching up with the shock. You waited for them to stop their incessant giggling with your hands on your hips.

“You gave me a heart attack!” you scolded, voice in a whisper. Neither took your same precautions, their volume rather loud for six in the morning. James wiped a tear from his eye as their laughter died down. Finally taking in their appearance, you saw that Remus was still wearing his pajama bottoms and a jumper, though James had the sense to at least throw on a pair of jeans. “What were you both doing out anyway? I thought you two were all buttoned up now, a Prefect and Head Boy.” You motioned to them, but Remus just rolled his eyes.

“It was nothing too bad,” he said, dismissing your concerns. He threw himself down on the sofa, stretching his long legs out by the fire. You crossed your arms, staring at James with a disapproving press of your lips. He still had a smirk on his face and a blush across his cheeks from laughing. His expression practically forced you to smile. You shoved him as you walked back to your table.

“What are you doing up?” James asked, taking a seat beside Remus.

“Couldn’t sleep,” was all you said.

James peered behind the couch at you, watching as you closed your books and piled up your work into a stack. “Is that for Divination?”

You glanced up, nearly smiling again at his head contorted in such a funny manner, tipped up and to the side. Remembering you hadn’t even looked in the mirror before you can down here, you hoped you didn’t appear too ghastly. You nodded at his question, taking the books into your arms and lugging them over to the area by the fireplace.

“Yeah,” you finally answered, dropping them to the floor and sitting in one of the armchairs. “Figured I’d be productive rather than just tossing around till breakfast. I think I'm going to need more than three books, though.”

“We were productive as well,” James said with a grin.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

"Mhm,” Remus answered, tight-lipped. “Got an early morning snack from the kitchens.”

“Breakfasts only in an hour and a half, you couldn’t wait?” You chuckled as Remus shook his head rather forcefully, playing with the sleeves of his jumper.

“The heart wants what it wants.”

You left Remus and James to start getting ready for breakfast, knowing that Lily would be up by now. Thankfully, she never asked any questions when you came back into the dormitory carrying your stack of books, clearly having been up for quite some time. Dorcas was snoring from within the thin confines of her four-poster. Like most nights, she’d forgotten to cast a silencing charm. She’d blame it on simple forgetfulness, you on her sugar-high.

You were still ill at ease when you walked down to breakfast with Lily, very much looking forward to a cup of tea. Paying attention in class would be a difficult task, your thoughts muddled with an anxiety well beyond repair. If Lily noticed your nerves, she didn’t comment on them, chatting with you about a healing potion she was learning about in Alchemy instead.

In stark contrast to your own inner turmoil, there was a distinct air of excitement in the Great Hall despite the early hour. At the center of the long table at the head of the room, Dumbledore looked on as he did every morning, twinkling eyes darting beneath his half-moon glasses. A few minutes later, Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary came, the Marauders not far behind. Mary was in the year below you all, and Dorcas had taken a liking to her meek manner, seeming to make her sole purpose in life to get Mary out of her shell.

James and Remus looked rather tired as they wandered over to their seats. You smiled to yourself as they sat down, James laying his head on the table for a brief moment before he picked it back up again. He noticed you staring and narrowed his eyes, pushing up his glasses by its bridge. You smiled, shaking your head before returning your attention back to Dorcas.

“Fueling up already?” you said, watching her take a bite of an apple turnover.

She nodded, washing it down with some tea and swallowing with a single, large gulp. “I’ve got to be on my game for tomorrow. Can’t be letting those Hufflepuffs think we’re slacking.”

Hufflepuff won the quidditch House Cup last year and the entire Gryffindor team was committed to not letting it happen again. James in particular was quite serious about the matter, grabbing up any time on the pitch that he could manage. Monsieur Button, the flying instructor and referee, was growing increasingly tired of James standing outside of his office first thing every Monday morning, when the weekly practice schedules were made up.

“That's right, Meadows,” said James with the same eagerness. “All you better be thinking about from now until tomorrow morning is the Grumblesnad.”

“Don’t worry, Captain, it’s burned into my brain. I’ll be recalling your flight maneuvers on my deathbed.”

James shook his head, stabbing his fork into his sausage rather violently. “No one respects their elders anymore.”

“You’re only a week older than me,” Dorcas said with her mouth half full.

“You can build a lot of wisdom in a week,” Peter laughed.

“And I’m older than all of you,” Sirius interjected. “So, by all rights, I should be your superior, James. Just going by your own logic.”

“Then we need better logic,” you added, Lily nodding in agreement.

Through the large door, the daily influx of owls came sailing overhead and dropping off the post. Your owl swooped low, placing a copy of the Daily Prophet directly into your lap. You were undoing the ties when you heard Remus’s solemn voice from down the table.

“Just wait till we get back from classes,” he said softly to Sirius, who was sitting beside him.

Sirius’s eyes were cast down towards a letter in his hand. You saw the green wax seal and knew what lay inside. You lamented the fact his parents had to write him the day before a match. His once cheerful face had drooped, his color poor and drained. He let his long hair cover his face, not bothering to brush it back behind his ears. He slipped the letter into his bag and turned back to his friends, who were all motionless where they sat. You looked away as you saw James's expression of tribulation, sensing that watching any longer was an intrusion on a moment not meant for you to be privy to.

You opened up the paper, reading the title of the front page article, inked in thick, dark letters: DARK MARK SEEN OVER STRING OF MUGGLE MURDERS.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Sirius’s mood continued throughout Charms. You had a clear view of him across the aisle, his sullen, gray eyes half lidded and distant as they stared out into space. Once in a while, they lifted as something Professor Flitwick said grabbed his attention, though they often unfocused. Periodically, Remus would whisper something to him, or James would give him a gentle nudge with a smile. Sometimes Sirius would respond, though mostly he looked as if he were all alone, ghost-like and listless.

You gazed out of the large window behind Flitwick, watching the Forbidden Forest sway softly in the breeze. A few evergreens colored the mass of brown boughs and hefty trunks, though most of the brush remained drab. It was a dreary day out, typical for this time of year, but no less disappointing. As your gaze followed the treeline, you wondered what that bloody fish was doing right now.

You weren’t sure if you were thankful or loathsome for the mid-morning break between classes. Some studying could serve as ample distraction, or just bore you into thinking about Divination. At least you didn’t have that today, leaving all weekend to avoid the subject if you so wished. You walked out of class with Lily, though she had to leave to go to Ancient Runes with Remus and Marlene. The rest of the boys were nowhere to be found, James and Sirius likely off to the quidditch pitch to get some practice in before tomorrow morning. Alone, you weasled through the crowd of students, passing through an array of corridors towards the Astronomy Tower. Usually, it was only open for classes, but being in the Astronomy Club had its perks. You hoped no one would be up there, though it would be strange in February. The chill would be particularly nipping from high up in the tower, making it a far less appealing choice to hide out in than in autumn or spring. The temperature made no difference to you, however. You just wanted to be alone, and maybe smoke a cigarette or two.

You sat up against the wall, your red and gold scarf sitting just below your mouth. Your Transfiguration book was opened in your lap, a piece of parchment laying on one of the pages. A cigarette hung from your lips, burned all the way to the filter. You were taking notes on advanced forms of Transfiguration, cursing McGonagall for making you learn how to create an object from thin air by the end of term. Deep in concentration, you nearly missed a single crow fly by the tower a few times before landing on the railing. When it shifted its position, you caught the black blur in your peripheral, eyes coming up to meet it. Black and beady, they stared, unwavering and with an eerily human conviction. You continued to stare, transfixed by its commanding presence against the gray sky. After a few moments it made a single, harsh call before lifting up in flight, swooping down along the tower and out of sight.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You slammed your book shut, shoving everything in your bag and stomping out of the tower, feet hitting heavy against the steps. You were huffing to yourself, muttering curses at the crow as you continued down the hall. The idea that you were truly going mad crossed your mind as you noticed a few odd glances from other students loitering in the halls. You were well aware many would have already been calling you such if they knew you were putting even a single ounce of belief in Divination. However, it all was beginning to seem undeniable now. Something bad was bound to occur, a twisting pit growing in your stomach as you thought this fact over. You ran through every possibility: death, destruction, war, famine, but it all seemed equally plausible.

You mindlessly paced, fogged with a thousand contradicting explanations, the web spinning into something far more complicated than you were prepared to handle. Lost in your rumination, you hadn’t noticed you were walking straight into someone until you stumbled backward, nearly falling before an arm caught yours just in time. You looked up to see Sirius standing above you, a small smile beginning to form on his face.

“A little spacey this morning, I see,” he joked, pulling you back up to standing. You let out a short breath from your nose, straightening out your robes.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You didn’t intend to sound so snappy, frowning a bit as you saw the look upon his face and remembering what had transpired over breakfast. You considered the fact that he wasn’t at the pitch with James. If anything could clear his head, it’d be a low stakes training session. “I’m sorry, Sirius. I’ve just had a bad day is all.”

“That makes two of us,” he said, glancing down at his shoes for a moment.

“Yeah,” you began, not knowing if you should bring up what happened over breakfast. You reasoned that you had each known each other for long enough to not have to dance around the issue, at least not anymore. You knew enough about his family and his stay with the Potters to put the pieces together yourself; and you could be sure that he knew that you knew, making the whole mystery of it rather pointless. You licked your lips, unsure how to carry yourself as you spoke, “I saw that you got something from your parents.”

He nodded, eyes as distant as they were in Charms. He had not tensed up or retreated, demeanor very much unchanged. “I still haven’t opened it. I think I’m gonna wait till Sunday.”

“That's a good idea,” you said. “Why let them spoil the whole weekend.”

You wondered why he planned on opening it at all. If it were you, you’d throw it into the Common Room hearth and be done with it. However, you decided not to voice this opinion, feeling it quite out of your place.

