#cause end of school year art block | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eunxhan · 8 months ago

Text

❝ A burden weighed heavy upon both their hearts, forging a bond neither could escape. ❞

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ 💧 Requested ⨾ Hi Hi ♡♡! I would like to request a Ticci Toby fanfic, with a male reader who would be a friend of Toby's before he started homeschooling, and they ended up meeting again years later, when Toby was already a proxy. Like, Toby and the reader had been friends for a long time, but when the whole incident occurred the reader didn't hear from Toby anymore and thought he was dead, until they meet again!

I wish it was something platonic, I'm dying for just platonic comfort with this man. ૮꒰ྀི ᴗ͈ ˕ ᴗ͈ ꒱ྀིა I would also like to say that I love your writing and the whole aesthetic of your profile, it is so good to look at, and your writing is so good and consistent, I hope you are having a great night/day!! (feel free not to write if you don't like it!!) ♡꒰ ´ ` ഒ

Ꮺ Eun Replied ⨾ Hello, I adore your idea! I barely write for platonic and I'm so happy that I finally have a reason to write one— Although I made this fluff with angst at the end and I hope this is to your liking. Thank you also, I tried making my page organized and easy to find my works ^^ I may.. Or may not go overload with the back story yet I'm still not happy with what I came up with.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ Disclaimer — FLUFF, ANGST. UNHEALTHY FRIENDSHIP.

Reader & Genre ⨾ MALE!RDR. HE/HIM/HIS. PLATONIC.

Words used ⨾ 2,318 words 12,781 characters

Character ⨾ TOBIAS ERIN ROGERS. (TICCI TOBY)

Art Credits ⨾ @/6raveyardbat

Ꮺ Links ⨾ My Navigation and Mandates

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

6-7 YEARS OLD —

Toby's life had always been filled with challenges, especially when it came to his health. He had always been prone to uncontrollable tics and twitches, which made it difficult for him to fit in with other children. He was often teased and ridiculed for his condition, and it made him feel like a social outcast. It wasn't until [M/N] came into his life that he finally found someone who he could connect with. [M/N] was kind, generous, and compassionate, in his eyes.

When the two boys first met, Toby was like a kitten abandoned under the rain and misunderstood in class. He had a condition that caused him to uncontrollably tic and twitch, and the other children at school bullied him endlessly. But something in [M/N] felt like he wants to take care of him, he saw the good in Toby and became 'friends' with him, even when it meant being bullied by others themselves. Although, it was hard to approach Toby. He looks at him as if he was prey, as if he wanted to do something to him but eventually he manage to get in Toby's side.

Toby was not nice or empathetic at all, he doesn't really understand why [M/N] get hurt when he said something so offensive and insulting. He doesn't understand why [M/N] cries when he slaps him. He was being treated like this, Why can't [M/N] handle it like he does?

11-12 YEARS OLD —

Toby was aware of how other kids treated [M/N], he was vulnerable and yet something in him snapped when a kid touched [M/N]. A kid that isn't him. Leading him to doing something awful. Yet [M/N] makes up excuses to find a reason why Toby had done that, as if he doesn't want to see the real Toby.

For as long as they could remember, [M/N] and Toby had shared a close bond. They had been each other's constant companions since the days of elementary school, and despite Toby's medical condition, [M/N] had never let that stop him from being a true friend. Although their homes were separated by only a few blocks, before and after school, he was right Infront of Toby's window. [M/N] would often make the trek to be with Toby. They would often spend their weekends or even some weekdays after school together, enjoying one another's company. Sometimes, they would talk for hours on end, always finding a way to have their conversation even when they were physically apart. [M/N] would find a spot where he could view Toby's window, and they would talk with each other just by using a pen and paper. Despite their limited means of communication, they never cared how long they spoke, for they knew that their bond was unbreakable.

This friendship has now become a testament of true friendship, not only to Toby and [M/N] themselves, but to everyone who has witnessed their journey. Though everything isn't always happy, this leads him to feeding his delusions, like he was making up scenarios about the both of them. Toby thinking if they keep being like this, nothing will come to them.

[M/N] had always been aware of the hardships that Toby faced in his home life. He knew that his father was an alcoholic and often took his frustrations out on the rest of the family. Toby would rarely talk about what went on in his home, but [M/N] knew that it couldn't have been easy for him. When Toby was caught talking to him, [M/N] was enraged at the unfairness. The fact that Toby was punished by his father and prevented from going to school for a week because of something so simple and innocent was unacceptable. It only served to further solidify [M/N] determination to stand by Toby and support him through thick and thin, no matter how difficult it might be.

[M/N] had always been a gentle presence in Toby's life, always reminding him to take care of himself. He would often check up on Toby to make sure he was eating enough, and would gently remind him to avoid bad habits like chewing his inside cheeks or not taking care of himself. His acts of kindness and compassion were never ceasing, and they often helped keep Toby on the right track.

Toby's mother is grateful to have [M/N] in her son's life yet also afraid about what would happen to him. She know her son well enough, the episodes, the outbursts, she knew. A pure boy like [M/N], Toby will just suck that out of him. For His Sister Lyra? She was overjoyed, she sees you almost everyday outside just to talk to Toby and she covers you up whenever their dad spot you. She talks to you sometimes outside, she was so happy to see you everytime.

However, when [M/N] 's guardian finally found out about him getting bullied for protecting Toby, things took a turn for the worst. It wasn't the first time they heard him getting bullied, none of the teachers were doing anything. His guardian made it clear that they did not approve of their friendship and told [M/N] to avoid Toby at all costs to the point they're moving out. [M/N] , heartbroken and throwing a fit, could not help but feel devastated at the thought of losing his only friend and constant companion.

The news that Toby was being placed in homeschooling only served to amplify his sadness, forcing him to come to terms with the possibility of not seeing his dear friend ever again, it was the final nail in the coffin - [M/N] was devastated knowing he was losing the one person who had always been there for him.

Toby's reaction to his mother's decision to put him in homeschooling is both one of anger and confusion. On one hand, he may view homeschooling as a relief from the bullying he was facing at school, but he was frustrated that he was being separated from his closest friend, [M/N]. Why would she let him get away from [M/N].. He was doing so fine with him? What Toby doesn't see, [M/N] was also suffering from the bullying he was receiving just by Toby's condition getting worse would likely result in him feeling less capable of handling everyday life, which may impact his overall mood and emotions. As such, his reaction could be interpreted as feeling overwhelmed or even hopeless, as he may feel alone and without proper support in such a challenging time..

But as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, [M/N] started to lose hope. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened to Toby, but he didn't know what. And the thought that he might never see his best friend again was too painful to bear.

17 YEARS OLD —

[M/N] was consumed by guilt and regret; it had been weeks even months since he last spoke to Toby, and he couldn't help but wonder if the worst had happened. No matter how hard he tries to communicate, he had nothing. He even thinks Toby was dead. The thought of losing his best friend, the person who had always been there for him through thick and thin, was unbearable, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow at fault.

Right when [M/N] hears the news about the car accident, he felt his heart drop down to his stomach. A combination of shock, worry, and grief. His immediate concern will be for the safety and well-being of Toby and his sister, and he want to know more details about the accident as soon as possible but [M/N] 's guardian never let him be close to the Rogers'.

It was like everything happened in just a second. This tragic series of events would understandably leaving the poor guy feeling a wide range of emotions - shock, distress, and a deep sense of loss. The death of Toby's father.. And two weeks later, there was few missing or injured teens and one of the suspects was Toby? He was being consumed by worry for Toby's safety and well-being, and the thought of him being controlled by something unknown would further enhance his sense of helplessness and fear.

But something in him had hope, Toby was still alive.

18-19 YEARS OLD —

He decided to take action. He dug through every news article and police report he could find, searching for any sign of Toby's whereabouts. He scoured the streets, asking anyone and everyone if they had seen him, but there was no trace.

With nothing to go on, [M/N] decided to take the search into his own hands, even if it meant putting himself at risk. He scoured the woods and forests, calling out for Toby's name, hoping against hope that he would hear a reply.

And that was it, He saw Toby.. [M/N] was devastated to see what Toby had become. The boy who he had once known as his best friend was now a monster with a thirst for murder, a proxy for some unknown force. But [M/N] refused to give up on Toby - he knew that somewhere deep down, there was still a glimmer of the friend he had once known.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

The brisk air bites at his face as leaves crunch underneath. Hearing random noises that animals makes, cold wind hits his face. Snaps. he heard, making him turn to the direction where he heard the branch snaps. He sees a man around 5'6, with an old hatchet. [M/N] stumbled upon Toby in the dense forest, a wave of confusion washed over him. His pale face is covered by goggles and a mouthguard, a bit of brunette hair visible that made [M/N] question if that was Toby or not. He had known Toby from a previous life, a time when they were friends, sharing laughter and memories that seemed like a distant memory. Now, however, Toby was a changed man, his once-cheerful demeanor replaced by a cold, calculating gaze.

Toby's eyes widened at the sight of the [M/N], he tried to conceal his emotions. He didn't want the [M/N] to see him in this state, as a proxy and a killer. He truly didn't want to see the man now, after all he have done to run away and escape. Bitterness bubbled in his chest as he remembered the [M/N] departure, the weight of betrayal still heavy on his heart.

"Toby," the [M/N] was cut off by Toby. "W-Why are you here?!" He yelled, making the other flinch. "I was looking for you! You disappeared, and after seeing the news.. I-.. I—" Toby's eyes blazed with anger, his voice rasping as he replied, "Mmm-me?! You left me in the dust, [N/N]. You chose to walk away, and now I'm stuck in this hellhole, killl—ling for my survival."

[M/N] and Toby stared at each other, the weight of their history hung heavy in the air. [M/N] 's heart ached at the sight of his former friend, his thoughts racing as he tried to piece together the events that led to this moment. He can't even walk closer, Toby isn't the same anymore. Not with a hatchet on his hand.

"Your face..." The boy whispered, his eyes widening as he took in Toby's gruesome visage. Blood caked his features, and his eyes held a haunted look that seemed to go beyond the physical damage.

Toby voice shook with anger and desperation, "Sta—y back! You don't want to see this!"

[M/N] hesitated, his gut churning as he considered the offer to help. The police were the last thing Toby needed, and he knew that his own involvement could have severe repercussions. "I... I won't tell anyone," he promised, taking a step forward. "We can leave this place and find a way to fix it. Whatever happened, we can get through it together."

But Toby response was immediate, his hatchet raised in warning. The brunette faltered, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the fear in Ticci's eyes, a fear that was palpable and all-consuming. "You don't understand," Toby whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion.

Toby was angry, confused, frustrated. He wants [M/N] out of here, he was angry because of him going to such a dangerous place like here. He would never ever want to see the boy be trapped like he was. "Please, Toby," [M/N] pleaded, his voice trembling with compassion. "I'm here to help you. We can run, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Just put the hatchet down, and we can figure this out together. We can go back."

"Do nnnot bring the past!" Toby's eyes searched the young man's face, his own filled with doubt and uncertainty. He could see the sincerity in the other boy's gaze, a shimmer of hope that pierced through the darkness clouding his mind. "I don't need—need to go, All I want is you to get out of here!" he snapped again, his voice cracking. He hated this feeling, it was a long time that he felt something like this again.

"I can't leave you here, Tobias ," [M/N] insisted, his voice filled with determination. "I owe you that much."

Toby's eyes hardened, hearing that name made his blood boil. his voice sharp as he retorted, "Don't you see? This is why you must leave! I can't let you get hurt because of me!— if the others se—es you— they'll —"

"Others?" [M/N] spoke, his heart aching at Toby's words. Who's them? There's more? Toby is with them? He wanted to help, to make things right for the man who had once been his friend. But he also understood the pain that drove Toby, the fear that had taken root in his heart.

"Who's them..? ," he said softly, stepping back.

To be continued...