“Knowing them, they did it on purpose. Reg probably told ‘em we had a match or something.” He let out a breathy laugh with little humor behind it. “What’s got you so distracted?”

You sighed, not quite knowing what to say or how much to reveal. “Nothing, just Divination. I’ll get over it.”

“Find out anything more?”

You shook your head. You knew you ought to return the favor; vulnerability for vulnerability, but you didn't want to put it on him right now. Sirius wandered over to the wall, zigzagging around until he leaned against it. With his legs outstretched, his gray uniform pants rose up above his ankles, revealing two different colored socks, white and navy blue. You eyed them with a mild amusement, following him over and leaning against the wall a few paces away. You both stared out of the wavy window glass silently, each stewing in your own unfavorable situations. You found yourself looking towards him, studying his profile that you had seen a million times before.

You wondered why you didn’t like Sirius but were so absurdly smitten with James. You thought it might be easier to like Sirius, who you knew would agitate you far too much to seriously date. It would be easy to put him on a shelf, to throw the hope away.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You rolled your eyes to hide your embarrassment, turning away. Now he was the one staring at you, his gaze dragging across your cheek.

“I’m sorry, Sirius,” you said, voice quiet. You didn’t see his brows knit or his eyes grow soft, continuing on with your apology, “I know I’m not what you need right now. I feel silly moping about because of Divinations of all things.”

“It’s all right,” he began, kicking off the wall to face you. “If it’s any consolation, I think the whole things rubbish. Who cares what color the fish are?”

“It’s how many, too,” you said between a faint laugh.

He was standing a ways in front of you now, shifting his weight between his feet. “It’s all random. No need to worry yourself into a fit over it.”

Your face was blank, nodding without really believing him. He walked backwards a few steps, hands stuffed into the pockets of his robe.

“I’ll see you later, hot stuff,” he said, spinning around to walk properly. “And don’t use that head of yours too much!”

You watched him go, not saying anything in return. You felt awful for him right now, far more so than you did for yourself. While you disagreed with him on the legitimacy of Divination, he was right about one thing: it was silly to worry this much about a project for class. You were forgetting one of the biggest aspects of Divination, that the future can always change. A prophecy is one thing, but you were no Seer. Simply reading a fortune through any means wasn’t enough to solidify a specific outcome. You had time to change the direction of the future, the only problem being you didn’t have the slightest idea what to change.

It wasn’t like when Professor Quattlebaum told you that you’d get soaking wet by the end of the day in fourth year. Then, you had just brought an umbrella with you. However, now that you got to thinking of it, your efforts then had been in vain. All day you had carried it with you, pleased when you and Lily were shielded from a surprise rain shower halfway through your walk about the grounds. Only, as you each headed back inside the castle, umbrella lowered, a duel between two seventh years broke out in the corridor. One had cast Aguamenti at his opponent, missing him entirely and soaking you to the bone. At least the arsehole got detention for it. You had trudged back to the Common Room, robes dripping and heavy, debating if you should go back to Quattlebaum’s office and give him a piece of your mind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You were walking to the Great Hall with Peter for lunch, each just having left from History of Magic. Like Divination, only you and he were still taking the class. Unfortunately, Peter was not as enthusiastic about the subject as you were. You and he were packed like sardines in the hallways, breaking through the bottleneck just as James, without warning, came bounding up behind you. He practically ran into your back before stepping in stride to your left. He buzzed as if a gleeful charge was running through him from his toes to the tip of his nose. The three of you stopped walking, forcing a few grumbling students to move past your huddle.

“You’re chipper,” you commented, laughing as he shrugged. He was always hyper, but this was a bit extreme even for him. Lily, Remus, and Marlene soon caught up to you, their faces all bearing the same sly grin. You gave him an odd glance, looking between him and the others.

“Excited for the match?” asked Peter. James shrugged again, a smile still on his face.

“That's part of it,” he said, bouncing a bit on his toes. Lily shook her head at him.

“Come on,” you begged the others. “What?”

“Daniel told me he heard from Caelum Waterson, who's a fifth year Hufflepuff, that Corey Luxfire’s in the Hospital Wing with a wicked spout of dragon pox,” James explained excitedly. Corey Luxfire was the best beater on the Hufflepuff team and the likeliest reason Gryffindor would have to lose. He was also a rather talented painter, head of the Hufflepuff Art Club.

“That's excellent!” you began. “Oh, but not for Corey.”

“Screw Corey,” Peter said happily. “He’ll recover– eventually.”

Lily tsked, Marlene laughing at Corey’s ill fated sickness.

“I’ll send him some flowers,” James assured, head poking towards yours. “Would that appease you?”

You pretended to think it over for a moment, hand on your chin in contemplation. “Yes, it would.”

James smiled, placing a heavy arm behind your neck, his hand placed upon your right shoulder. You hoped he’d take it off before his fingertips nearly burned five small holes through your jumper. You couldn’t bear for Lily to see you like this, as she was the last person in the whole world, besides James, that you wanted to know about your stupid infatuation. He tugged at you a bit, trying to get you to look at him again.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said after a beat, dropping his hand away with a laugh.

“You’re very odd today.” You side-eyed him, wondering if he was planning on pranking you or something of the sort, especially after his joy at seeing you jump out of your skin this morning.

“What else is new,” Remus said, smiling to himself. James glared at him before turning back to you.

“Just trying to cheer you up,” he said. You gave him a small, kind smile, appreciating the gesture.

As you rounded the corner, Dorcas and Mary were revealed to be sitting on the stone lip along one of the walls. Dorcas left Mary with a short word of goodbye upon seeing your group, running up happily to James with the same buzz.

“Did you hear–?”

“Yep, Daniel just told me,” James answered, not letting her finish. Dorcas practically jumped up and down, beginning to walk backwards in front of you down the corridor. You heard Marlene’s distinctly girlish giggle beside Lily.

“They’ve got no chance without him,” Dorcas said with a wolfish grin. “Last year he took me out for good, the bloody knobsnarker. It was the only reason we lost. And he gave me a bruise the size of a melon. But the whole team's rubbish except for Corey.”

James hummed, head bobbing from side to side. “Poppy’s not too bad of a seeker.”

“She’s no match for me, though. We’ve got it in the bag tomorrow.” Dorcas smirked, turning on her heels and butting her way between you and James. She threw an arm around your shoulders just as James had, glancing down at you with a pestering look in her eyes. “You’ve got to promise me you’ll get good and drunk tomorrow night after I win.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know, no promises. Maybe if Sirius makes that potion…even then you’ll have to bribe me.” Sirius made the best hangover cure in all of Hogwarts, but it was a pain in the arse and took forever to brew. You practically had to beg him to give you some every time you needed it, and that only worked about half the time. He had the tendency to hoard it for the especially bad mornings and would only give it up if you were on your deathbed.

“I’ll steal some for you,” James offered. “I know where his stash is.”

“He might have charmed it. You know how protective he is over the stuff,” you remind him, though James didn’t seem to consider that enough of a deterrent. “Where is he, anyway?”

James, Remus, and Peter stalled for a moment, Remus speaking up first, “I don’t know. He said he’d meet James at the pitch, but he never showed.”

You were just about to tell them you saw him in the hall, but Peter interrupted.

“He’s probably off snogging Seraphina ,” he drawled, her name spoken like a curse. James groaned, a disgusted look upon his face.

“She seems nice enough,” said Lily in her defense.

“And a drag,” James countered. “Even you’re more fun than she is.”

Lily scoffed at the comparison. “You’re a real tosser, you know that?”

“Here we go,” said Remus.

You snickered, sharing a glance with Marlene. No wonder they broke up , said her eyes. At least they're still friends , yours replied.

“I will have you know that I am loads of fun, right Marls?” Lily asked, turning to her friend. Marlene nodded quickly, raising her chin at James.

“Yes, she is, Potter. Wizards chess and extracurricular academic reading are very exciting and quite the riot!”

You started laughing along with the others, though Lily remained straight faced. You didn’t notice her winding up for a sucker punch until it was too late.

“Yeah, and Y/N is too. We all know how much the Astronomy Club helps you wind down and let loose.”

James howled, as did Dorcas, whose arm grew a bit tighter round your shoulders. You shoved it off, scoffing as Peter continued to snort. You ought to have called them all nerds, as Lily and James consistently got better marks than you, and your grades were on par with Remus and Marlene’s, but you decided to let it slide. A good jab was a good jab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

After the double period of DADA, everyone was done with classes for the day, all light on their feet as the weekend neared its beginning. You and Lily we set to go to the library like you did most Friday’s after class, trying to convince Dorcas to come along.

“It’ll be fun,” Lily begged, moving out of the way for some other students to pass. Dorcas shook her head, looking back at James and Sirius who were itching to leave. It was most certainly not Dorcas's idea of fun to spend an afternoon at the library of all places, though Lily never ceased her efforts. You swore you’d only seen Dorcas there once or twice during your entire stint at Hogwarts.

“I’m going to the pitch, you wanker. Potter'll kill me if I don’t!” She looked back at the Marauders, James waving her on anxiously. He hopped up a few times in the air, his movements increasing in their intensity.

Lily's hands came to her hips, peering over Dorcas’s shoulder at James. He had turned back to the others, still antsy, but listening to something Remus was saying.

“Potter!” Lily shouted. James turned quickly, his tie undone and swinging onto one shoulder. “Can’t you spare Dorcas for an hour?”

James sighed, eyes rolling back as he slouched forward. “No, Evans , I can’t! We just barely got the time away from the Hufflepuffs!” He glanced between you and Lily before piping up again, “Wanna come and watch?”