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

#Eun.writes #Eun.asks #Eun.💧#tobias erin rogers #tobias rogers #ticci toby x male reader #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby #male reader #creepypasta toby #creepypasta #ticci toby headcanons

81 notes · View notes

xxspirit · 1 year ago

Text

Hi guys!! Sorry I haven’t been active for a while, just wanted to check in since it’s been like half of a month lool

I was taking a break from tumblr and drawing in general to focus a bit more on school, but now I think I’m stuck in art block which is poo cause I wanna draw now rgrgrggr 😡😡😡

But I figured I could share with you my upcoming projects that I’ll be working on sooner or later:

✦first I have some asks, about 4-6 of them I can’t can’t remember how many :V I’ve been trying to work mainly on 3 of them, but haven’t really gotten anywhere :c

✦Second I have a silly comic idea I want to draw soon. featuring the baby boy- well it’s mainly about Dream and swap but baby boy will be there too- I’m waiting to start after I respond to at least 1 or 2 asks

✦I want to do something for Christmas, prolly nothing big but something simple and sweet, which I’m aiming to post it on Christmas or the day before(I’m thinking of drawing sum ship kids for this one :>)

✦I have super cute Dreamberry drawing idea, I’m hoping to make it animated(gif)!! Have no clue when I’ll make this but I really am excited about the idea and I hope I stick with it

✦finally, I was also thinking I could do art dump for end of the year- kinda like a new year special—idrk(not posted drawings, unfinished pieces & decent doodles)

And that’s all for now, I’m hoping to get this all posted before the end of the year, I do have a break coming too, which will be awesome so I can have more time to draw but ya-

Thanks for letting me blabber! Hope u have a good day or night!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

108 notes · View notes

sashabunnie · 3 months ago

Text

Hi! I apologize for not posting recently despite having a resurgence in wanting to draw. I've recently gotten a new art program and am still trying to figure out how to use it. In the meantime I'd like to discuss a topic I find important to talk about.

I recently received a question in my inbox. I found it rude and decided to delete and block the person. But now I'm realizing I could use this comment to educate those not in the art field on this subject, specifically about how proportions and different body types are taught to be drawn. I'll paraphrase the comment received:

"It's funny how you're fat but you draw yourself skinny, it's hilarious."

Yup that's the basis of what the comment was. I could tell from this comment that a) they're trying to be rude and mean and b) they at least don't draw humans and at most have no idea how to draw period.

Now you may be asking, how does this comment lead to an educational moment? I'm glad you asked.

I've been drawing since I can remember, and I only took a few art classes in middle school and highschool. Other than that I'm almost completely self taught and often took my inspiration from cartoons.

I also grew up in a much larger body than a good portion of my peers. I had binge e@ting disorder. This was caused by growing up in a poor family. I was taught to eat whatever I was offered(unless it was by a total stranger). I was also taught at school to inhale my food starting from kindergarten as we only got 15 minutes to eat and 15 minutes to play, if we went over the 15 minutes to eat we weren't allowed to play. Anyways this conditioned me to have BED.

Being overweight as a child was torture. Just like any ED it's very hard to control and even harder to spot in a child. I went untreated until I was 19. I'm a lot better now but sadly my stomach is now partially paralyzed.

Now like I said, growing up fat was extremely difficult, seeing others in my life who were skinnier than I, seeing all the cartoon shows on TV with the pretty skinny ladies and bulked up men, or even lanky men. And sure there were fat people in cartoons, but they're often portrayed as these lazy, stupid, people or they're middle aged with greying or thinning hair, in a mobility scooter, who are also portrayed as stupid and lazy.

I never saw a true representation of myself in cartoons. I never saw a plump nine year old with dreams to become a ballerina or baseball player, I never saw a bigger girl who exceeded in every class who wanted to become a paleontologist. All I saw were people making jokes about the fat character, how dumb and lazy they were.

But to me, I was never lazy or stupid. And when I started drawing myself I did so as a beautiful young person who was smart, clever, and always taken seriously. It was my escape from this world of hate.

Then I started taking art classes in middle school and highschool. They taught very basic anatomy in drawing, such as "this is how long your arm should be" and "the hand should be able to cover the face", just teaching proportions. But here's the catch, they hardly taught anything more than an hourglass shaped body for females and a rectangle shape for men.

In fact if we tried to explore more or less body shaped, whether it was a flat chested female, a dad bod male or vice versa, it was met with severe criticism.

Now over the years I've learned how to draw different body shapes and sizes better than I have in the past. And I have worked greatly to improve my self image and that a bit of extra fat here or there won't be the end all be all.

However that's not to say that I still have a hard time drawing myself as big as I see myself irl. The ED that warped from BED to OSFED in my teen years still yells at me from my mirror, telling me how ugly I am for being in a bigger body. People have told me several times that I'm not as big as the mirror says I am, which is true.

I may be in a bigger body but it's not to a point where my weight is affecting my health. The only real thing affecting my health are a slew of genetic disorders that I cannot control.

Just to conclude, just because someone draws themselves as bigger or smaller does not mean that they're delusional. It's just how they draw themselves.

Just be kind and non judgemental. You don't know what that person has been through and honestly it's not really your business unless it's a threat to safety, theirs or others.

And if you don't like what you see, scroll, it's not your place to get upset over something as small as someone drawing themselves in a different light than your perspective.

Love y'all!

(Picture of my gravity falls x the owl house OC for y'all)

#art #artists on tumblr #artwork #audhd artist #autistic artist #digital art #my art #disabled #eating disoder trigger warning #eating disoder recovery #be kind #don't judge a book by its cover #gravity falls #the owl house

21 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 10 months ago

Note

we want the juicy details on your sexual awakening

It's not that juicy. It's actually fairly sad, but someone else may be at this point and need to hear it.

Warning - questionable consent, technically a form of sex work, total power exchange, abusive relationships, mental health issues, learning to adapt, and becoming a survivor instead of a victim.

I was a really really good kid and teen. Like I addressed, I got my kicks from fanfiction. I dated once in high school, and it never went further than kissing (which caused my first break up and broken heart). My first "What is happening to my body," came from watching The Mummy, and it wasn't something I could discuss with anyone besides my older brother who did the best he could to try to talk to me about safe sex.

I moved away from my parents in 2014 and went to a college about 4 hours away. Aka- close enough to mom and dad to drive home once every couple months, not close enough for them to randomly show up. I was an art major focusing on art history and visual design, and that required me to take a life drawing class.

Tender 18 year old Liz, a starving college student working two jobs, ended up catching the eye of one of the male models, and we started talking a lot. I found out after a month of him taking me on dates, surprising me with gifts, and him staying up with me when I'd be lonely because I didn't live on campus have friends, that he was married and him and his wife were looking for a girlfriend for him since she had a boyfriend on the side. I don't regret this choice because it shaped who I am today, but I stupidly agreed to go into it without having set my own boundaries and limits.

He had rules for me. Rules I can recite clearly to this day: he dresses me, I do not make financial choices without him, I am to tell him where I was at all times and leave my tracker on, he decides what I eat and when, no drinking, no smoking, and no other partners. If I listened, he would pay my tuition, books, help with rent, etc. At the time, I did not realize that I was entering a total power exchange dynamic, and he knew that.

Those starter rules evolved into more... sex based rules, and after 3 months, I ended up losing my virginity to him after he told me refusing was breaking his rules, and if I broke his rules, my allowance was cut off, and I really needed help with rent, friends. I am not proud of that decision, but that decision was made.

I stayed in this relationship with him hanging financial security and my own naivety over my head for close to 10 months. My dad is a law enforcement officer, and he is the one who noticed the change in my personality and looks.

I had waist length dark brown hair. I came home blonde with my hair cut to my lower neck. I stopped wearing Converse and Vans and started wearing heels and sandles more. I would get really anxious and upset if I wasn't near my phone or could not find it to meet my required check-ins. I cried. Alot. Yelling made me actually panic. My dad made me sit down with a female investigator and answer questions about everything.

When she was done and confirmed to him what was happening, he then proceeded to get my brothers, a uHaul, and my apartment keys and move me back home. He had my phone bill at that point, so he blocked the couple, her boyfriend, and their friends that I had the displeasure of meeting and ensured I never heard from them again.

Cohearsed consent is not consent. The second I started therapy and realized that, I spiraled. The weight of everything set in, and I realized I had been a victim of sexual assault. I began to cope by being hypersexual. Within a year, I'd had sex with close to 30 people trying to reclaim my body and, in turn, endangering myself until I met my ex fiancé.

When I met him, things changed significantly. He was a stepping stone in my healing and helped me find religion and value in myself beyond my body. Ironically, my healing and finding the wrong religion (catholics don't seem to be a fan of spirituality) is what led to our engagement being called off. I was 21 when we stopped seeing each other.

I slowed down at that point signicantly and cut off all sex. I was done with it and decided never again. I could please me better than anyone else could anyways. Then, I met baby daddy, and we started as strictly friends with benefits. He is the safest dom I've ever had, the kindest man I've ever met, and from the bat, he understood me more than I understood me. He saw me for me and cared for me despite the damaged goods.

He triggered the true awakening. We took sex between us slow, exploring things gently, talking about what I wanted to try and keeping track of what I liked, what he liked, and meeting in a happy middle. He indulged my want to explore with other women and just sat and watched. Then, when we felt I was ready, he introduced me to the swinging/bdsm lifestyle, and it helped me process the remaining bits of trauma I had with him beside me every step of the way. He helped shape me sexually into who I needed to be to heal and then who I deserved to be sexually for me.

I don't know at what point FwB turned into us living together and telling each other how much the other means to us almost daily, but now we're here, cuddling on couch, exhausted from taking care of our daughter, and discussing which one of us gets the last chocolate peanut butter overnight oats packet and *whispers* marriage.

Him and Sophia are the happy ending 18 year old Liz thought she was losing when she was desperate to pay rent. He helped me heal, learn who I was in terms of sex, and gave me the safest place to land.

One might say I'm pretty attached to him forever now 🤣

Ps - let me tell ya, missionary isn't boring when it's with someone who thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, pregnancy stretch marks, and all. 💕

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons

36 notes · View notes

tumblebagel · 21 days ago

Text

OH MY GOD

I just realized this rant I've been sitting on for the past five years would go PERFECTLY on Tumblr. Any autistic persona fans out there, this post is for you. If you are a typical persona fan, or just regular autistic, you will also likely appreciate this.

For the past 5 years, I've been using my own theory to process and visualize how my brain works. I call it: The Press Spoon System.

For those who don't know, there's a common concept called "spoon theory" most often used by people with chronic illnesses, and neurodivergent people. It says that you have a certain number of "spoonfuls" of energy every day to use, and that you have to be careful expending your spoons, because you might not have enough for something important later. It's a nice visualizer too, imagining a stack of spoons in a drawer. You can't quite tell how many spoons are left, cause they're all stacked on top of eachother, but you can make an estimate.

Now comes the persona influence, or more accurately, the SMT influence. The Shin Megami Tensei battle system is called the "press turn system." the way it works is that you start your turn with a number of actions that you can use for skills. But, if you use the specific mechanics based in your skills, you can instead only spend half an action. With enough planning and luck, you can double the amount of actions you have in a given turn. Those mechanics specifically are Weaknesses (using the correct damage type on an enemy. e.g., using fire spells on an ice enemy), Critical Hits (a random chance that's usually only on physical skills), or Technical Attacks (specific combos of damage types and status effects. e.g., using a spell that does psychic damage on an enemy that's enraged). Also, if you use the mechanics poorly (whiffing an attack, or using Resisted/Blocked/Reflected damage types), then it instead spends 2 actions.

You've likely already caught on, but it's my blog, so lemme spell it out.

In the Press Spoon System, you wake up with a certain number of spoons for the day, and a certain number of tasks to work on. You can spend a spoon, to progress a task slightly (like doing damage to an enemy). Your damage types are different IRL skills you're good at: studying, digital art, writing, social skills, cleaning. Hitting a school assignment with a studying skill is a lot more effective than making progress by cleaning the nearby area. That's your equivalent of landing a Weakness, thus spending only half a spoon (for the sake of visualization, 1/2 spoon = 1 spork). You can spend spoons setting up debuffs on the tasks to make them easier to hit with other damage types in the future, like technical attacks. Or, sometimes, you get lucky and a task was way easier than you thought, like landing a Crit.

But also sometimes you try to work on something and completely whiff, which is draining and takes 2 spoons. Or you think that using a digital art skill will help you clean your room by making a pretty chart to work with, but it backfires because drawing process made your space dirtier, like a reflected attack which also costs 2 spoons. This also brings up the idea of health. While spoons represent how much stuff you can do before you turn into an ineffective husk for the rest of the day, health is a representative of mental stress. Drop to 0, and you deal with your breaking point, likely a panic attack. There are healing skills, but sometimes is better to just finish off a task so it doesn't hurt you any more in the future, even if it leaves you near-death at the end of process.

You could spend a spoon to call in an ally for a couple turns, but the ally can't do everything for you, and there's the chance that they could get hurt if you do call them in. Maybe that spoon is best spent defeat the school assignment that's been charging its attack for the past 14 days in the background. Maybe you want to stop a task from calling in reinforcements, or buffing the damage of another task, or delivering debuffs back to you:

Like a rage kind of status, which makes me use sassy/frustrated/passive-agressive attacks when a social skills based move would have been far more effective

Depression kind of status, which makes everything cost full spoons, no sporks

Scatterbrained, which targets a random enemy on the field whenever you use a skill

Or executive dysfunction, which cuts you down to one spoon at the start of the day

This has been a revolutionizing way of visualizing my mental health and has done SO much good for me over the past couple years. Unironically saved me so much trouble.

#persona series #persona 5 #smt #shin megami tensei #megaten #autism #neurodivergent #spoon theory #low spoons

11 notes · View notes

revasserium · 2 years ago

Note

118 with daichi? ::

reqs are open :)

118. the power of goodbye

daichi; 2,349 words; teeth-rotting fluff u__u 4 times you say goodbye, and 1 time you say hello instead "what was it like to lose him? asked sorrow. there was a long pause before i responded: it was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me -- said all at once" -- lang leav, love and misadventure

01. “bye! see you next week!”

you’re waving at him, standing on your tiptoes, your other hand caught in your mother’s palm as daichi waves back just as furiously. you are both seven years old and somehow, both your mothers had thought to sign you up for after school art lessons.

“see you!” daichi sighs as he turns back to peer up at his mom, frowning slightly, “mom… i don’t think i’m very good at drawing…”

“ah? but dai-chan, i thought you liked coming to art classes? you’re always so excited!”

daichi furrows his brows as he and his mom start on their slow trek home, up two blocks, turning right onto the main street where daichi knows he’ll pass by the convenience store he likes with the iced milk pops.

“i… i like coming here cause i like my friends! but…” he kicks at the ground, a half-crumpled picture clutched in his other hand. his mother laughs lightly, taking the picture and smoothing it out with her hands.

“mah… as long as you’re having a good time, i think that’s all that matters.”

daichi pouts, pressing his lips, because yes… he supposes having fun is… well, fun, but being good at something is fun too!

he thinks about how your eyes glitter whenever the teacher hands out a fresh, new piece of paper, how eager you are to grab at the crayons and markers, how your tongue gets stuck between your teeth when you’re scribbling color across a page, like you could take the whole world and put right there on the shiny, white surface. sometimes, he thinks you can.

he wonders if he’ll ever find something that makes him feel like that.

“do you still want to come back next week then?

daichi starts, looking up at his mom with wide eyes.

“of course i do! i wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

02. “so… practice, right?” you ask, your hands laced behind your back as daichi shrugs, laughing, scratching at the back of his neck.

“yeah… but i’ll see you after your traditional arts club right?” he pauses at the end of the hallway that leads towards the volleyball gym. you teeter on the balls of your feet, your hair in twin pigtails near the nape of your neck. once, daichi had felt the urge to tug on them constantly, back when the pair of you were still in elementary school, but now that he’s in middle school, he’s decided that it’s high time at like the grown up that he is.

so he settles for a shy smile as you nod and wave at him, jogging off back towards the school’s main building.

“see you!” you shout, even as you disappear from around a corner and he’s left with his hand aloft, blinking after you.

“sawamura? what’re you staring at?” ikejiri blinks as he peers around the doors to the gym.

“oh! nothing — coming!” daichi blushes as he hurries to join ikejiri, casting one last look over his shoulder at the place where you’d been standing.

03. the summer sun blows itself out over the flat of the horizon, the july air sticky with humidity and the lingering taste of possibilities.

“so… where are you going next year?”

you turn your head to look at him, your hair done up in two neat plaits, the ends pinned to the sides of your head so as to keep them from tickling your neck. he tugs lightly on one of the loops; you let your head lilt to one side, offering no resistance as he pulls his hand back.

daichi casts his eyes up at the dying light of a fading sky and grins.

“karasuno! remember when we saw them on tv the other day?”

“oh yeah! they’re the team that went to nationals in tokyo, right?”

“yep! and… i wanna go there one day!”

daichi catches himself, feeling a blush work its way into his cheeks as he looks back down at his hands, resting over the worn old volleyball in his lap.

“don’t worry, you will.”

your voice is a splash of cold water, and he finds himself shivering. he looks up to meet your eyes, and he almost doesn’t want to ask. he doesn’t want to know —

“so… where are you going?”

you purse your lips.

“mom said her job’s moving her to tokyo so…” you shrug, “probably somewhere there…”

and then, painfully, startlingly, you laugh.

daichi’s head jerks up at the sound.

“but when you make it to nationals, then… you’ll be there too!”

he blinks at the smile on your face, too bright for the darkness of the oncoming night.

“r-right! so, i’ll see you then!”

he lets out a laugh too, though it sounds a bit too loud, a bit too forced. you smile nodding.

“i’ll see you then.”

it takes daichi half the walk home to realize that you hadn’t said “if” but “when”.

04. [daichi]: dont stay up too late studying! college entrance exams aren’t till next year!!

[you]: easy for u to say (¬_¬)… u’ll just get a sports scholarship or something…

[daichi]:… p sure im not but okay

[you]: p sure national-leveled athletes get scholarships bUt oKaY

[daichi]: p sure we haven’t made it to nationals yet

[daichi]: go to sleep.

[you]: no, u („• ֊ •„)

[you]: did u fall asleep

[daichi]: (－_－) zzZ

[you]: okies gnight! (─‿‿─)♡

daichi stares at the heart at the end of your message for way too long and tries not to read too much into it.

he stays up all night reading into it anyway.

05. “so… she’s gonna be here. at nationals. to watch you.”

“yes suga. that’s what i said.”

“okay but i wanna make sure you know what you said because from what you said, it sounds like she’s super into you and you’re just refusing to —”

“it’s not like that! w-we’re just old friends —!”

“ah… i know it might not be my place to say this but… it does sound like she might be interested…”

“ha! see? even asahi says so!”

“wha — when did this become a group discussion?!”

“huh? what are you guys talkin’ bout over here? is it that girl daichi-san’s always texting?”

“nishinoya! don’t say that so loudly! and — i’m not always texting her —”

“wait!!! are we finally meeting daichi-san’s mystery girlfriend?”

“tanaka! shut up! and she’s not —”

“daichi?”

daichi freezes and the next moment, several things happen all at once — suga gasps, tanaka stops dead in his tracks, asahi nearly bowls him over, and nishinoya smacks straight into asahi’s back, sending all of them toppling forward like a series of badly placed dominos and it’s all daichi can do to sidestep the mess before they drag him down as well.

but there you are, standing feet from him, watching all this unfold with that same amused smile on your face, with the same bright, sharp eyes he’d always remembered, and god — you look so similar and yet so… so different.

two and a half years has never looked so good, he thinks, as he swallows hard and tries to find something to say.

finally, he settles on, “h-hey! long… long time…”

you laugh, and it’s all he can do not to melt into the sound. because that — that hasn’t changed one bit — the sound still warm and sweet as a spring morning. it shakes through him, breaks him open like the sun over a cracking dawn — he takes a deep, steadying breath.

“yeah, no kidding! but…” you trail off as you take a few steps closer, your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on the broadness of his shoulders, the straightness of his spine, “kinda feels like no time’s passed at all, hm?”

daichi can’t help it — he blushes, clearing his throat as he averts his eyes.

behind him, suga is muttering something and he hears the distinct sounds of the rest of the team being shooed away and for once, he’s thankful that suga pulls his weight as vice captain when it really, really matters.

“i mean, two years is a long time,” he says, feeling suddenly too young and too old all at once, his stomach roiling inside him. he thought he’d have mastered nerves by now; he’s faced down mountains that no one had ever thought they’d summit but somehow… this… this is different.

“it is… you look good,” you say, grinning as you take another few steps forward, as if testing the waters, pushing the line of demarcation closer, and then ever closer. he doesn’t step back though it takes almost everything inside him to hold his ground.

“wow, you’re taller,” you laugh, looking up at him, now close enough for him to touch — reaching out a palm from the top of your head to just below his chin, “much taller…”

your voice is softer, then, like a sigh, a whisper, an admission of sorts. and it’s only then that daichi notices he’s not the only one blushing.

he coughs, swallows, flexes his fingers and forces himself to speak.

“y-you look different too — i mean, good different! you’re… uh — your hair is — longer and —”

daichi fights down the urge to curse, to turn around and run, to lay down on the ground right then and there and pray for the earth to carve itself open so he can fall into it’s dark, unending depths —

you blink, a slow, teasing smile spreading across your lips and daichi finds himself caught, as a thread on a chain-link fence, he looks at you and laughs, helpless, shaking his head.

“sorry… it’s just…” he casts about for words he isn’t quite sure he has. you shake your head, grinning.

“no, it’s fine — i know… it’s a little weird, isn’t it? i mean, two years is a really long time.”

“yeah but… like you said, somehow, it doesn’t really feel like… any time’s passed at all.”

daichi finds his hand reaching up before he can stop himself, almost like second nature, his fingers grazing the ends of your hair, now skimming halfway down your chest, twisted in a loose braid over one of your shoulders.

“it really did get longer but i cut it recently — you should’ve seen it before —” you laugh, looking down at where his fingers are still outstretched, reaching up your own hand to tug at the freshly trimmed ends.

“so… do you uhm — you still do art, right?” daichi asks, tucking both his hands into his pockets.

“yeah! and… you finally made it to nationals. congrats!” you wave an arm around the pair of you, and for a second, daichi had almost forgotten where the two of you were, standing in the bustling entrance hall of one of tokyo’s largest gymnasiums, all bright lights and excited voices.

“yeah — i guess i finally did… took us a while, but… we made it.”

you smile.

“i knew you would.”

daichi chuckles, letting his shoulder shrug up as all the awkwardness falls away between the pair of you, the years falling away day by day, month by month, until it’s just him and you and an entire future of the bright unknown, laid out at your feet.

“yeah, you never did doubt us… even when i did.”

you open your mouth, but someone’s voice cuts through the fray.

“daichi! we gotta go warm up!”

daichi jumps as suga waves at him from down the entire hall, looking both apologetic and exasperated.

“ah — sorry —” daichi turns back to you, his heart halfway to his throat as you nod, the pair of you suddenly tossed back into the present, like a movie caught in fast forward, the frames scrambling to catch up to the here and now.

“no! no — it’s okay! go! i’ll —”

“i’ll text you — see you after, okay? i mean, i don’t know how long — or if you had plans —”

“i don’t! text me — i’ll be here —”

“okay! good! that’s… that’s good!”

“daichi! c’mon, seriously!”

“sorry suga! i’ll be right there —” daichi turns back to you, caught between a frenetic panic and excitement, “i’ll… see you later, yeah?”

you nod, a blush high on your cheeks, nodding, “yeah! good luck! i’ll be watching.”

daichi opens his mouth, wonders if he should say something else, but suga is yelling for him again, and then there’s something warm pressed to his cheek. before he can think, you’re pulling away, your lashes dark and fluttering, your breath hot against his skin.

and then, you’re pressing a hand to his chest, pushing him into motion.

“for… for good luck. now, go!”

“y-yeah — uh — bye!”

you laugh, waving, pressing your lips together as you watch him stumbling rather blankly towards where the rest of his team is waiting for him.

“see you later!”

daichi raises a hand to the place on his cheek where your lips had been, feeling as if you’d smacked him across the face, in all the best of ways.

he looks stares down at his hand, and then back up at you, standing there, still waving.