Lily scoffed. “You’re sounding more and more like Sirius these days.”

James shrugged with a teasing grin, looking towards you. “Come on, don’t you wanna see your best mate in action?” He moved around like he was on a broom before adjusting the bag slung across his shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the match,” you reminded him. “And who says you’re my best mate?”

Sirius smiled a genuine, full smile, and it made you happy to know your insult towards James is what did it. Remus made a pained face as if he had just watched James fall from his imaginary broom.

“ Uh! ” James gasped, taking a few heavy steps closer. “I said you’re my new favorite, does that mean anything to you?”

Godric, why does he have to do this? You really wished this little schtick could end so you could go back to pretending James didn’t even like you all that much.

“You both can fight about it later,” said Lily, linking your arms. “We’ve got to nab the good tables before the first years hog them.”

“Have fun,” Dorcas said with a wave, walking towards Sirius. James stood and shook his head at you.

“I’ll see you!” you called to no one in particular. Lily dropped your arm and you both began to speed walk towards the library. Halfway there you could feel her staring at you through the corner of your eye. You sighed, glancing over. She had an odd, uncharacteristic smirk upon her face. You didn’t know whether you should be frightened or not.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said, her skirt dancing to and fro as she walked.

Chapter Three

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter/reader #marauders era #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter angst

24 notes · View notes

37googolplex · 2 days ago

Text

Alright, Rise April and Donnie mean SO much to me and it’s not even FUNNY. They’ve always been my top two favorites since watching, and my resolve on liking them really only got stronger after watching Donnie v. Witch town. (Objectively the best episode, by the way, but I digress—) this is the perfect segue to discuss how Donnie v. Witch Town was probably the BEST April/donnie centric episode in all of rise.

And although this is incredibly opinionated and biased, as this specific episode just so happens to be my FAVORITE episode, I still will put my cognitive bias aside and give you, the audience, solid evidence as to why this episode: Donnie V. Witch Town—is objectively the best episode in 1) explaining how and why Donnie acts the way he does, 2) demonstrating the strength of Donnie and Aprils friendship and Sibling-hood.

1) EXPLAINING WHY DONNIE IS THE WAY HE IS:

Okokok. So. Without a doubt, this is tumblr, and therefore, technically, I DONT need to explain Donnie’s autistic coding. But I still will because I for one am autistic and seeing such good rep makes me so happy that I just NEED to talk about it 24/7. If this is getting repetitive you can skip ahead. But if you don’t, this is some important foresight that changes the theme of Donnie V. Witch Town substantially, even though it may not seem like it. But I will make it quick so I can get to my main point: Donnie is Autistic. His coding is very prevalent and obvious, and saying he ISNT is autistic erasure. Donnie infodumps when he gets the chance to about his inventions, interests, or otherwise, and often gets hyperfixations very easily. (FAB spray, his dubbed “speech mode” from Leo, basically the entirety of Donnie’s gifts episode (which plays a lot heavily into Donnie v witch town just you wait), atomic lass, purple game). Donnie also has a so-called “monotonous” voice and has a limited tonal range. He isn’t very good with displaying or understanding emotions, especially when it comes to other peoples emotions, (like when Mikey was crying over Mike Tony’s pizzeria closing down, and Donnie saying “now that we’ve all moved on-“ mere seconds after explaining why he never liked Mike Tony’s. And then later saying “I WAS ONLY PRETENDING TO BE SAD WHEN IT HAPPENED TO MIKEY BUT NOW THAT IT HAPPENED TO ME, I HURT” when his favorite closes down too) despite this despite this (one off gag) however, Donnie isn't an emotional brick wall and understands negative emotions and feelings. But because of his low empathy coding Donnie simply just can’t FEEL that. Donnie also has a multitude of sensory issues that are sprinkled in across the whole series (such as, flavorless juice, prioritizing comfort, the battle shell and the whole deal with his soft shell, AND THE RISE MOVIE. Iykyk.)

Now that all of us have either had a good refresher of what happened OR, contrarily, educated on the matter, let’s all go back to the episode of Donnie’s gifts. This episode is an extremely important one in context with Donnie V. Witch town, and totally changes the perspective of that episode (in my not so humble opinion) when watching it from that lens. If you recall properly, Donnie’s gifts was basically about Donnie, well, making his brother, gifts. That end up being more harmful than good.

However, A lot of people miss the intention of that episode. Donnie wasn’t being a pretentious a-hole just because he could be a pretentious a-hole. He didn’t make these devices that basically hamper his brothers more and call out their every mistake JUST to pick on them and make them feel bad. Absolutely NOT. His INTENTION with MAKING those devices—(albeit concerning)—was in good faith. He made those devices because he GENUINELY thought, wholeheartedly, that they would help. And of course this isn’t really an EXCUSE for making your brother a shock collar that sends a 4000 watt jolt through his body every time he says a one off pun, but rather an explanation for Donnie’s behavior. Donnie made those devices, because he loves his brothers, and he wants to help them. And yeaaah it didn’t really, BUT HE GENUINELY THOUGHT IT WOULD. He says, before presenting the gifts: “(these gifts) are a whole lot more personal and if you don’t like them I will just be crushed!”

But why, you ask, why on earth would Donnie think that making THOSE THINGS even help his brothers, and why on earth would they like them? (Or maybe you’re not even asking that. Hell if I know, I’m just a ND teen ranting on the internet. Let me obsess over mutant turtles in peace!) I’m glad you asked. This is because I FIRMLY believe that Donnie uses his tech in the sense that he created that tech for his brothers, which is, helping or aiding him and his weaknesses when it comes to situations. We know that out of the bunch, Donnie is objectively the weakest (not very sports oriented, has a traditionally defensive weapon than offensive, ((but do not misconstrue my words this does not mean he is WEAK just in comparison to his brothers he’s on the lower end of the strength spectrum.))) and his tech highly heightens his skills. It helps him be more agile, attack with more vantage points—hell, his (soft)shell alone is a negative variable, and you know what fixed that!? HIS TECH THATS WHAT! Because of this reliance on his tech he assumed that his brothers would need or want that same reliance or help, even though they cope with their own issues in very different ways. And of course Donnie’s tech to help his own issues isn’t literally physically harmful, but I genuinely just think that Donnie’s Gifts was just made this way for the slapstick humor. (Sometimes there isn’t a deeper meaning to things and it’s just what it is. Guys I know we’re all big over-analyzers but this is still a Nickelodeon cartoon sometimes it’s just goofy for the goofs. :P) however Donnie’s gifts was such an important episode to me because it showed me the biggest way Donnie shows his love: Acts of service and Gift Giving.

Donnie LOVES doing stuff for people. He goes the goddamn EXTRA MILE to show off what he did for others, what he made for them; what he’ll DO for them, he’s not good with words or physical touch but my boy will LITERALLY fly you to the moon and back while reciting what happened on the Apollo missions and the space race with 100% accuracy. And there is so much proof of this SO MUCH. (When he made the hazmat suits, when he tried to fix albearto by making him “dazzle”, donniepods, etc…) his love for others and how he shows it is totally entirely transactional. This is how HE does it. And better yet,(?) he likes this. He LIKES being the tech guy, the fixer upper, he likes being called on for help and his prodigious skill because it makes him seem useful and more than that LOVED, and this is what he wants and desires sooo badly. To be USEFUL.

See where this is going? :)

Segue to Donnie V. Witch town. April, his best friend, is not seeking out HIS HELP for a school project, despite the fact that she almost always does. Instead, April is seeking out the HELP OF WITCHES, and Donnie simply has to tag along and help her get help. Donnie literally questions this and April states that it’s because when he helps school projects can uh, go a bit overboard.

See the parallels between Donnie’s gifts and Donnie v. Witch town?

Donnie tries to help, ends up not going so well, and he ends up not even helping at all in the first place. Double whammy.

And assuming we’ve all WATCHED Donnie V. Witch town, this same cycle repeats again. ESPECIALLY with the worms, and just when his pretentiousness and need to be right and PROVEN better gets in the way. His self righteousness is also his biggest fault. And everything goes wrong and he just wanted to help. And yeah, Donnie V. Which town is different because his broken ego is at play but WHY is he taking this so personally? BECAUSE APRIL DIDNT ASK HIM FOR HELP. It further strengthens his negative self talk of being useful and usefulness. Since, objectively speaking, he shows his love quantitively, when April has no desire for him to help her; what good is he even for anymore?! HOW WILL APRIL EVER LIKE HIM AGAIN IF HE ISNT HELPFUL!!!! HOW!?? He set this standards and he can’t even hit them? What is he if not useful? And with the context of Donnie’s gifts and how he really, truly, just wishes to help others, Donnie v. Which town is honestly saddening. I was honestly on Donnie’s side the whole time. Fuck those witches dude. And yes, what he did was bad. He should have been more open minded, and he shouldn’t have kinda messed up the entire witch tradition, and NO I am not making excuses here. But you must also remember that this is a teenager. He’s literally just a kid, and nevertheless from his perspective it’s honestly a betrayal. Again not an excuse but rather an explanation. Yes he fucked up but WHY? And the whole conversation with April really pushes it. “Because I’m the science guy—If mystic powers can do everything I can but better, then why would you guys even need me?”

Why would they *NEED* him.

Why, if mystic powers, can do it better—why would they NEED him.

It’s always a NEED for Donnie. He doesn’t quite seem to understand that mystic powers are a tool. And he is HE. He isn’t replaceable, but he thinks he is because there’s something more efficient than he is. He, essentially, sees himself like a tool, which is a mantra many autistic people have, including me. And although I joke about that line a lot it’s actually a really heartbreaking line. And if you guys see the scrapped storyboard..well.. why don’t I just show you…

“Solving problems with my tech is ALL IM GOOD FOR.”