“don’t — don’t go anywhere, okay?”

you laugh, nodding, now shooing him off proper as he reaches his team and suga starts to drag him bodily from the hall. daichi can’t help looking over his shoulder one more time before you disappear into the crowd, but he finds you immediately, standing on tip-toe, waving furiously at him.

“i won’t! i’ll be right here!"

#sawamura daichi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura daichi x you #sawamura daichi imagines #haikyuu imagines #sawamura daichi fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #floofy floof floof #haiCUTIES #im sorry this took so damn long anon i rly did love this prompt i just wanted to do it justice and i'm still not sure i did #but i wanted to get this out u__u #i simp for daichi now and i refuse to apologize

132 notes · View notes

trashlama · 2 years ago

Text

YAN!FUTURE!DONNIE X READER!!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Heeeeeeyyyyy guess whose back!

This is a part of I guess this series of one shots I got going on. →This post can explain more←

This is the image I used for Donnie in this one. ↓

Art isn't mine but the design is radical!

Sorry this took so long. Honestly I almost didn't post it cause I didn't like how it came out. Like I kept trying to fix it to how I like it buuutt, this was the best that I could do. I might try rewriting it or somethin'. I was just trying to change it up buuutt, I suck. Did my best with the proof reading. Probably could have tried to proof read it more.

Honestly this fic is pretty dark. Originally was darker.

Please no minors, 18+ only!(There's no smut or anything sexual, just a lot of technically triggering elements)

The meme in this fic is not mine I just found them on Pinterest and they were too good.

Read the creator's notes below for more!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Humming computer fans and diligent typing filled the silent void in the poorly lit room. If not for the obscured ominous glow of the various monitors littering the labatory you would've believed you had gone completely blind. Having already lost the vision on your right to the slimy pink tentacle bastards who transformed your planet into the living Hell on Earth.

Guess religion was right about something. At The End of Days the devil came for the damned. And in spite of your mother's faithful beliefs, there was never a savior to come swop away the righteous to the selective pearly gates of the Heaven she had mindlessly prayed to. She was wrong. Her savior locked her out.

There would be no salvation. Not for anyone.

Instead for the first thirteen years after the Krrang's invasion you suffered. Everyone suffered.

Shit hit the fan and it splattered like a chocolate pie in bad clown gag.

Overnight the world you had grown up in changed for the worse. Blind to the way society crumbled and turned into a Mad Max film. Unaware of the great loss. Naive and young you weren't prepared for the grotesque violence that replaced your boring mundane life that you had taken for granted.

How you wish there was a way to go back.

Return to days where your only worries were filling out job applications to move out of your mother's abode and getting into a good college. Begging whatever deities listened to accept you to one of the variety of schools you had applied for. Preferably one more than five hundred miles away from the run-down neighborhood in the Bronx you lived in. You've always wanted to travel the country and college opened up that opportunity to do so. Had everything gone according to plan you would've started your first semester that following fall.

Though it wasn't meant to be. Instead you spent that lonely winter, grieving

" (Y/n) "

At the call of your name the chain that hung from around your neck clanked as a single (e/c) orb snapped out of its routine day-dreams to look towards the owner of the tired deep voice that had called to you. It was Donatello. Said ninja turtle kneeling at your side next to the cot you both shared.

Within the nest of sheets you retracted from the curled position you had been laying in on top of the bed spread. A multi-paterned stitched quilt gifted by one of the softshell turtle's brothers— you forget who; rested at your feet, unused. Protecting thin (skin tone) skin from the piercing cold was a worn pair of faded PJs that consisted of a dark green long sleeve with fluffy grey plaid bottoms. The odd attire didn't bother you in the slightest. When living in the apocalypse fashion hardly matters. If it was usable it was wearable.

Despite of your efforts to block the aged mutant out by focusing your lone (e/c) gaze on soothing else. The Large cold hand of Donatello's petting the top of your head was all your traumatized receptors could focus on. Three lengthy jade digits combing rouge strands of unkept (h/l) (h/c) hair away from their position in your face. Wandering fingertips skimmed over your missing right eye. Playing with the white medical eye patch that kept the old wound hidden. Had this been seven months ago you would've already been trying to bite the technological General's scared appendage off. Though now at this point you just let the mutant do whatever. You didn't care.

The same regard was held when the purple clad turtle observed you. Anything and everything that flashed across your face was cataloged by your analyzing capter's dark narrowed stare. A common occurrence that never faltered in its repetitiveness.

Exhaustion dominated the aged jade complexion of Donatello's. His expression would be read bored if not for the controlled obsession that lurked in pools of night.

You always did like his eyes. Even when they were hidden behind the dual frames perched on his snout. One half a traditional prescription lens the other a crimson infrared optic that provided extra assistance to the current wearer. Like a moth to the flame you were drawn to the night sky he held in those dark pools.

"You're wasting the food Mikey brought you" the softshell flatly chastised. Those same magnetic dark eyes that had been locked with yours turned away momentarily to retrieve something from beside him. The tattered greyish purple cloak he wore tied loosely around his sturdy shoulders draped forward revealing the silver cybertronic mechanical substitute for his left arm. A necessary loss for the cause he dutifully worked for.

You hadn't respond to his comment.

For a moment you began to sink back into your land of memories if it had not been for the scrapping metal of the fork against the plate that was now in the purple bandana wearing turtle's grasp. Stabbing at the rations that the commissary passed out earlier that day. At least you're assuming it's day. It's hard to tell when you never leave the underground base, let alone the prison of Donatello's lab that doubled as his quarters.

Back in reality something moist pressed against your bottom lip.

"Eat."

Robotically you obeyed.

You learned a long time ago that starving doesn't work. It was this or the feeding tub. At least this didn't hurt your throat. The ache in your esophagus from the experience lasted for weeks after. Bile threatening to rise if you focused any longer on the nightmarish memory.

Up till the plate was cleared the mutant continued to feed you. Picking at the dish's portions until there was nothing left. After which the adult ninja turtle placed the cutlery to the side before taking a corner of his faded cloak to wipe away the food residue left around your mouth. Repeating the same method with the plastic cup that sat precariously on the table to the other side of you next to the cement wall.

For a moment his calculative narrowed gaze stared at you before deciding something.

"...I have to go work on the faulty pump in the filter for the hydroponic system in the Agriculture Unit later...." Thick brows frowed together in an unsure manner upon his purple-clad forehead as he continued. ".....would you be interested in joining me for the endeavor?" The aged ninja finally prompted.

You didn't respond.

Had this been seven months ago you would've replied with an immediate yes. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Back then you would've thought somebody, anybody, would help you.

But if that were the case you would've been free already.

It wasn't necessarily a secret that you belonged to the purple bandana wearing brainiac. On the contrary it was a well known fact amongst the inhabitants of the base. It was just an unspoken topic. An issue that the Commander and the rest of the generals much rather sweep under the rug than to confront.

You learned it the hard way.

You had managed to get away somehow after Donatello first claimed you. Before the chained leash that pooled around you became a permanent fixture. In its place there had been a small amount of leeway the softshell gifted you. A fragile trust you didn't bother to strengthen prior to your attempt two months into your captivity. Maybe things would've been different.

You had told Donnie you were just gonna go to the commissary and get them some lunch. Claimed you were trying to be a nice, good partner. You didn't want to disturb the important work you were so proud of him for. Like a termite at Home Depo he ate it up. A bashful smile stretched across his jade complexion that was burnt red.

Playing the serpent who tricked Adam, you slithered from the technological garden of paradise. Departing with a false display of affection. Pride filled you from the phenomenal performance you gave.

Taking flight to the wind you ran down the Resistance headquarters hallways. Without meaning too you lost yourself around the twist and turns of unfamiliar corridors. Your limited vision and even less knowledge of the section's layout not being of much aid to your mission. Especially since prior to your imprisonment you hadn't ventured to this area since it was restricted to Resistance officers way above your ranking.

Though your plan was to run into someone. Anyone who could help you. You were gonna rat out that purple techno creep. He needed to pay. You were fed up with this stupid apocalypse.

Eventually after sprinting down the halls for God knows how long. You found your self face first into the plastron of General Michelangelo.

"Wwhooo! Slow down little missy! You're gonna give this old man a scare!" The greying box turtle joked even though you weren't very much younger than him. Catching your charging figure easily between rough moss palms. Out of breath you began spewing your story. Begging the mystic mutant to help you get away from his crazy purple coded brother.

"Oooohh, so yoouurr (Y/n)..." The youngest general gathered. Aged face scrunching up in a contemplative way, as if he was thinking. For a moment you had thought maybe the mutant turtle knew who you were cause somebody had reported your missing presence. Realized that you had been stolen by one of the very leaders they worked under. Unfortunately that was not the case.

"Yes! I'm (Y/n)! Your brother Donatello, he—"

"Said that if you got lost to return you to him!~"

What.

It was too late to retreat. You didn't even have the chance to react before the orange clad General had you on the ground. Wind punched from your lungs by the sudden force. Mouth mimicking a fish out of water as you gasped for much needed air. Next thing you knew your hands were bound behind your back by the same orange bandana wearing mutant you sought aid from. Kicking and screaming as the moss green Hamato sibling dragged you back to where you had started.

Entering the lab Michaelangelo greeted his flabbergasted older brother. Sporting a wide cheshire grin as he released his grip on you to only then in the same motion push your unbalanced wobbly stature forward caching yourself on Donatello's chest. Leaving shortly after with some sort of fucked up quip you couldn't hear past the pounding in your ears. Heart jackhammering painfully against your ribs. The beat too powerful for any other sound to break it's dominating rythem.

Were you about to have a heart attack?A stroke? You couldn't tell. You didn't think people your age had them.

Once left alone the white hot fury you had expected never came. No beating. Nor any dismemberment of a limb. There were no threats made for your dire transgression. No shouts or screams of possessive anger. Only unnerving still silence.

Somehow that was worse.

You lied. You tried to leave. You made a scene with his younger brother only for said orange clad sibling to drag you back like the dog who got out.

The first ten–fifteen minutes you both just stood there. There were no excuses nor pleading from your part. Just utter overwhelming suffocating quite. The jade and purple tattooed complexion of the General's who stood before you was drained to match snow. Face displaying a composed, conserved expression to anyone who was looking in from the outside.

Unfortunately for you it was always Donatello's dark eyes that gave everything away.

Hurt. He was undeniably wounded by the injury. You broke the thin veil of trust he gave you. You could have done whatever you wanted. As long as you didn't stray far from him. Stayed and supported him. It was all he wanted.

The softshell was so happy when you forged that lie believing the act to be true. Believing that you cared about his health and work. Being kind and supportive enough to trek and retrieve both of your guys' lunch. Except upon his younger mutant brother's arrival the fantasy he was living in was broken. It was all a lie. You deceived him. Betrayed the tempered trust that two of you shared. A thin string you willing snipped.

Saltwater streaks poured down in silent bunches as the aged ninja turtle lowered his head. He really thought you had loved him as you whispered sweet claims from soft deceiving lips that kissed his heated cheek a farewell. Departing with that smile that made his heart race. Donatello was hurt. And so the turtle did the only thing that would hurt you just as much as you had hurt him.

Had you known what he was going to do maybe you would've fought harder than you had.

No words were exchanged as the mutant scientist tied your jittery limbs to your paralyzed figure. Plastic white ties zipped painfully tight around (skinned tone) appendages. Though fear hadn't taken it's full course until the softshell began to secure a thick fabric around your head, blinding you. Finding the immediate endless world of black frightening.

"Please— don't do this— I-I'm sorry!" You plead as large cold hands slide a set of what you assume are noise canceling buds into your ears. You couldn't catch your breath. Your heart wouldn't still itself as it fought for space within your ribcage. "Please! I— mphmfh!"was all you could cry before lastly a gag was stuffed into your teriffied jaws. Based on the texture of the rough fabric you deduced it was most likely an old gym sock from the clothing bin. The worn garment scratched at the roof of your mouth making you taste cooper.

Donnatello hadn't planned to use this method this early on but, this was a lesson that needed to be learned. He was going to deprive you of your senses. Leave you lost just as he would've been without you. Maybe then you'd understand.

For some time you were just scared shitless. Frightful of the purple coded general's unknown intentions. Was he gonna torture you? Kill you and keep the body? The imaginary list was much more scary than the actual first quarter of the punishment . Thankfully nothing happened. The turtle left you be. Probably just watching you from his typical spinny chair from in front of the large monitor dominating the room. The motherfucker probably felt like Batman or some shit sipping on his coffee as you the Joker— fucked around in the holding tube.

When the endless darkness started to pick at your already aggravated anxiety you had tried to force yourself asleep to escape the void. However you found the effort quickly fruitless. Trapped without sound or any background stimulation aside from the limited range of touch at your disposal made the task feel impossible. Dissolving lines between real and what was not becoming harder to differentiate with every passing unknown second.

Attempts to keep your sanity felt futile in spite of efforts to keep the screws forming coming loose. Clawed (skin tone) palms and curling toes only did so much. When all else failed you felt only one thing could be done. You need to feel something. Anything. You couldn't do this anymore. The scratches in your palms did not suffice.

Doing what you felt was your only choice in your spiralling panic. You began to throw yourself around across the lab's tile floor. Using your upper body and knees you inch worm around the room. Purposely banging yourself into anything and everything so you may injure yourself. Feeding your starved receptors with whatever painful sensations you could produce.

Donatello was quick to remove the suppressors once you really started injuring yourself. Most likely calling it when the various wounds littered your (s/c) skin began to form. Following the path you had squirmed eyes like La Brea tar pits found speckles of crimson decorating a variety of the objects in his workspace. As if a baby crawled around repainting his lab with dots of red.

What a pain. Couldn't you have just accepted the punishment like an adult? Now he was gonna have to clean up this mess later. But alas just as many great minds of science had taught him. There was always a price to be paid for results. Maybe he should've just thrown you into solitary or made a modification or two to your Achilles tendons.... Next time.

Cold hands without delay discarded the ear buds and spit soaked sock. Your chest was still rising too fast. You were gonna puke if you stayed any longer in the dark. Though once the blind fold was discarded the softshell turtle's concerned expression was the first thing you saw. The sight of another instantly calming the bees stabbing your stomach lining. A flash of worry glimmered in those pools of ink. Only for the emotion to be consumed by the sticky black tar that lurked beneath.

"Did you learn your lesson?" The purple tattooed turtle questioned softly as he scooped your zip tied bound form into his mix matched arms. Combination of flesh and steel cradling you as he maneuvered towards his cot. Donatello was aware that you have one too but, recently the color coded general had been considereing just having you sleep with him. It'd save him space.

"I doubt it." he chided with a small grin that didn't match his eyes as he laid you down. Tucking you into his barely used sheets.

You didn't bother to request for him to remove the plastic bonds as exhaustion dragged you into the realm of slumber. Senses finally relaxing thanks to some stimulation. Allowing the phantom hand caresse the curve of your cheek as you drifted away.

When you awoke your injuries were bandaged and the plastic that had restrained you was gone. In the zip ties stead was a steel collar and chain hooped around the deadbolt installed in the cool tiled floor of the purple brainiac's lab. The same device you wore to this present day.

"(Y/n).... (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)....."

"(Y/n)"

Oh no you got lost in your memories again didn't you? Based on the softshell's expression, your answer would be yes.

"(Y/n)... I think you should come with me when I go to the farming unit. I think it'd be good for you ....and maybe we'll even see Leon and Casey Jr. " Donnie soothed. His large cold hand returning at some point continued to comb the wild flyaways that tried to elude his threading jade fingers.

You didn't care. You bobbed your head. Listening but, not particularly agreeing nor disagreeing to anything as you went along with the general's wishes.

°°°°°°

In the hallway you and Donatello walked side by side. Your collar and chain were gone. Left behind in the lab due to the bondage being bolted to the floor. Not very mobile. Which in turn left you shackle free for the trip. Seven months ago you would've already tried to attack the turtle like the wild dog you were. You had been.

Now the tamed rescue, you leapt and barked without hesitation when commanded.

Like a good pup you didn't stray from your master's side.

Traversing through the base with the lumbering mutant was a quiet affair. No one bothered the two of you as the purple clad genuis led the way.

Here and there the technological general would make small talk by commenting about certain functions found throughout the headquarters along the short journey. Explaining uses of faculties and tech that had been constructed long before you ever stepped foot in the Resistance headquarters.

Long before you ever met the softshell who kept you prisoner in his room. Like a toy a spoiled child didn't want to share.

Pushing open the floppy doors to the Ag unit; bright UV rays burned your sensitive retinas that grew unconditioned to direct sunlight due to the dark room you were trapped in on a daily. Although unlike you, Donatello's dark narrowed stare remained unfazed by the bright light. Not even a stinge of discomfort upon disciplined matured features.

Artificial warmth even if false still felt soothing on your cold (skin tone) skin.

How you missed the real thing.

Missed the stupid picnics your mother would force you on. Laying under shady emerald trees in the smothering New York summer heat under a bright blue sky. Pouting as you watched your mother and brother played on the playground. You used to think those family outings were a waste of your time when you could be hanging with your friends or studying. Be anywhere but with them. How foolish you were.

A small frown laced your lips as you recalled the more peaceful days.

"(Y/n) this way" Donatello's voice called from in front of you. At some point having grabbed your hand to pull you closer to his tall stature as he escorted the two of you through the rows of growing produce. The tips of his long purple bandana tickled your nose but you made no complaints.

"Donnie over here!"

Onwards he directed you along.

Off in the near distance was the blue clad Commander. On his shelled back was a raven haired child that looked no more than nine.

"Oi! Casey Jr can you please be un bueno niño(a good little boy)!" The leader begged as the afro mentioned brown-eyed boy tugged at the long tied strands to his azure mask. Tighting the fabric painfully around his head. Giggling at his guardian's torment. "Nah! This is so much fun el anciano(old man) " Casey cheered, showing off a wide chipped tooth grin. A recent cosmetic development much to Leo's jargon.

Back and forth the two went as you and Donatello approached the comedic duo. The softshell grown a small grin on his normally uninterested expression.

" Thank Gram Gram you're here Donnie! The pump to the filter finally said capoot! And—"

"Yeah I know that's why I'm here." The jade colored turtle cut off his Commander.

Leonardo didn't mind his brother's injection. Smile still present upon olive skin.

"Alright-o dear brother-o! I'll leave you to it."

As the two siblings continued to chat over the needed maintenance, the raven haired boy leaning over the lumbering leader's shoulder stared straight at you. Eyes like teddy bear plushies bore into your being as they watched. Wide and impressionable. Brown judging spheres.

You could feel the bugs scuttling under your skin again.

"(Y/n)..., (Y/n) are you listening?"

Breaking from the losing staring competition you were having with the nine year old. Knowing dark eyes like night drew your attention back to the mutant who was cradling your hand between his own odd pair.

Once the scientist was sure he had all of you here he repeated his directions. " (Y/n) I want you to hangout out here for a little while I work. The pump requires more attention than I had initially thought..." Jade eyelids closed for a moment as the mutant exhaled his stored breath. " ...if you need me you can ask Leo. He had said he and Casey had some things to do here for a bit anyways so he doesn't mind watching you."

You didn't care. It was just nice being outside that damn lab in general.

With the nod of your head Donatello allowed your smaller hand free from his mix matched grasp. " I'll be back soon. If you get too hot tell Leo and he'll take you inside to cool down." The turtle further explained. It was like he wasn't sure if he could depart from you. Even if he was only temporarily leaving you under his twin's supervision. He still didn't like the idea of not having you beside him as he worked. However the space in the room with the filter was limited. Although Donnatello would prefer to have you in sight. Genius does take a little finesse and he always performed best with space.

With one more glance the softshell turtle turned and left. Walking towards the small building far off in the corner of the massive underground green house.

Once gone you were left standing there. Unmoving like a puppet without it's puppeteer.

You guess you stood there for too long cause at some point the Leonardo approached and rested his palm on your clothed shoulder. Probably making sure you're still there before his olive palm spirited away.

Hands very much like Donatello's. Too much like Donnie's. The touch made you shutter. You hated it. You hated the jade turtle who did this to you.

Based on the Commander's look you could tell he wanted to ask if you were good. Though the question would be pointless when the answer was as obvious as the dirt that coated the thin fabric of your eggshell colored slip-on flats.

"Sensei why is that weird girl that General Donnie brought only got one eye? Is she a pirate?" Casey Jr inquired not aware of the offensive statement he constructed.

The blue clad leader flicked his retainee's forehead. Lightly punishing the child as he chastised the raven haired boy for the rude question. "Casey Jr that's not how we talk about people. Especially ladies. If you have a question you ask them politely. " The retainer informed. Dark onyx eyes too similar to that of his brainac twin's slid back to your cemented figure.

You were waiting.

With an awkward grin Leo proposed that you join him and Casey Jr on their check up on the Agricultural workers. You didn't respond, just nodding to whatever the aged ninja turtle had suggested.

Around the large farming area that had to be as big, if not bigger than old New York City's Grand Central Station. The red eared slider led you and Casey Jr around as he performed leader duties. The task not being that tedious if it wasn't for the raven haired kinder who wouldn't leave you be. The orphan kept asking too many personal questions for your taste. None of which you responded too. Though that didn't mean it stopped the nine year old from chatting your ear off.

For what felt like forever Casey Jr went on about, everything. There wasn't a single topic he stuck to. Bouncing from asking about how you knew General Donnie to do you always wear pajamas? What was your favorite food? Do you have any parents? What's your favorite game in the rec room?

The kid was gonna be the death of you if not the UVs that were starting to roast you. The faded winter sleeping attire you wore not necessarily the best outfit to be clothed in while under the artificial rays. Though you didn't complain. Didn't want to miss this opportunity to be outside of the technological General's lab.

You weren't ready to go back to the darkness. Not yet.

A single (E/c) colored orb found itself focused on the sudden opportunity presented.

You didn't have to go back as long as you did this right. You could be free. You couldn't fuck this up again. Not again. The anxiety of the looming punishment sat in the back of your mind. Giggling. A child-like tone mocking you for your thoughts of freedom. Reminding you if you escaped something worse could happen. Would happen.

Blood trickled down the (skin tone) surface of your chin. You had accidentally chewed your bottom lip to ground beef with your nervous tick, again.

Using the right sleeve of your pajama shirt you wiped away the oozing crimson fluid.

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" Casey's high but worried voice broke you from your scheming thoughts.

Looking down at Casey Jr's baby checks that had been holding a wide chipped smile instead thinned out into a tight frown. Wide brown orbs innocently peered up at you with concern.

For a moment you didn't reply.

Looking past the apocalyptic born child observing the interaction between Leo and the worker he spoke to. Gageing how much longer you had before the Commander returned from the discussion.

" I'm fine... but, ....do you think you could help me with something Casey? "

°°°°°°°

When his softshell twin asked him if he could watch (Y/n) while he worked on the hydroponic filter pump. The red eared slider was not gonna lie, he was not looking forward to the task. Already having his own gremlin running a muck the last thing the blue clad Commander wanted was a creepy-ass robot following them around.

However whenever it came to Donnie and (Y/n) being involved in the same situation there was hardly room for argument. Leo was the leader of the Resistance he swore that he'd do his best to help end this apocalypse and to do so he needed a functional base. That entailed having a controlled food supply, functioning weaponry, dormitories, facilities— the works. If anything was to go down. The blue bandana wearing mutant only has one reliable individual who could repair, design, modify— you name it. In less time than a whole team of engineers and mechanics he could whip up— combined. Only Donnie could do it. It's cause of the afro mentioned scientist and his inventions that the Krrang hadn't taken them out yet. The aged blue bandana wearing turtle wasn't actually sure how long they could fend off the pink tentacle armada without his softshell twin.

The thought keeps him on edge sometimes— what if the turtle passed or chose not to use his gift the way he does. They'd be screwed in the long run. The turtle imagines it would be similar to that of ant colony walking into a spider's nest. The carnage would be unsalvageable. They'd have to use the last resort.

He couldn't afford for shit to go sideways.

And sometimes if that meant sacrifices... for the greater good so be it. It was something the mutant leader wasn't proud of.