“When you chose magic instead of me, I got scared, …”

Ouch.

This storyboard is infinitely more raw and personal and honestly I’m upset they didn’t go with it. If this doesn’t show you how deeply this matters to Donnie—how personal it is to him that people ask him to help them I DONT KNOW WHAT WILL.

Donnie is the way he is because it all builds up to his deepest insecurities, that people love him because he’s useful to them, and he goes and searches for validation and appreciation like a vulture looking for a carcass. He is so fucking desperate for a hint of being useful that he will throw everything he has to prove it. ((I’ll also do an analysis of relating this to the purple dragons episode because, albeit less angsty or obvious, these themes are very prevalent there too.))

Thus, this concludes my first point on how Donnie Vs. Witch town is the BEST episode to point out how Donnie’s insecurities truly affect him in every way shape and form, and how it really makes him who he is and why he acts the way he acts. It’s all out of the desire, the need to be needed. Next up: April’s response and how it shows their deep connection and how it’s just. So amazing. This half is more opinionated but I digress .

2) demonstrating the strength of Donnie and Aprils friendship and Sibling-hood!!!

Aprils response to this is equally as important. Aprils response is actually BEAUTIFUL.

“Donnie, how could you say that!? You’re not important to me because of your tech or science, you’re important to me because of YOU.”

That. Is by far. The best response you could POSSIBLY EVER GIVE. And her sentence is really self explanatory. Donnie doesn’t see her as a tool, or measures the extent of their friendship by what she brings to the table so why should she? Or, rather, why should Donnie measure that for himself?

She loves him because he’s HIM. Because he’s a nerdy loveable dork that’s passionate about what he loves. Because he loves HER. This is also the most vulnerable Donnie has ever been with somebody, and it’s with April.

“We do things better as a team,” AND APRILS RIGHT!!!! She’s his older sister. She’s his pal, Buddy, ride or die, and it’s—just—this whole Situation, their whole friendship, and this whole arc in Donnie v witch town means SO much to me. I really just realized how opinionated this second part is but let me be. And unfortunately I’ve reached the god forsaken image limit but Aprils further discussion in the storyboard of Donnie v. witch town also just further pushes how close and comfortable they are with each other. Basically, April says:

“Magic and science are just tools, it’s how you choose to use them that matters. And you choose to help people.”

MY FUCKING HEART DUDE. Agh. Shattered. “You chose to help people.”

I feel like it’s that line that really just pushes it for me. YOU CHOOSE TO HELP PEOPLE DONNIE DONT YOU SEE? ITS YOUR INTENT THAT MATTERS. And I’ll say this over and over and over again but intent means so much when it comes to things. April, using this line, doesn’t entirely dismiss what Donnie feels and says and does. But rather, puts a healthier perspective on his behaviors and needs to be “useful.” Shes basically saying: “you try to do what’s right, and that’s what matters.”

I love April. SO MUCH. She is such a good friend and sister and supporter, and honestly I wish I had someone like her growing up. Again I really wish they went with the storyboards because it’s so much more personal and touching than what happened. #aprilsweep.

Aprils support for Donnie (as well as his brothers) is unconditional. This is also observed in other Donnie and April centric episodes, especially the purple satin jackets episode, where April does call Donnie to check on her code which he does so with much valiance, before he gets roped into the purple dragons and stuff—and then at the end, when Donnie defeatedly talks about how he just couldn’t be a part of them , April replies with: “it’s okay, you’ll always be part of the April O’Neil dorky pals for life club.” I wish we got more of rise because I would KILL for more Donnie n April centric episodes.

Anywho, have a happy thanksgiving guys. Make sure to tell your autistic friend that it doesn’t matter if mystic powers are better than them or not. Watch tmnt and listen to stomu yamashta. Thank you and goodnight.

24 notes · View notes

lasanya539 · 2 days ago

Text

no restitution comes tonight

(based on this piece by @darkpolicepsycho)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles TW: Mentions of Su!cide Word Count: 5647

Posted on AO3!

---

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission, Donnie thinks.

It's dark in the med bay, the lights are turned down. The digital clock on the wall blinks to 2:35, 2:36, 2:37 A.M. It's cold in here, but it doesn't bother him. The purple hoodie he's wearing should be preserving some heat, but Donnie genuinely can't feel a thing. The sensations of his body are a far-away concept, like sand between his fingers, slipping away no matter how much he tries to hold on to them.

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission.

He blinks. And blinks again. For the first time since that night, his brain registers a feeling: dry eyes, crusty and in pain. Surely the result of staring at his purple holograms for the last few hours. A multitude of readings crowd the screens, the numbers changing with the continuous recordings of heart rate and blood pressure and body heat and pulse ox levels and— He breathes, turning his eyes away. The holograms glow in the room. His eyes track the shadows they form on the bed against the wall, haloing its occupant in a pretty lavender hue as he sleeps on.

Donnie stands up, bones creaking. He stretches, hearing something in his back crack; he’s been slouched over the plastic chair of the med bay for hours now. He walks to the stretcher, quietly, towards a slumbering Leo.

It's weird to see him like this. So vulnerable. Leo's notorious insomnia, combined with how light of a sleeper he is, has made it nearly impossible for any of the brothers to catch him passed out on them. It's almost always the other way around: Raph on the couch after a movie marathon, Mikey on the kitchen table surrounded by comics, Donnie in his lab chair after a night of obsessing over his newest hyperfixation. They always wake up to find a warm blanket tucked over their shoulders, and a silly stuffed toy by their heads to greet them in the morning.

Donnie gulps, running a gentle hand over the blanket that covers Leo now. As much as he wishes, this isn't a night of miraculous deep sleep for his twin, a full eight hours of Leo's perpetually tired mind cycling through all stages of NREM and REM.

No, he thinks, turning to check his vitals again. This is much worse.

It was just supposed to be an extraction mission.

The objective was simple: get into the Hidden City, into Witch Town, sneak into the Museum of Mystical Artefacts and Gems, steal an obsidian diamond dagger, and leave unobtrusively. That was it, that was all. The Mad Dogs have done dozens of similar missions in the past. Granted though, the stakes of this one were a bit higher: the mystical obsidian, inlaid with unrefined diamond, was apparently the only thing strong enough to destroy the Krang key. And the sooner they got rid of the wretched thing, the better.

It had been going well; they snuck in and pulled off the heist, with the weapon safely tucked away with Raph, and they were on their way out, leaving behind a decoy without tripping any of the alarms. Everything had been perfect.

Until Donatello was recognized. By none other than the mayor of Witch Town.

Mira singled him out almost immediately, her shrill voice drawing the attention of all the Witch Town residents out and about. He'd been naive enough to believe that his little feud from two years ago would have been forgotten, an old mistake made by the last vestiges of his youthful arrogance. But he was wrong, very wrong.

And Leo paid for it.

He should have seen the verbal attacks coming, he really should have. He also shouldn't have responded to her accusations with barbs of his own, already on the defense, angry, and jeopardizing their extremely important mission. Leo's voice was clear in the comms in his ear, the calm and collected leader, telling him to back off before things got worse. But he didn't listen, until there was a whole crowd of angry witches surrounding him.

He could've managed it, Donnie thinks bitterly now, a finger on his brother's pulse point on his wrist. Fine, okay, he might have blown some stuff up, caused much more of a scene than any of them planned for on this trip, but he could have managed it. But his stupid, self-sacrificial twin just had to jump in the middle of the conflict, Face-Man routine on full blast.

Leo and his crowd-working, situation-diffusing skills, managed to calm almost everyone down. One lie here, one exaggeration here, one self-deprecating joke there, and the people were in the palm of his hand, swept up into the Neon Leon magic. No one could argue with that bright grin and those confident, shining eyes, as Leo hooked an arm over Donnie's shoulder and started to guide him out.

He managed to fool hundreds of witches and wizards. Except Mira.

Donnie noticed her a second too late, didn't see her narrowed stare and tightening grip on her staff. His eyes were for Leo only, watching a side of his twin he hadn’t seen surface in weeks, not sure if he was glad for the reappearance or not.

When he finally did see her, he barely had time to gasp, seeing her staff pointed directly to the center of his plastron. He’d braced himself in that one millisecond, squeezing his eyes shut. Before he was forcefully pushed out of the way.

A veilbreaker curse, Draxum had called it, when he was frantically summoned to the lair as the three brothers rushed a passed-out Leo back home. Mikey had nearly been in tears, hiccuping into the phone call, begging him to bring all his books on any kind of mystic knowledge to them. The alchemist had stood over Leo, a hand resting on his forehead with a gentleness only their own father had ever shown them, an ancient scroll open in front of him as he recited, Shatter the facade and lay bare the soul.

Donnie grips Leo's hand tightly now, gritting his teeth.

With one wayward swipe, he makes all his floating holograms disappear. The readings they're showing him are irrelevant to Leo’s real condition.

He fixes the goggles on his head over his eyes, tapping the side to activate the long-hidden crystal. His breath catches in his lungs at the sight before, the same way it did when he first looked through the mystic lenses.

Ichor. The golden blood that flows in the veins of gods. Comes from the Greek word ikhṓr. It's a bit of a misconception, actually, that ichor is gold in color. Several representations of Greek mythology disagree, some arguing for blue, some arguing for plain red.

Still, it's the only word that comes to Donnie's mind, as he watches the liquid drip down the edges of Leo's face, tear-like droplets rolling off his head, cheek, temple, chin. As if a mask has been carved out of his face, and the wound is oozing, like blood seeping from a deep gash.

He shudders out a breath, and forcefully takes off the goggles. The horrifying vision disappears, and he's greeted with the simple sleeping visage of his twin.