Leo isn't even really sure when the purple clad mutant even met (Y/n) or how. Donnie kept mostly to himself. Never straying far from his lab and a working coffee machine. So the fact the caffine addicted nerd met someone, let alone a girl. Truly made the phenomenon a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes.

He knew what he was doing when Donnie made his ultimatums. It was (Y/n) or no base. The softshell mutant was aware the kind of game he was playing. How it would affect everyone. So many would be lost because the adult ninja turtle wanted to throw a tantrum. Leonardo was ashamed but, it was necessary. He had to give in to the mad scientist's demands. The olive skinned mutant would like to say he had no choice— But he did. And he chose to keep the Resistance alive rather than allowing you to be free. He couldn't. Donnie wanted you and so you were the purple clad General's. There was no room for negotiations. The softshell was always stubborn like that. He played the odds in his favor. He'd let the whole base crumble if it meant he couldn't have you.

And for the last year, that was that.

Leonardo knew that Donatello was keeping you in his lab and that at some point over the last twelve months the workspace began to double as the jade turtle's quarters as well.

Only discovering the new development when visiting his purple color coded brother one day. The blue bandana wearing leader doesn't remember what he had gone to his sibling's work space for but, once inside he found the usual cluttered layout. However off closer to the far wall in the direct line of sight was the (Blonde/Brunette/Raven or Scarlet Haired/ Etc) tribute his brother had demanded for.

This had been when the (e/c) eyed woman still had her own bed. Though at some point after your escape attempt that had been thwarted by Mikey. He remembered because of the presence of the steel restraints that you typically wore when in Donnie's laboratory.

In the corner you were laying down. Hands obviously bound behind your back. The (h/c) haired captive probably scratched her neck raw again. His theory only confirmed upon closer inspection. Beneath the steel collar a dressing of white gauze. Though that wasn't the only injury. Like a Christmas present you were wrapped almost head to toe in the cotton bandages. Most likely caused by other attempts to break free from your bonds which backfired. Resulting in Donnie just further inhibiting your mobility.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why the softshell turtle did what he does. If he loved you, why did he let you hurt yourself like this? The technological General's plan was to rid you of your will. Like the mustang in stables he was gonna break that need to be free. You would be his. The aged purple coded mutant wouldn't accept anything less.

It was creepy how his sciencey twin doted on his feral captive. How even when discussing the condition of the base the crippled mutant still gravitates towards your curled up figure. In spite your attempts to chomp off his jade digits the Donnie still continued to glide his fingers through (h/c) strands. The action was bizarre to the red eared slider. He couldn't relate but if this kept the softshell from throwing the headquarters into the destructive hands of the Krrang. So be it.

Which brings Leo back to the current task at hand. Watching both Casey Jr and his brother's captive as he did his patrols of the agricultural production. He needed to start getting a feel of the ratio amount of crops so he knew how to plan for the Resistance's future. Winter was gonna be coming soon and scavenging in the snow was not an easy feat. Especially with pink tentacle freaks and the assimilated around every lurking corner up on the surface.

Leo was sure that this was gonna be a pain in the shell however to his surprise he found some entertainment out of the one sided conversation Casey Jr was having with you.

Regardless of the lack of your response, the raven haired boy kept bombarding you with rounds of endless questioning. Like twenty-one questions but, with more like five hundred-fifty-five questions. It was hilarious. Many times as he was communicating with his subordinates he would over hear Casey Jr spout something random. Comedic prompting caused the mutant leader to muffle his chuckles on a few occasions. The action earned him a raised brow or two from a couple of agricultural workers.

Everything was fun and games, until it wasn't.

Leo had been strolling down one of the many select rows of dirt walkways onto the next location he needed a report from. He had been listening to his live comedy show when he noticed the lack of quips from his adolescent charge. That's when he peeked over his broad shoulder, only to find nothing but the dirt path beneath his feet. Casey Jr and (Y/n) nowhere to be found.

That's when suddenly shit turned into a real life Lou Jitsu movie with a plot twist that kept the viewer at the edge of their seat. Except for Leo this wasn't a Lou Jitsu movie. He fucked up. Shit wasn't just gonna line up and all his problems would be solved. No. Hot Soup he had to solve this himself. The Resistance Commander gripped the inside pockets of his loose fitted beige pants. A small amount of anxiety rose at the possible implication of the duo's absence meant.

Now the blue clad mutant was aware he was the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew some things. For example, you wanted to leave. Casey Jr knew how to leave the base. Leo taught him in case of emergency if the red eared slider himself or someone else wasn't present to assist the child. Said afro mentioned charge wanted you to respond to his pestering. And the Resistance leader was distracted by the comedic routine and his patrols to notice the disappearance of the two-man comedic troupe he had been chaperoning.

The grown ninja turtle knew what you were doing. If his hypothesis was correct—

You were trying to use Casey Jr to escape.

The blue bandana wearing turtle internally scolded himself for his stupidity. He knew you wanted to escape. He shouldn't have let his guard down just because of your meek unresponsive domineer and his humorous charge.

Donatello was gonna kill him if he didn't find you before the purple clad mutant was finished repairing the pump. Which at this point was any minute.

Taking a deep breath of air Leonardo calmed his startled nerves. The mutated Commander had no reason to stress. He could handle this easily. Reminding himself that he taught Casey Jr how to flee from the base. If that truly was the case this retrieval should be a walk in the park.

Cursing his luck under his breath the olive skinned turtle dashed off in the suspected direction that you and Casey had traveled. Unaware of inky orbs following his brother's retreating figure. Ignorant to the irritated displeasure that burned within the tary pits.

°°°°°°°°

As a kid your mother the ever devoted follower— used to warn you about making deals with demons and wicked imps. They'd offer whatever you wished for just a simple price before snatching away your soul. Never would you ever reach the kingdom in the clouds with her and your brother Ethan(I know so creative). Now adult, you knew that stuff was a crock of shit— but as a starry-eyed child with all the hopes and no crushed self esteem, you believed it. Though now as you traversed through disgusting sewer waste you can honestly say that it was a possibility. How else did you end up in this mess? You rolled the dice with the jade devil and now you couldn't pay.

"(Y/n)? .....Were you even listening?"

Without even realizing it you drifted off into your thoughts again an occurrence that only seemed to become more frequent the longer you stayed in that base. In that lab. With the purple bandana wearing turtle who betrayed your trust.

Hopefully after this you wouldn't have to worry about that mutated swindler ever again.

"Sorry.. I was just thinking about something...could you repeat what you said again?" You asked glancing down at your miniature guide, a tight smile presented on your (skin tone) face. It's been a while since you had to play nice.

It was selfish but, you had no other choice. You'd never have this opportunity again. You only had one way out. No one else was gonna help you. Push came to shove you were willing to do whatever it took to flee from the purple clad demon who wouldn't leave you be.

" Dios miós! I-iii aaasked why you're tryinna' to leave this base? Isn't everyone like, tryinna' to get in the base not out? " The doomsday child inquired. Emphasizing his question with a dramatic arched brow and one big questioning eye. The expression very animated. The kid likely picked up the look from a old salvaged comic from the Resistance headquarters' communal library.

Not prepared for the sudden insightful line questioning from the nine year old who up until now had been just asking whatever seemed to pop into his head.

With a forced grin you replied. "You wish." Teasing the now pouting child before continuing. "Though if you must know. I'm gonna go see some family." You lied releasing a tired exhale as your sole (e/c) orb looked around the seemingly empty canels that Casey was accompanying you through. Claiming that he only knew the way based on the look of the surroundings. How he tells the difference between one gross wall from another gross wall slightly boggled your head. Though if it got you out of this cement prison you didn't care.

For a moment as the two of you walked side by side the raven haired child peered up at you with a squinting gaze as he absorbed your answer. Another cartoonish action that made the corner of your lip slightly curl.

"Hmmmm... Alrighty! I can understand wanting to see your family. I lost my mother when I was young but, Leo and his brothers always make me feel right at home!" The young child perked as he grinned up at you with that wide chipped grin of his.

You missed this type of interaction. No fighting or an obsessive purple bandana wearing turtle lurking. Just two normal people just having a plain conversation. No commands or shifty deals. Just one person leading the other to the long awaiting freedom you've desired.

These interactions with the teddy bear brown eyed boy become more challenging with each quip the child spoke. Insects were drilling into the flesh under your skin again. Burrowing into the empty casket of your missing soul. Thriving on what is left of your sanity as they scuttled around in the memories you didn't want to face.

Somehow peering down at the chubby cheeks and scruffy black hair of Casey Jr's that didn't resemble Ethan in any way— still made you think of your deceased younger sibling.

He had been only eight years old he was the first to go out of your happy family trio. It had happened when the Krrang had first opened their portal. Neither one of you were prepared for the earthquake like shake before the ceiling of your mother's apartment collapsed and crushed the two of you under crumbling rubble. When you came to after pushing crumbled drywall from on top of yourself and searching for your younger sibling. All you found when you searched through broken pieces of your childhood home was blood. You couldn't lift the interior support beam off of where you had presumed Ethan was. The steel was far too heavy and your palms were too coated in the surrounding sediment to be able to lift the remaining pieces. You couldn't do anything. Unable to fulfill the role of the older sibling.

For hours you bawled as you had tried to wait for your mother's return. She had been at work when the Krrang attacked. You never did find out what became of her. You always did hope that she got away and somehow was doing well. Even if the reality is she most likely got assimilated or killed. You still always prayed she was doing good.

You just wanted to see them again. Go back in time and re-live the moments you carelessly spent. Fights and words you wish could be taken back. Reclaim wasted opportunities that you'll never have again. How you wish you could tell them you loved them both one last time.

"(Y/n) were here."

At the sound of Casey Jr's squeaky voice your lone (e/c) orb found presented before it was a waterfall of sludge that spilled over into a thirty-five foot drop. Leading down into what appeared into a bay of the same icky substance rushing past your soaked flats. An

With a cheeky grin the raven haired boy pointed down into the pool below. "This is it, the end of the line for me!" The boy quipped before continuing. "I can't go any further with you but, if you keep following that tunnel down there you should be out of the sewers in no time!" Casey finished with a smirk arms crossed over his tiny chest as he explained the directions. Obviously proud himself for remembering his Sensei's words.

" Thanks... " You grinned awkwardly. Not particularly fond of the idea of swimming through god knows what.

"Goodbye Casey, ...thank you for showing me the out." A small smile grew on your face as you looked back at the nine year old only to see the cause of your nightmares standing silently in the background. Glowing optic reflecting in the shadows like a beast prowling the jungle.

Suddenly the spacious catacomb you've been traversing through didn't have enough air. Your chest clenched tight around the squishy organs encased in your ribs.

"(Y/n) are you alrig—"

"Casey Jr stay back!"

It was Leonardo, already at his charge's side holding back the nine year old from advancing any further into the situation that no longer included them. Donatello already approaching forward with the same air of confidence he always carried. Expression studious and sharp. Although the purple tattooed turtle did not display it— he was fucking furious.

"I should've known you would do this to me, (Y/n). " The General dryly chuckled as he edged closer. Every bold step forward the purple bandana wearing ninja took, the closer your shaking legs stumbled towards the slimy edge of the trash filled waterfall. In his three fingered grip a pair of steel cuffs. The kind you see in the movies except from the look of the bulky things. The ones dangling from Donatello's right hand were real.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck— Things were moving too fast. Your rampaging pumping muscle was going to explode. Panicked breaths filled the range of sound your anxiety allowed at you honed in on the jade demon in front of you.

" I should've never made that deal with you... you lied to me. You knew that my mother was dead— YOU KNEW!" You cried as your lone (e/c) eye flashed back and forth between the cracking edge you stood on and the softshell who stood before you. "You fucking lied to me! You played me just so I would stay! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Panting you learned forward, (skin tone) palms resting on your knees. Never breaking eye contact with the aged turtle who although appeared collected was everything but. Narrowed black eyes filled with so much anger. Though still allowed you continue.

"I... -pant-....will never.. -pant- ..fucking love you. You were a mistake. Any feelings I ever had for you were a mistake. I wish I never had met you. I wish I fucking died when you rescued me on your stupid scrap run those months ago..." Straighten your stature you gave the infuriated jade turtle one last look as you smugly looked him dead in the eye.

"I wish whatever fucked up God had chose to taken General Raph, ....had instead killed you..." You calmly stated. Laughing as you continued. Silent tears finally falling out of your last good eye. " Hahahaha— the only reason— you are soooo important enough to still be alive is because your older brother decided to give his life for all of you sick fucks! I pity his sacrifice— maybe at least if he was still here he would know how to handle shit instead of giving into an overgrown spoiled brat like you!"

Silence. No one made a peep. The only sound that broke through the thick tension in the tunnel was the rushing sound of the sewers water that at this point has successfully drenched the legs of your muck covered plaid bottoms.

In the background the fearless blue bandana wearing Commander's emotions were all laid out on his nonexistent sleeve. He was hurt, pissed, and over all he just looked disturbed with the overall conversation.

Meanwhile Casey Jr shielded his face into his Sensei's plastron. Quite sobs choking the boy as his tiny hands griped onto his Commander's beige pant leg like his life depended on it. Terrified of the situation that didn't make sense to the child. The sight made your heart ache just a little bit.

Donatello didn't say anything. He didn't do anything just bore holes into your soul. You had opened your mouth to continue berating the purple clad asshole who's kept you in his fuckin' lab for the last year. Forced you to sleep next to him. Locked you up like a dog when you tried to run away.

However the jade mutant beat you to the punch.

"Shut up. Don't you dare even say another fucking word. "The aged ninja seethed, closing the space between the two of you in a blink of an eye. His left metal palm shooting to grasp your according bicep, tightening his grip around the tender flesh.

" I don't ever want to ever hear you mention Raph's name ever again. You don't fucking deserve to say it. You're so ungrateful and pathetic it just makes everyone around you laugh at your stupidity. Are you really trying to leave the base? Me? For what? Just so you can go fucking kill yourself out there? I saved you. I'm supporting the human race even when all the facts say I shouldn't. That I should've given up on this stupid apocalypse alooong time ago but, I didn't. I had wanted to when we had crossed paths for the first time. When I rescued you, I changed my mind. Why can't you just be grateful!?!?" Donatello cried as he pushed you from the tunnels edge into the roaring murky waters below.

°°°°°

Beep...beep...beepbeepbeep

There she is.

The softshell will admit he lost a bit of his composure back there. He shouldn't have pushed you from that high of a point but, you just made him so mad. How dare you bring up Raph. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like on that battlefield. There was no winning, only retreat. You don't realize how much he wishes everyday that the one who had perished was himself not Raph. You don't realize. You're always so naive. That's why Donatello was here to keep you safe. It was for your own good.

There.

In the shallow waters was your water logged figure. Obviously you were out cold based off small rise and fall of your chest.

With a sigh, Donatello slid the projected screen from the monitor on his cybertronic arm. Deactivating the tracker that was implanted in your abdomen. Lucky for him had installed this little insurance a long time ago after one of your many fits just for this type of emergency. Finding the gadget handy in locating you both times. Not having to rely on his red eared slider twin's amazing capabilities.

Trekking into the shallow water the purple clad turtle reached down and retrieved your knocked out figure. Not caring particularly much about the condition of his loose dark purple pants that soaked up the surrounding water fairly quickly.

With a strong exhale of air the technological general retreated back to his base chastising you under his breath along the way. Once there the softshell would insure that you wouldn't have another opportunity like this again.

Like a true scientist Donatello learns from his mistakes and he'll keep trying until one of his punishments clicks. It's not like you won't give the techno demon the opportunity to do so. Not that Donatello minds.

After all where would science be without trial and error?

¶¶Creator's notes¶¶

Wazzup!

You guys made this far so you deserve the scoup on the next one-shot will be...

Drum roll🥁🥁

Yan!Future!Raph x Reader 🎉🎉

I don't have a picture for Future Raph but, if you guys have any good pictures saved hit me up I'm always open.

I have some ideas on how I want to do it. Though I could also turn it into a post movie sort of deal. Where it takes place after the events of the ROTTMNT movie. Thouughhh it's up to you guys. One person has already voted for some future Raph so we'll see what I come up with.

377 notes · View notes

starsurface · 11 months ago

Note

Do you have Nightwolf age regressor headcanons too? I loved your Caregiver one and would be sooo curious to see the flip side of the coin! Poor baby has trauma in his lore that makes him seem so lil’ and precious! 😭❤️

I don't know much about his lore, but if you'd like more hcs focused on what he's been through, I can make that post!!! :D These are just some Regression Nightwolf hcs that I have for him but I'd love to do more if you'd like focusing more on what he's been through!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Nightwolf Hcs

🐺 Regresses to about 3-5

🐺 Also had a middlespace headspace of about 11/12

🐺 (^ My personal hc is that he had a HUGE emo/metal phase in middle school and so when he regresses, he becomes a moody 12 year old that knows everything)

🐺 Fujin thinks this headspace is adorable and it makes Nightwolf so pouty because psh, come on! He isn't some baby! >:/

🐺 Has this very certain jacket he wears when hes in that headspace and very specific makeup (cried the ONE time Fujin laughed, Fujin felt so terrible and offered to let himself get decked in emo just to make up for it)

🐺 Fujin normally watches him when he's small

🐺 Very rarely has a babysitter but if he did, it'd probably be his Momma or Auntie (they're all incredibly close and very supportive)

🐺 Very energetic toddler

🐺 I'm not exactly sure how his green spirit animals work (i don't have him as a playable character yet), but if he can summon them at will, this man's cuddling the bear

🐺 Has little toys he's made for himself, like a set of blocks and a wooden toy boat

🐺 Adores his hair brushed but you've gotta ask and you need to be close to him!!

🐺 Can and Will try to play with his ax (you gotta tell him it's not safe and he'll normally let it go)

🐺 Nature baby 100% of the way

🐺 Likes going on little walks and giving you pinecone or rocks he found cool

🐺 (^ You better keep them, he might cry if you try to get rid of them)

🐺 Likes sitting outside and just rumbling and tumbling in the grass

🐺 Adores bath time!!!

🐺 Will splash everywhere if he still has energy though

🐺 But if it's bathtime, he's normally pretty tuckered and mellowed out

🐺 Likes naptime on certain days, like when he's feeling sleepy

🐺 But will dodge it like a plague if he still wants to run around and have fun

🐺 Very good on the rules, normally always sticks to them

🐺 But does have hissy fits, especially if he has to go inside and doesn't wanna

🐺 Pouting, stomping, laying on the ground, he doesn't wanna go inside just yet!! >:(

🐺 If you let him throw his little hissy fit he'll eventually sit up and look at you like ‘🥺’ because now he thinks he's in trouble and doesn't wanna get punished

🐺 Just remind him that just because he lashed out doesn't make him naughty, and that he's a very good boy

🐺 If he's still a bit stubborn about going inside, remind him of bathtime and how cozy naptime is and that usually does the trick

🐺 If you don't like outside? He'll get really pouty, but won't force you to come cuddle him in the grass

🐺 Just watch him from the window, he should he okay

🐺 Or plan some fun arts and crafts inside, he likes those

🐺 Cuddles and storytime work too, n

🐺 I could see him asking a million and one questions about everything and anything

🐺 Not cause he wants to bug you, but because he likes to learn :3

🐺 Ugh, I could totally see him as that one kid that will bring bugs inside the house cause ‘They're cold!! 🥺’

🐺 If you like bugs, that's great!! You two get to make the bug feel very comfy until it has to go back outside

🐺 If you don't, he might pout a bit but is rather understanding

🐺 He'd rather make you happy than a bug, plus the bug can hurry itself ungrounded so he'll be okay in the end

🐺 Wants to help out with everything you do but is also too small to do anything and he'll watch over your shoulder and give advice

🐺 The advice is either surprisingly good or really really childish

🐺 ‘Can we add extra salt?’ The food taste better already

🐺 ‘Can we put in glitter to make it shiny?’ Erm, no kiddo, we gotta make sure it's still edible

🐺 Favorite little nicknames are Kidda, Bub, ‘Hun, Moony, Sunshine, Bug, Baby Bear

🐺 But any nickname will make him squirm happily and bkush

🐺 I'm not saying anything, but he'd make you a mud pie like Max from Max and Ruby and be SO proud of it!!

🐺 Just tell him it looks amazing!! But don't throw it out until he's big because he'll have the most destroyed face watching you attempt it throw it out

🐺 Doesn't watch many cartoons, but if you want him to stay inside so that his bath can fill or dinner will be ready in a few minutes, he'll watch some shows

🐺 Probably also a Studio Ghibli fan

🐺 (^ I'm projecting, his favorite movie is Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind)

🐺 If he regresses because of big negative feelings or scary, scary thoughts, he'll run to you and hide in your arms

🐺 He knows he's a pretty buff dude, but just letting him hurry his head in your shoulder while you scratch his scalp and rub his back really helps him

🐺 If he starts crying, kids his forehead and rock him gently

🐺 Man's been through a ton, he just wants someone there to be there and love him

🐺 Learnt of age regression through Fujin when he came to Fujin about his memories as a reverant and how he didn't know how to handle them

🐺 Maybe a wolf regressor but I dunno

🐺 I know one of his victories has him howling at the moon, so he'll do that and then giggle when you cross his arms

🐺 Not a chewer or a biter, but will sometimes knaw your arm or hand out of love, almost like he's giving you a kiss

🐺 (^ Will do this in his little headpace too, not just wolf)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I love Nightwolf, he's so Dad but even Dad's deserve a break (and I really need to buy MK11 Aftermath)

[Also I did get your second ask, and don't worry!! You asked anymousely!!]

#age regression #agere #sfw age regression #age regression headcanons #mortal kombat agere #sfw agere #age regressor #mk agere #mk11 headcanons #mk11 #mortal kombat 11 headcanons #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat #Little nightwolf #regressor nightwolf #nightwolf #mk nightwolf #nightwolf x reader

18 notes · View notes

kittythegengarmonarch · 2 years ago

Text

15 questions for 15 mutuals

One of my close friends (as well as mutuals) @cadaver-moss tagged me in this! Gracias mi amigo! Now it's my turn! ^^

(There are some questions that reveal a bit too much for me, so I will try my best to alter them.)

Are you named after anyone. I'd say there are 3 answers. Legal name I will change: Yes Real name I use today: Depends. It's a noun that I would describe myself, but in a different language. Also turns out, I learned about a year after I got the name, that the word comes from the name of a spirit! Persona's name: A grandmother's dog (she's a sweetheart)

When was the last time you cried. The last time I actually cried was during a meltdown. The last time I almost cried was when another close friend said he would block me if I sent him a clip of Toad's voice, and because he said that I had a shutdown (he knew what he did was wrong though, and luckily, we made up).

Do you have kids? My sona does (in reality they're my Gengar plushies), but irl, no. I don't plan to have coitus with anyone else in any way, shape or form. (Adopting or fostering kids though, I would say otherwise).

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Depends on my mood, really.

What sports do you play/have you played? Have I played? Kick ball! I made a homerun (after I slid) and ended up getting filled with energy and pride! ^^

What's the first thing you notice about other people? I honestly don't know. I have social anxiety, especially with most other teens (a reason why high school is very stressful for me) and I often prefer to be alone.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. Easy answer. The King's Game, SCP-5254, Squid Game and SCP-001(WTDB) are perfect examples of why I prefer happy endings, as they have caused me depression and sometimes paranoia. It wasn't pretty. (There is also more media like them that have caused me depression and/or paranoia.)

Any special talents? If drawing counts, yes. Other than that, if it counts, algebra, and most other academic activities.

Where were you born? My sona: Alola Me irl, an southeastern state in the US (Currently living somewhere else, and I will not say the name of either place)

What are your hobbies? Drawing, surfing the net, watching YouTube, napping, shaking the lamb sauce (don't ask. It's a secret), listening to music, car rides (at times), word searches, and other things that are out of my mind right now.

Do you have any pets? The namesake of my sona, Kitty, and Highly [Maybe Confused]. There are some pictures I took of them recently at the bottom of the post. Check out other videos on Tumblr to check them out. Update: We got another bulldog, and his name is Uhtred.