It doesn't make it any easier. Donnie presses his knuckles into his lips. In fact, it makes it all the more terrifying. It’s a problem lying beyond the physical reach. Beyond Donnie's reach. Something's broken, something needs to be fixed, something that’s hurting his family, and he can't fix it.

He's a man of science. And despite the lessons he’s learned over the last many months, mysticism is still the one thing he can't solve.

He squeezes Leo's hand once more involuntarily, trying to subdue the swell of emotions rising in his body, grounding himself with the vice-like grip.

"Dude. Ow."

He jolts in response, retracting immediately as his heart thunders in his chest. "S-sorry, shit. Sorry."

Leo's bleary eyes peer up at him through the slight frown of someone unwillingly woken up. He blinks at him once, then yawns, languidly stretching, not unlike a cat.

Donnie lets out a snort against his will. Leo gives him a look.

"Somethin' funny?" He mumbles, as if his brain isn't completely online yet. "You know it's not nice to use my actions against me when I'm not even awake enough to recite the first ten digits of pi yet."

"You're never awake enough for that." He responds.

Leo rubs his nose sleepily, still managing to look miffed. “I know the first ten digits.” He grouses. “Three, one, four, one. Uh…”

“Uh-huh.” Donnie says, voice tinged with amusement at the familiar bantering. “Keep going, genius. Next number is a five.”

Leo seems to think for a minute, before he huffs. “Whatever, I know the digits, okay? I’m just not awake enough for them right now.”

Donnie’s lip twitches. Leo bends and reaches over the side of the stretcher, pressing the button on the side that raises the angle of the head section, until he nestles in comfortably in a semi-sitting position.

"Better?" Donnie asks, as he rubs at his eyes, trying to wake himself up.

All of a sudden, Leo freezes, like the lightening bolt of realization strikes him at once. He jolts forwards with a panicked look. Donnie startles.

"The dagger!" He exclaims, reaching out to grip him tightly to convey his urgency. "The – the whole Witch Town thing! Did we figure it out? Are Mikey and Raph—"

"They're all fine." Donnie interrupts, resting a comforting hand over the fingers as they dig into his forearm. "We figured it out. The dagger and key are with the Caseys, and the three of us got out safe, I promise.”

Leo stares into Donnie's eyes longer, as if trying to decide for himself. The hesitation at believing him stings, a silent question lingering between them. But then he eventually sighs, his relief palpable, lying back and letting go.

"Okay, okay, that's good." Leo breathes, smiling at him. "You're all okay, that's great."

He purses his lips. "Yeah." He says curtly. "All of us except you."

Leo blinks, as if surprised. Donnie gapes at him; he hadn’t hurt his head, and the spell that hit him wasn’t a memory spell, right?

“You got hurt, Leonardo. Ring any bells? Why do you think you’re in the med bay right now?”

“Oh… oh, yeah, I remember.” He responds, somehow sounding even more dismissive about it. “But I’m not in pain at all, and it doesn’t feel like I’m not on meds. So I’m fine, then.”

Leo starts shifting, throwing off his blanket as if he was planning on leaving, but Donnie’s cutthroat glare stops him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He demands. “That witch hit you with a curse, dum-dum, you’re staying here.”

Leo barely looks moved. Was he just planning on getting hexed and going about his life like normal?

Still, he asks obligatorily, "What kind of curse?"

"Does it matter?" Donnie snaps. Of course it does, but Leo’s nonchalance at the whole matter is pissing him off further. "If I tell you it's nothing, you'll act like it's nothing, won't you?"

"Dude, if it's nothing, then why would I bother anyone with it?"

The reply seems to stupefy both of them. Leo genuinely looks stunned at himself, eyes wide at the extremely honest answer. Donnie mirrors him, before composing himself.

"Even if it was nothing, I would want to be bothered with it." He says slowly, hoping to convey how clear that expectation was, but then shakes his head. "And it wasn't nothing. It was a curse, a genuine curse. It was all - pink and glowy and ominous." He gestures with his hands, driving his point home. "Draxum said it was a veilbreaker. Ancient, powerful magic. Enough to make you pass out." He emphasizes again. How is Leo not getting that through his thick skull?

He still just sits there like an idiot, as if he still doesn't understand the problem. "But I’m fine now, right?"

Donnie wants to be difficult on purpose, make some kind of joke about you're supposed to be the medic, you tell me. But it's too late in the night for taunts, and the image of glowing ichor from before keeps flashing behind his eyelids.

"Your vitals are normal." He reports. "As far as I can tell, you're physically fine—"

"Then we're good, jeez—"

"But mystically," Donnie continues, irate, "you’re not. There's enough energy emanating off of you that Draxum clocked you the second he stepped foot in the lair. He's worried, dumbass. And if Draxum is worried, you know it's bad."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Leo asks, a tad sharper than Donnie expects. He’s scowling at him, like he's the one getting irritated. "Sit in a bed, wait for Mikey's Pops to give me the all-clear?"

"Yes." Donnie pauses before he forces the word out, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're supposed to wait until you're better to get back to... whatever it is you're planning on getting back to! Is that seriously such a surprise to you?"

Leo just huffs, crossing his arms and almost pouting, like a child. Sometimes his twin boggles his mind.

"Are you being purposefully obtuse for some reason?” Donnie asks, exasperatedly.

"I don't feel any different than normal, dude, and I have more important things to do—"

"Like what? Read a Jupiter Jim comic I know you've read a billion times before? Drink enough caffeine to give a horse a heart attack? Go walk around New York City in the middle of the night? Yeah, I know about that," Donnie adds when Leo looks surprised. "Of course I know about that, who the hell do you take me for? I told you, I have trackers on everyone and on everything."

Leo bares his teeth at him, pissed. "Stop fucking tracking me."

"Stop getting into trouble." He responds, and maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Leo's face transforms from anger into hurt so quickly it gives him whiplash.

Donnie promptly tries to do some damage control, guilty. "No, that's not what I meant."

"No, that is." Leo bluntly states. He's gripping the edge of the blanket tightly, eyes narrow. "You mean that. You think all I do is 'get into trouble'.’

"Okay, no, stop twisting my words, that's not what I fucking said." Donnie almost snarls. God, he hates when Leo does this, taking one thing he's spoken in a moment of anger and distorting it, sharpening it to a point. Like a knife to stab himself with, whether to prove something to Donnie or to himself, no one knows. "That is not 'all you do'. But I have a tracker on you because I’m worried about you. It’s the exact same reason why I have a tracker on Raph and Mikey and April and Dad.”

Leo looks a little mollified, and Donnie ignores the quiet voice in the back of his mind that calls him a liar.

"You don't have to be that worried about me, Dee." He replies. Genuine, tired. "I'm all good, I always am."

Donnie has to remind himself to take the next breath, despite it feeling like it's been squeezed out of him. A ball of frustration rises in his throat, and he manages to speak around it gruffly, "Why did you take the hit for me, Leo?"

Leo blinks again, either at the question or the tone, it's hard to tell. "Huh?"

"The curse." He grits out. "Why did you jump and take the hit, when you knew Mira aimed it at me?"

"Because there was no way in hell I was going to let you get hurt," comes the immediate reply, and it's sincere, it's so sincere that it once again shocks Leo, who refuses to meet his eye.

"Even at your own expense?" Donnie asks, desperation tainting his voice. "Leo. That spell could have been anything, from – from a dumb itching hex to a fucking Avada Kedavra, don't you understand that?"

“Yeah, of course I understand that.” He responds with equal fervor. “Which is why I couldn't let it hit you."

"So you took it?"

"Yeah, Don, ‘cause it's fine if it’s me!"

Hysterically, Donnie wonders if they're in a telenovela, and the words exclaimed by Leo are repeatedly echoing in the room as loudly as they are echoing between his eardrums. If there really is dramatic music playing in the background, or if it's just an overwhelming buzzing happening in his mind, drowning out all other sounds.

There are faint flickers of gold at the edges of Leo's face, just barely present, shimmering like the surface of a liquid, as he heaves out a breath. He curls up into a ball, knees tucked in, trying to hide, as if that would take the words out of the air.

Donnie can feel his brain whirring, thoughts and equations and memories playing on repeat, trying to figure out the basis of this outlandish concept that his twin has somehow ingrained into his psyche. That somehow, Leo getting hurt is 'fine', in any context.

He can't think of a single reason why.

Well. A single valid reason, anyway.

Because the reality is that he knows Leo. All that bolstering and blabbering and omitting and deflecting; it all can fool others, fool the world, fool their father, sometimes even their other siblings. But it can’t fool Donnie.

Not Donnie, because he's watched him create this… other version of himself, slowly and meticulously. He’s been an audience to his twin picking up this role like an ill-fitting shirt, carefully tearing and stitching and stretching and pulling at it over the years, until he grew into it flawlessly. A perfect cover, so that putting it on or taking it off would make no difference. Blurring the line between them into indiscernibility, so no one would be able to tell there was anything missing in the first place. Like a Schrödinger's Leo, except the cat and the box are one and the same. Can't see the cat without looking into the box; can’t find the box without asking the cat.

But Donnie can see it in front of him, both the box and the cat, now that the veil has been broken. Hamato Leonardo. The facade shattered and soul laid bare. The mask carved out and the ichor trickling away.

He closes his eyes and lets out a bitter scoff, tinged with dark amusement. Who knew witches had a penchant for poetic irony?

"You think you getting hurt is better than any of us getting hurt?" Donnie asks him, point blank.

Leo curls into himself more, eyes flitting away, the action an answer in itself. The gold tears marring the sides of his face shine a little brighter, highlighting his red stripes unnaturally.

"You think – what? You don't want to see us hurt, so you'd rather take it?" He blinks back the wet burning he feels in his eyes. "Don't you think we don't want to see you hurt either? For any of our sakes?"

Leo sniffles into his arms. "It's not the same."

"Why?" Donnie implores. "What makes you so different from us?"

Leo looks away, but he puts a hand around his arm and pulls roughly, almost toppling him. Leo tries to jerk back, but Donnie glares at him angrily.

"No, answer me." He asks, done with it. "Why do you think you’re so different, huh? What gives you the right to be so... so arrogant, to hold yourself to a different standard than us?"

Leo frees himself, appalled. The ichor glows and drips. "It's not arrogance!"

"Then what is it?" Donnie snaps. "Self-hatred? Self-pity? Sheer idiocy?"

"It's my job!" Leo finally exclaims, eyes wide and earnest. A powerful visage dripped in gold, tension present every line of his body. Donnie’s throat dries at the sight, eyes ticking over the liquid covering him.

"To protect what's important is my job, Donatello. You and Raph and Mikey - the Hamato clan would be nothing without you three. This family would be nothing without you three. It’s like - it’s like Raph is our earth, our ground, what we stand upon. Mikey is our sun, our happiness. And you are our air, all-encompassing and ever-present. You're needed."

Leo gurgles out a laugh, all distorted in pain and sorrow. The ichor gushes out of his whole face, falling into his eyes and dripping over his nose and lips, fat drops rolling off into his hoodie and blankets. "What the hell do I do, dude? Be the Face-Man? The Face-Man isn't even fucking real, Donnie, it's just a ruse. I'm just a ruse." His eyes, wet with gold and salt, bore into him in a piercing gaze.

"All I have are my stupid swords and my portals, and - what did I used to call it? My rad ninjosity?” He scoffs resentfully. “None of it is real, man, there's nothing here. If there was, I wouldn't have caused the end of the goddamn world, we wouldn't have ever needed that stupid dagger to break the key, no one would have been cursed."

He covers his eyes with his arm, the sobs he's trying to suppress making themselves known in short, staccato hiccups. "You’re right, you know. All I do is get in trouble, mess things up. But I try so fucking hard to stop. I train in the dojo, I work out at night when I can’t sleep – I’m trying to get better. Because if I-I can't even keep you safe, what the hell am I here for?"

Donnie's vision is blurry, his heart breaking messily, as Leo openly cries, hiding himself out of shame. There are words that he should say to his twin, comforting, validating assurances. Yet all Donnie can do is slowly raise his hand to cradle his cheek, right over the mystical wound, around the edges of his stripes. The soft touch makes Leo peer at him, an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but all he can focus on is the drip, drip, drip of the golden liquid onto his palm.

It feels warm, like real blood, shimmering over his green skin. But it sends a cold shiver through his whole body as it trickles down his arm.

Leo just watches him, as the final dregs of his mask finally fall off, bleed off. Donnie watches the ichor disappear into mystical nothingness, a vague and uncomfortable mixture of horror and relief forming in his chest.

He lifts his gaze, and comes face-to-face with Leo. The real Leo. Laid bare.

Donnie can't help it any longer, he lurches forward, practically pouncing on him as he hugs him in a crushing embrace. Leo doesn't even hesitate, burying himself into the crook of his neck.

Donnie runs a flat, comforting hand over his shell through his blue hoodie, trying to calm down the stuttering breaths. Tears escape from his eyes that he rushes to brush away. Now is not about him.

"Is this what the root problem has been?" He finally asks, quietly. "Is this what's been driving you, this entire time?"

Leo just squeezes him tighter, like he'd rather just fuse and disappear into the embrace. Donnie closes his eyes, understanding the need on a fundamental level, in a way only two twins ever could.

"It just made sense." Leo eventually whispers into the silence as they hold each other. "Jumping for you. It made sense."

Crack. Another fissure in his already-broken heart. Donnie's head falls onto his shoulder.

Does Leo even mean it like that? Does he know how that statement applies beyond the confines of a random spell by a random witch in the Hidden City?

Jumping for you in front of a curse. Jumping for you in front of a demon. Jumping for you into hell.

Donnie sniffles loudly. "And if it had killed you?"

He'd asked him that once, before. Weeks ago, when it was a quiet night after the worst day of their lives, right here in the med bay. Twins sitting side by side, two stretchers set up right next to each other so they could hold hands as they recovered. When a drug-induced exhaustion had numbed away their pretenses into asking anything that came to mind.

Shame that the drugs had wiped away any memory of the answer he got.

Donnie wonders vaguely if it had been the same answer he gets now, if Leo had given him as much of an undisguised truth as he does now.

"You would have survived." A hoarse voice near his ear. "You would have hurt for a bit, but you would have survived."

Donnie can't help the upset sob that tears through him at that answer, how it makes Leo startle, and squeeze him even harder.

Because that's the worst part, right? Truth is subjective, completely utterly subjective, as infuriating that is to a scientist. It's not as simple as holding up a book and asking two people sitting on opposite sides if it's red or black. It's holding up a book and asking two people sitting on opposite sides which it deserves to be, red or black. Which is better, which is worse? Which color connotes it as good, bad, noble, unworthy? Depends on the person, right? After all, which one of them is holding the book?

"I'm sorry." Leo whispers, and he’s being honest, Donnie knows it. "I'm so sorry."

It’s a mangled truth, though. "Sorry enough to never do it again?"

Leo doesn't reply. Another tear rolls off Donnie’s face.

"I wouldn't survive." He says. Starting off somewhere, a real, honest truth. No masks, no disguises, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. No subjectivity.

"If it killed you, if anything killed you," including yourself, Donnie adds silently, knowing this moment is far too tender to say it out loud, "I wouldn't survive. I almost didn't, you know. When... when that happened."

Leo tenses in his arms. "We're not talking about that."

"I am." Donnie taps nervously on his shell. The Krang invasion, as taboo of a topic as it is in their household, almost killed every single one of them, that’s true. But Leo’s sacrifice – it almost destroyed their entire family. "You jumped into the… through the gateway, because you thought that would save us. But you closed the portal on yourself, knowing you were going to die.

"And you did, for me." He admits, the words warped through tears, the confession coming from the depths of his soul. "For five minutes and twenty-six seconds, you, Hamato Leonardo, left me a twinless twin."

One sharp squeeze, strong to make Leo gasp. "Y-you made me mourn you. And I almost didn't survive it, the same way you almost didn't survive that either.

"Do you get that?" He practically begs, way past the point of desperation. "There is no me, no Raph or Mikey or Dad, without you. There is no Hamato without you, Leon."

"You - you would've—"

"I wouldn't." Donnie cuts off his token protest, given to him despite the overwhelming evidence for the contrary. "I wouldn’t. You once said you're nothing without your brothers, right? Your brothers are nothing without you either."

It takes a few seconds, and Donnie holds out for just a bit more, trying to maintain his stance for a bit longer, anything to make Leo get it. This isn’t a problem that can be solved with one heartfelt conversation, he understands that. No matter how much he wishes, this still isn’t a broken gadget in the physical realm that he can fix; Donnie can’t connect the wires in the right places, make the electrical impulses travel through the right circuits, change the way Leo thinks about himself. He still can’t solve Leo.

But he can say how much he needs him, how much he loves him, over and over again. As many times as it requires him to.

And eventually, his twin caves, collapsing into him, pressing all his weight on him. Donnie rocks backwards with it, but manages to stay upright. Compensating for Leo, in more than one sense. Two halves of a whole. In perfect symmetry, in equal balance.

He rests a comforting hand over his head, offering nothing but the pressure, taking a page out of Splinter’s book of raising little crying turtles. That seems enough to make Leo gasp out another sob. And another. And a few more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying." Leo babbles, rubbing his face into Donnie's hoodie, trying to wipe the tears.

"You're exhausted of the burden that's been sitting over your skin for years." Donnie replies slowly. He checks his other palm, the one he'd cradled his face with, feeling the haunting liquid dripping between his fingers. But there’s nothing there, never was; it’s all just plain green skin.

He sighs, clenching his hand into a tight fist. Stupid mysticism.

He gently bonks Leo’s head with his. "You don't have to bear it any longer, Leon, not for our sakes, nor yours."

Leo lets out a tiny sound from the back of his throat, a small, vulnerable thing, that punches Donnie in the gut. "I'm sorry."

"For being exhausted?" He asks quietly. "That's not something to be sorry for.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Leo mumbles. “Just feels like I’m sorry for something, I don’t know what.”

Donnie lets out a breath between his teeth. Not for the first time, he wishes he could go into his twin’s mind and physically beat up all the emotions in there, steal some uranium and cook up a nuclear bomb to blow up every bad thought that crowds his mind. That could solve Leo, if such a thing were possible.

“You did steal my favorite Jolly Ranchers today.” He answers, somewhat deliriously, trying to get rid of the nonsensical image of throwing a cartoon dynamite stick into the dark, evil clouds in Leo��s brain. “Maybe you’re feeling sorry about that.”

That surprises a wet chuckle out of him. “Hey – that’s on you, okay? You keep hogging the watermelon ones.”

“I save the blue raspberry for you, isn’t blue supposed to be your ‘thing’?”

“Oh, like you’d have the grape ones just because they’re purple.”

“I wouldn’t have the grape ones if they were the last thing to eat on planet earth.”

Leo chokes out another laugh, and Donnie can feel the weak smile pressed into his shoulder. It makes him feel lighter, the roiling mess of feelings between them finally slowing down.

"You know," he says wonderingly after a few moments of quiet. "If— if Raph really is the ground. And Mikey is the sun, and I'm the air. Then... then I think you'd be a tree."

Leo sputters into another laugh. "What? A ‘tree’?"

"Yes, a tree." Donnie continues stubbornly, refusing to be embarrassed. "Just – hear me out. You'd be the tree, the thing that connects all of us together. Your roots grow into the ground, that's where you get your nutrients and water from; that's Raph. You draw energy from the rays of the sun to produce glucose; that's Mikey. And you engage in photosynthesis with the air, that's me, by using both the water and the light energy, converting carbon dioxide to oxygen. Breathing life into everyone around you. That's you, my dearest twin."

Leo trembles in his arms, a full-body tremor that seems to overpower any other emotion. It makes him hug him even tighter. "You think so?"

"I promise you."

“You’re not just saying that because I’m green, like chlorophyll?”

“No, dum-dum, we're all green.” He huffs, fondness undeniably seeping through. "And you should know better than to doubt my genius. I’m smarter than you, after all."

"Yeah." Leo whispers, easily conceding. "You are."

Donnie smiles, a real and genuine thing. Now, that's an honest truth if he's ever heard one.

Eventually, Leo extricates from the embrace, wiping his entire face with the sleeve of his hoodie. Donnie winces slightly, but when it’s pulled away, there’s still no sign of the mystic ichor.

Leo looks at him, and the only thing dripping from his face is pure tiredness, bloodshot eyes and a watery but authentic smile. A shattered facade.

“But I was right, though, huh?” He still says, in a teasing voice that Donnie rolls his eyes at. “The curse wasn’t that big a deal. Mira just really hated the Face-Man routine.”

“Or she was trying to expose me, as I truly am,” Donnie says, a dramatic sigh injected into the words that makes him grin wider. “A mad scientist that still scorns the inexplicable concept of magic.”

“We probably should’ve explained our Ninpo to her.”

“Oh sure, because the ‘power of family and friendship’ is somehow a better explanation than the tried-and-tested scientific method, he says extremely sarcastically.”

He laughs. “Hey, she let us off with a relatively harmless curse, so cut her some slack, alright? I mean, yeah, the whole 'getting-rid-of-fakeness' schtick was pretty harsh, full points to her on that one. But that was it, right?”

Donnie levels another, serious gaze at him that sobers him right up. “Not exactly.”

“¿Pérdon?”

"Draxum said the spell has a pretty bad side-effect, actually."

"He did?" Leo asks, alarmed. "Like what?"

Donnie grabs his hand and squeezes, hoping to look sympathetic. "Really, really bad constipation."

"...You're kidding."

"I'd stock up on the Miralax, Leo.” He says, appropriately contritely. “You know how bad it can get. Remember Mikey when he ate two party-sized Whole Foods cheese boards?"

"Oh, god," Leo blanches. "You're not kidding."

"Yeah, no I'm not. Sorry, I guess this is the one thing the power of family can't save you from."

Leo pauses, before grabbing a pillow and slamming it on Donnie's face, as he laughs delightedly.

---

Thank you for the amazing artwork! I had to write a little something for it<3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt disaster twins #disaster twins #disaster twins my beloved #fic

25 notes · View notes

aestheticaltcow · 2 days ago

Text

ThankGallagher

Lip Gallagher x Reader

Happy Thanksgiving to y'all that celebrate it.

I just really fuck with college-era Lip. I think this is also somewhat turning into a series...

Shameless Masterlist

“And that’s the answer.” Professor Youens said, putting his chalk down and sending an exacerbated look around the room. You chuckled and quickly scribbled down the information in your notebook. Class ended, and you put your notebook in your backpack. As you got up, you felt someone staring at you. You knew it was Lip. Since your impromptu Halloween-record-listening-awkward-conversation-high-sexual-tension hangout, you’d wanted to spend some more time with him. Your roommate warned you that Lip “got around” and told you to be careful with him, “Guys from the South side only want one thing, Y/N. Be careful.”

“Hey, Lip.” you greeted as you walked toward the front of the lecture hall.

“Listened to that playlist you sent me… it was interesting…” Lip joshed, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Well, thanks for listening to it. I have a question for you,” you cautiously asked as you pushed your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. Your lips shot you a curious look, and you swallowed. “Wanna hang out again?”

“We gonna listen to Chappel Roan again?”

“If you wanna…”

Lip shrugged as he leaned against the wall, “Might wanna hear somethin’ else.”

“Like what?” you humored him, not sure if it was a sexual innuendo or not.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

After classes that day, you went back to your dorm and got ready to hang out with Lip at his dorm. An upside of Lip being an RA for his floor was that he had a private room. Your roommate had made her dislike of him very apparent, so when she walked into your room to see you doing your makeup, she stopped to size you up. “You’re awfully dressed up for a Thursday night.”

You rolled your eyes and dug through your makeup bag, looking for lip gloss. “I’m not dressed up.”

“Yeah, you are. Where’s that tattered-up Metalica shirt?” she laughed as she dropped her backpack on her bed and went to her closet. “You got a date or somethin?”

You stopped what you were doing and bit your lip. You were caught, “I’m hangin’ out with Lip…”

“Girl.”

“Just because you’re from Chicago and ‘know his type’ doesn’t mean he’s that kind of person.” you retaliated, “According to your logic, he shouldn’t even be in college, but here he is. Maybe he’s different, and I think you’re being overly judgemental.”

She scoffed, “Just remember to use a condom.” she was quick to walk out of the dorm, making sure to slam the door. You sighed and finished your makeup before slipping on a pair of shoes.

You knocked on Lip’s door before pushing your hands into the pocket on the front of your hoodie. The door opened, and a woman in a plain black hoodie with a baseball hat and sunglasses slipped out and quickly headed down the hall, pretending not to see you. Taken aback, you watched as she opened the door to the stairway; who was that? Your attention was returned to Lip’s door when you felt his presence looming over you. His hair was messy, and his cheeks were flushed. You noticed a sheen of sweat over his face and exposed shoulders and collarbone. His white tank top did little to hide the dark red, still developing purple hickey at the base of his neck. “Hey.” Lip greeted awkwardly.

“Forgot I was comin’ over?” you said as your gaze dropped to the floor. Lip cleared his throat and stepped aside, opening the door wider for you to enter. You sighed and scurried in against your better judgment. You noticed the unmade bed and a pair of lace panties half under his bed. “You know, I should leave… I’m going home for Thanksgiving.”

“You can stay for a bit.” Lip countered as he closed the door. You sighed and turned to look at him, “This looks bad-”

“Lip. I can’t do this right now.” you brought your hands to your face, hoping the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes wouldn’t. Your roommate was right, after all. As you tried to walk past him, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest.

“Hey. We don’t gotta do anything. Let’s hang out.” Lip mumbled, making you roll your eyes.

“No Lip. I’ll just see you in Youens.” you pushed against his chest, and his arm dropped. You opened the door and quickly walked out of his dorm, embarrassment, and stupidity washing over you as you ran out of the building.

#lip gallagher fan fiction #lip gallagher fan fic #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x y/n #shameless imagine #shameless one shot #shameless fan fiction #shamless #shameless fan fic #shameless x you #shameless x reader #lip gallagher

19 notes · View notes

tj-crochets · 8 months ago

Text

An update on my art wall!

I made all of this except the mini quilt, which was made by @anotherdayforchaosfay (aka @creations-by-chaosfay, I’m never sure whether to tag the main one or the sewing one, but either way, if you want a quilt, mini or otherwise, I think her commissions are opening again next week sometime?)

#the person behind the yarn #other people’s art #in that I did not make the quilt but I guess I should also tag it #my art #I did put the drawing of the flame up too I just put it on my cork board #which I cannot show on tumblr because it also has pictures of my family on it #but it’s there! and the purple one will also go up on the wall #if for no other reason than idk how to make the pastel stop being smearable

38 notes · View notes

icewindandboringhorror · 2 months ago

Text

just a few little bits from the past few days

#both the word count screenshots are from the same day - just different sections of the text. so that was like 4000 words in #one DAY.. huzzah!! (< making up for the fact that I did 0 words the 3 days before that lol.. so its not actually an accomplishment ghjjh)#In renpy I think you can have multiple separate texty cody whatever documents and still jump between them so long as they;re #labeled properly. Rather than like... having one extremely long 60.000 line file where in some places youre in a menu within a menu #within a menu within a menu within a menu within a menu within a menu jhbhj #But that was the way I started doing it lke 5 years ago when I actually made the base of everything so I feel like it'd be too much #work to change it all that dramatically now. But that means I cant just get the word count for the whole document I just have #to jump around to the few sections I worked on and highlight them to get the word count for only that portion #.. the one tiny fraction of the whole monster text wall. Though it is of course spaced out and organized into #clearly labeled sections within that because otherwise I have trouble discerning text on a screen. still.#Resuming a project that's been basically abandoned for 4-5 ish years is just always finding weird stuff like.. why did I do this that way..#why did I write that... why did I organize that in this manner... what the hell am I referencing in this note... etc. lol #Anyway... also......................cat with plum on his head.#everyone point and laugh at mr. plum head boy..!!!!!!!!!!!!! >:3c #I've been obsessed with Calico Critters' social media presence from afar (like how I mentioned one of my possible dream jobs would #be to be the person that sets the scenes and arranges all the toy animals at a tiny little table and etc. to take the type of pictures they #post on their facebook page and stuff) and I see all their photos of them posing the rabbits as if they're in a swimming pool #or on a nature hike or etc. etc. BUT I have never really seen them in person. Recently I was at a store (in a KN95 mask and not staying #very long still of course. wastewater covid levels are still high where I live (and most of the US truly)) and it just crossed my mind #to actually go to the toy section and see if I could find any....wow.... Its like meeting a celebrity.. the Latte Cats....#Of course I didnt buy them because they're like... very expensive?? like $25 - $40 just for one little pack of a few critters like #what is shown. but.... I still got to see them................ my beloved.. I want their outfits... T o T #Oh and then lastly just a pot of purple clover looking things. I just think theyre neat lol #photo diary

11 notes · View notes

safyresky · 2 months ago

Text

Scrimbly Jacqueline 40/50: Mel and Jacqueline commit a felony; are caught and apprehended by the mutually agreed upon "hottest magibean alive"

🫧🌊💙❄️☃️

"Closed as well?" "So it would seem." "Damn! What is UP with that?! Why is every apothecary specializing in poisonous ingredients CLOSED?!?! Don't they know we have a guy to kill and also maybe even a whole ass cult, too?" "Apparently they didn't get the memo." "Oh! What about that one you and Lucy frequent?" "Beg pardon?" "You know! The apothecary with that lady you like—" "NO! Absolutely NOT. We will not be going there. God. Every time I go in there I leave absolutely mortified, and that's assuming I don't faint again." Jacqueline snorted, a hand quickly coming up and covering her mouth as Mel whipped around and glared, thunder rumbling in the distance. "Sorry, sorry! I just...AGAIN?!" "Well at least I am AWARE enough of my crush to faint about it." Jacqueline's shoulders fell as she hissed through clenched teeth. "Ouch. You cut deep, Mel. You cut real deep. It's cool though! I get it. Getting you to Lizzy to use your charm and good looks to score us some men-who-write-their-sevens-weird-ending poisons and then some is not plan A or B." "Or C or D and perhaps not even Z. Really? That was your plan?!" Jacqueline shrugged. "It was like, last ditch plan. I mean, the alternative is to wait but the longer we wait, the longer weird sevens guy is hitting up Luce and that simply won't do." "Absolutely not at all. God. Have you seen them? How he writes his sevens?" "YES! Jack showed me. It's so freaking WEIRD!" "Right? We simply cannot let this go on, I'm afraid. Hmm." Mel tapped her chin. "What to do, what to do..." "Okay. I've got one more idea," Jacqueline said, watching as Mel paced back and forth in a small circle, her skirt dripping a bit. Her brow was furrowed; she tapped her chin as she paced. "But I think you will like it even less." Mel stopped pacing. "Oh?" "Let's go see Chimera." Mel blanched. "Oh dear god. You want to go do what?!" "See Chimera! I mean, look, Mel. She's the poisons guy, right? You wanna get rid of someone, she's your go to." "You want me to go to someone objectively hotter than any other aforementioned apothecary to get the things we need to take care of this creep?" "She is pretty damn hot. I'd say like, top hottest magibeans for sure." "And what, you want to go and just knock on her door? Stop in for tea, a chat, and leave with a goodie bag of potions and poisons?" "Yes?" "No. Nope! Not at all. There is no way I'd survive that." "Well. You got me there. She is pretty terrifying. May actually kill us. Hmm. Okay, okay. Hear me out." "Oh, absolutely! Agreed." "Not what I meant but yeah, you're so right." "See? I'm already flubbing it up!" "Flubbing?" "Jacqueline!" "Sorry! Sorry. That's just a really fun word! I'm gonna steal that one. Flubbing. RIGHT! OKAY! Focusing." She took a deep breath in and squished her cheeks, taking a moment to compose herself. "Hear me out, Mel. What if we just...break and enter?" Mel looked visibly relieved. "Yes, yes. That I can do. I'll go fetch my harpoon and—" "Oh, no need! I think we can handle it sans harpoons." Winking, Jacqueline raised a glowing hand, wiggling her fingers. A conniving little smile spread across Mel's face as she lifted her own glowing hand in agreement, the pair of magibeans cackling into the night as they poofed, disappearing on the spot.

🌸🧪❤️

Moments later, the pair of them stepped right over the walls with a snowy and watery assist. They landed on what looked to be plant free ground, the water pooling back into Mel's skirt as Jacqueline waved the snow onto hers, freezing it in place with a very brief clenched fist. Grinning, the pair high fived one another, sticking close as they wandered down the path. The deadly plants were gorgeous. Some of them stretched high above the pair, towering over the leafy poisonous plants. Poison ivy and oak twirled together, stinging nettle abound. The paths and gardens stretched on, beautiful deadly flowers dotting the greenery with blues and yellows and reds, some plants growing fruits and berry looking things that were, quite obviously, very poisonous. "Whoa." "Watch the nettle, Jacqueline." Jacqueline stepped back, keeping even closer to Mel. "Right, right. That's one of the little stingy bitches." "Quite stingy, actually. Now, let's see. Where did I put that list..." Mel patted herself up and down, reaching into her watery sleeves and letting out a little "A-ha!" as she pulled a slightly damp rolled up list out of the left one, unfurling it quickly with a deft flick of her wrist. "Right. Here's what we need to—" Mel looked up, finding herself face first in icicles and crunchy hair. "Jacqueline! A little warning next time you come to a dead stop—" "Uh..." Poking around Jacqueline's shoulder, Mel blanched. In front of them stood Chimera herself. She looked down at them (Blimey, she's tall, Mel thought), arms crossed, her face unamused. An ear twitched. Behind her, her snake tail poked around her, looking at the two of them in what may have been a perplexed way, or an annoyed way. "Dear lord. She's even hotter in person." "Mel!" "...I said that out loud, didn't I?" "You sure did." Jacqueline cleared her throat. "Hi! Chimera! Uh...fancy seeing you here?" She winced, scratching the back of her head. "Right. Well. I mean, it is your garden so..." She raised an eyebrow, hands moving to her hips. "Well, since Mel's being honest," (Mel herself colouring behind her snowy friend), "I may as well too." And, taking a very long, very deep breath in, Jacqueline launched full speed into the most rambling explanation possible. "So basically Mel and I need to kill a guy. He's been bothering Luce and he writes his sevens weird and she told us to not kill him but he writes his sevens weird, not to mention he's like, a HUGE creep. HUGE! Lucy was all "don't kill him he's just being nice" but Mel and I disagree. So we went hey, what about secret murder! Not as obvious murder? Lucy doesn't need to know, and BOOM! POISON! So off we fucked, but all the local places that have the poisonous shit we need were closed, so I suggested we come see you, but both Mel and I are super intimidated because you're like, one of the hottest magibeans we know of, so we thought it'd be easier to break in? To your garden? Of poisons?" "Is that so?" Mel and Jacqueline (the former still hiding behind the latter) shared a look between each other. A mutual shrug. Jacqueline turned back to Chimera. "Yeah, that about sums it up. He's really very creepy." "A grade-A creep," Mel added. "Who writes his sevens weird." "And basically STALKED the woman!" "So now we need to kill him." Chimera tilted her head. She let the two woman sweat for a bit before grinning. "You had me at kill a guy."

🫧🌊💙❄️☃️

So @lmelodie gave me this idea a HOT MINUTE ago and it ah, it has spiralled. It's one of three, y'all. This one was from LAST WEEK but between a visit home and the World's Slowest Cold, I wasn't able to post it proper until TODAY lmao.

I have also stolen @kscribbs's little guy ONCE AGAIN and she'll be hanging around for this lil trio of scrimbles once more, lol.

AND AS A BIG HUGE DISCLAIMER RE: THE LITTLE SMILEY SNIPPET: I HAVE 100% FUDGED WITH EVENTS OF MILLER'S LAW TO MAKE THIS SCENARIO WORK, AND I AM SURE BOTH MEL AND MERA MAY BE SLIGHTLY OOC, SO MY APOLOGIES FOR THAT. I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS, THOUGH, AND I HOPE YOU ALL DO/DID TOO. I AM HAVING A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS, TBH!

I just never considered the potential of these three? Hanging out? And then I did and. Well. Here we are!

Chimera was so fun to draw! I was staring at the sketch in awe after I finished it like "woah. I did pretty ok!"

I think she actually has stripes now? But I was using lmel's GORGEOUS art of the woman and neglected to cross check the recent Chimera post until AFTER the ink had dried so. SPOTS FOR NOW I SUPPOSE!

Anyway, enjoy! Stay healthy. Wash your hands, etc etc. It's like a bonafide swamp of sicknesses out there right now and I do NOT wish the World's Slowest Cold on ANYONE. It sucks. I thought I was better Monday, went to work Tuesday, came home and absolutely DIED. Been home since. Fingers crossed tomorrow is a healthy day! We're coming up on Turkey Day Weekend in Canada and I'd like to go see my family and drown myself in mashed potatoes without fucked up tastebuds 😎😎😎

#dani doodles #dani writes #smile shots #scrimbly jacquelines #listen okay listen. i. know not what mera's garden looks like #or how one would break in #so we're all just gonna suspend our disbelief and enjoy them hopping a wall and immediately crashing into mera ok #it's time to suspend our disbelief (clenches fist) FOR THE ART!#ocs #miller's law #chance and choice #cs au #cs au ff #the idea lmels gave me has spiralled a bit lol. this is gonna be a very fun #scrimbly triptych #hehehehehe #cs posting #crystal springs #i made mel's shirt purple today. just bc. i was feelin it.#fucked up her lil necklace a bit BUT THAT'S OK #it happens lmao #in k's recent doodle of her she had these GORGEOUS watery sleeves so I tried to do that too!#i am still not sure if i prefer the dark blue on light or vice versa for the aqua #i need more colours lmao #good news there is i got spoiled by friends for my bday so NOW i can GET more colours >:)#at some point lmao #OKOKOOK FRFRFR ENJOY! I AM GOING TO GO WATCH TLOVM AND THEN PASS OUT AND THEN RESUSCITATE FOR CRITICAL ROLE #and part 2 of this trio lmao #which may also have a lil ooc au-ish smiley shot :p #Mel and Jacqueline's Chimera-ful Adventure

6 notes · View notes