How tall are you? What's 3^4-36+9x2+0? That's your answer. (And no, it's not a _'_ deal)

Favorite subject in school? Art. Other than art, math.

Dream job? Character designer, like James Turner and Ken Sugimori, or an illustrator, like Anne Fitzgerald. Or a storyboard artist.

Eye color? Go outside, and stare at a tree trunk. If not, stare at my dog.

Highly is the tired one(left), and Kitty is the desperate one(right). Update: The puppy below is Uhtred.

I'll tag @liamthemarowak @ghos-tea @tiny-brain @destinylightsup-2006 @leothewtf @andythepurplebird2k5 @alter-ego-cole @boongusbongus and @artsymii

(As it's most likely required. Lmao)

#mutuals #tag #You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I won't force you.

66 notes · View notes

twostepstyless · 5 months ago

Text

Okay bestie nel @lonelycowgirls got me inspired. Like her I’ve had 7 months of fun and living my best life and also a lot of change of leaving a job and starting a new one (which as an aside I’ve officially passed my probationary period, ya girlies employed employed in something she genuinely loves and wants to do) so I need to come back to myself and I’ve currently got the feeling that I’m not spending my time away from work as well as I could be. So here’s some goals and a lot of waffle to go alongside them for the next 5 months for me to shoot for!

1. Do some conscious, meaningful movement every day, whether that’s a hot girl walk, the slow running club I’m doing with some of my girlies, a swim, a class, cycle, yoga flow, a fucking skipping rope, anything, just meaningful movement. I’ve went from a fairly active job to a mostly inactive role and I am feeling the difference.

2. Stop dipping into my savings. My savings are in a fairly healthy manner and I’m good with my income but I’m getting awfully good at dipping a quick wee 30 quid here and another wee 50 quid there and I’m not helping myself by doing that.

3. Be creative for me again. I’ve been in the trenches of the most horrendous creative block I’ve suffered through since I finished art school during covid. By the end of the year I’d like to have done a few things just to feel that spark again. Those include but not limited or restricted to, finishing at least one painting, do at least one of the embroidery projects I want to do, write something for here?? I’m not even overly arsed about what I’m doing or the final outcome really, I just need to do something with my hands that isn’t for my job.

4. Develop more meaningful connections. This doesn’t have to be romantic, but fuck me I need to talk to more people or develop my relationships with the people I do talk to just now.

5. Get back into language learning. I have been trying to learn Italian well since I was probably about 16, I’m now 27 swiftly approaching 28 and I’m still not overly thrilled with my progress but I bloody enjoy doing it so why can’t I just commit to it. My relationship with Duolingo is frosty right now and I’d like to thaw that out!

6. Be consistent with what I’m putting in my body. Food is a hard topic for a lot of people myself included but I know I need to be more consistent with what I’m putting in my body. I hate the term cheat day but it’s the only phrase I can think of that describes the situation. I’m not a person who can have a “cheat day” because it spirals into cheat week cheat month cheat multiple months and then I just get fucked off with myself. I’m team “everything in moderation” but I need to get better at balancing the moderation bit. I don’t even mean only food as being consistent with what I’m putting in my body either. My water intake while I’m at work is 10/10 I knock that shit out of the park, the second I come home and over the weekend, you’d think I’d have never heard of water and then I feel shite cause I’ve actively dehydrated myself, so I’m actively trying to sort that out.

7. This one is so stupid lmao but I think there’s a lot of value in seemingly simple or easy goals to tick off. Get a new hairdresser. My current one loudly complains about cutting my hair because it’s so long and like girlie I’m paying you? So I’m over that and I want someone fresh to let at my locks

8. And the big one that’s been a goal all year but I’ve just not conquered yet. I’d like to make moves to conquer my driving anxiety. I feel like I’ve spoke about this briefly in the past. I am a good driver and I’m confident driving places I know. However, I am terrified of going anywhere outside that. It takes a lot of pushing myself to get on the motorway and once I’m on the motorway I’m fine. It’s coming off and going somewhere new where I don’t know exits etc or all of it really and I know in my heart of hearts I’ll be fine and can figure it out but I just can’t get myself over the fear to actively do it. So I’d love to make some good progress to tackle that before the year is up.

#I’d love to hear anyone else’s goals whether they’re big goals or wee silly ones!#hoping posting this will help me hold myself to account

7 notes · View notes

my-castles-crumbling · 5 months ago

Note

Hi Cas!!!

Recently i wrote a poem and decided I loved it and send you an ask with it 2 days ago but i think it got lost or smth.

Little backstory here so I live in a family full of artists and very creative people so sharing my work always made me self concious since I always compared my work with theirs. Turns out I also have a problem with openly sharring my work with others which is a bit of a problem considering I need to do share my work for school. Because of that I've decided to share my poem with someone cause I'm really proud of it but I also want someone to tell me their honest opinion/feedback. So here it is I guess??? Also english is not my first language so sorry if there s any mistakes 🦖

Earth breaking beneth my feet

Hands holding my arms

While pushing me down

Sinking into the ground

Divine paintings flashing before my mind

Their meanings going up my mouth

Watching me choke down all the noble words

Blocking their way out

Only to laugh

As the Devil listens to all the broken sounds

Coming from my eyes

Crimson tears staining my cheeks

Honey dripping from my lips

Straight into a vase near my feet

Angles are gathering the golden liquid

Collectiong memories I missed

Reminding me things I did

That are straining my guilt

People I left forgoten

Are sitting faceless

Waiting for my jugement

God is listening to everyone

Except for me

As I bleed out on a light floor in front of him

Staining red everything I could see

While room fillds with blood

That's comimg from my wounded heart

Drowning me

Ending my tortures

While our outstanding preformance goes on

The capitol's laughing

The kids are dying

But why do I care?

About them when I'm away

Maybe these scary meaningfull portraits

Maybe paintings that left me empty

Are happening somewhere on Earth

Someones mother is dying

But all we do is drink honey

Someones child is fighting

But all we do is play a song

Song of Army Dreamers

And say 'scary things happened years back'

While ignoring the fact

That those things are also happening now

Somehow I made a poem about war with my religious trauma, Kate Bush reference and few Crimson Rivers references. Thats cute. When im rereading it now it seems a bit silly and kinda looks like i tried using 'big words' but i still love it.

Also the way you ate up last Caledenstine(HOW TO WRITE THAT????😭) chapter??? Ate and left no crumbs? Yessir. I support Regs rights and wrongs even if his wrongs are treaky(?) sometimes and make me want to hit him with a paper (just jk i would probably hug him and then make him some good soup)

Losts of love for you and your wife and your cat(s) (pretty sure you have a cat or two but maybe im mixing people???? Prolly should go to sleep but this was more important for me?????) Hope your sleep shedule is better then the rests of the fandom tho you are a teacher, an ao3 writer and a trumble user so its probably not the best while school year but still! 💃All the best ❤️

Hi hon!!! Your original ask was actually next on my list lol but I'm responding to this one because you added some things.

Damn, that ending though.

And say 'scary things happened years back' While ignoring the fact That those things are also happening now

This is SO real, and so poignant. You absolutely should share this with others, it's a very powerful poem. I love the imagery you have throughout. Please don't compare your work to others- art is supposed to be unique, you know?

hahah yeah Reg is in his Rep Era rn I feel. I'll not elaborate more.

My sleep schedule is...well it's 12:30am and I am not planning on sleeping for a while, as I need to edit and then post the next chapter. By the time this ask is posted (I'm scheduling it) the next chapter should be out! yay, summer?

Sending you all the love!

#ask #asks #ask cas

11 notes · View notes

artistnerd24 · 8 months ago

Note

Sending this to people in the fandom i appreciate....... Thank you for all you've done for this community. Thank you for helping me stay positive and making me smile with your posts and reblogs and comments. I appreciate you being in this fandom and I understand if you're no longer able to be with the circumstances, but I enjoyed your company on the ride. I wish you all the best, regardless of what you do. Please know you're loved and appreciated. Remember to drink water and do what makes you happy. <3

Awwwwww Roseyyyyyy 😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHY ARE MY MUTUALS ALL SO SWEET, I DONT DESERVE YOU GUYS 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

You’ve and all of my moots been the exact same thing to me, beams of sunshine that still gave me hope in the fandom and even though we had just suffered a great loss, seeing you guys and the whole fandom being there for each other made me realize how strong this community is and that there will always be hope no matter what goes wrong :3

Tbh, I am just sad now but I don’t think I’m planning on leaving yet. Hiatus probably, but permanently leaving? I don’t know if I can force myself too. As long as there are the creators that I grew to love over this past year, I’ll still stick around. Besides, after Jaiden, Tina became my main (she never logs on though now so that’s why I’ve been just migrating around and watches different POVs) so as long as she’s on, I’m definitely on, and if she leaves, I have some backups, and my two babies were and have always been Chayanne and Empanada, so as long as Empanada is around, I’m not leaving my baby (I’ll talk about Chayanne in a later post but I’m still just processing what’s next 😅). Plus, fed lore and a bunch of other lore has now grabbed me and will never let me go, and I’m still a fan of other streamers and still have animatic ideas I never got around to cause of continuous art block :) All in all, I don’t think I’m going to ever completely leave, this fandom has helped me out through so much and especially my amazing moots like you so until everyone is gone and moved on, I think I’ll stick around from time to time :D

However this sucks that this happened literally 2 days before my one year anniversary of joining the fandom 😭 (in YT though, qsmpblr was in December so that’ll be a different celebration :D)

Again though, thank you so much for the message Rosey, it really made me smile. I think I’ll just watch some funny videos before going to bed and then sleep and hope that I won’t be a crybaby tomorrow at school and that I can process everything and figure out what to do next :D

Also LOOK I TRY TO DRINK WATER, I REALLY DO, BUT I DONT KNOW WHY MY PROCRASTINATIN BRAIN ALWAYS ENDS UP WITH ME ONLY DRINKING LIKE 2 GLASSES A DAY, I KNOW ITS UNHEALTHY BUT MY BRAIN ALWAYS THINKS ITS BORING AND WANTS TO MOVE ON, I DONT UNDERSTAND IT

#mutuals #❤️❤️❤️#depression central rn #qsmp

7 notes · View notes

mellowwhumps · 6 months ago

Text

off-white; sunlight

OCs: Ida, Yuuto (by @qiuthewhumps / @lemlem21) — blogger x art dealer AU

no i did not say i was going to post this a week ago. this isn’t whump, by the way! just an idato au that kinda spiralled into this oneshot!! i liked it so i’ve decided to post it here ^^ happy reading the first and only 2k+ words i will reach

———☆———

He is a storyteller.

And maybe he isn’t, just there to spread opinions on some dumb blog he made a few years ago, the moment he left all those cram schools and graduated. He comes up with a plot, something to honor or critique as wanted. It’s a simple thing, really, one he does as a hobby. The few people he was followed by were dedicated to his cause, giving their own take after his. It was fine.

The nearest museum to his rented room advertises a new exhibit, people flocking by the masses to the location, merely a small ways away from the nearest train station. It’s free. He laughs, because nothing can be free and good at the same time.

He’s not wrong. All the exhibits are what he calls nothing but a mess of color. There is no story to be told in lines or blocks or dots, in his opinion, but his fans were likely waiting for his input. What was he to say? Search up the artist and it’s just some rich guy probably wanting to make a dime off others like them.

He scoffs. Beside him, a lone person makes a small noise, something between a laugh and a sigh. He doesn’t recall the man approaching at all; silently, he curses his half-functional hearing.

To him, humans are just as fascinating as art. Some amalgamation of all the things they’ve been through, each small thing shaping them into who they are now. The person beside him doesn’t scream of money or formality, yet sophisticated enough to look on without seeming too judgemental. Now, this he finds more interesting than the painting in front of him.

“Don’t get it either, do you?” The man smiles, a small quirk of his mouth.

“It’s a blue square. There’s nothing but a blue square and some errant strokes. I don’t see how this would interest anyone.”

“Hm. Well, maybe look at it this way…” The man holds his arms in front of him, then makes a tilting motion. “A courtyard, you see? Perhaps the three lines behind represent a house.”

He tilts his head to the side, angling it ever so slightly. When the man states it like that, it’s hard not to imagine the scene. The blue, vibrant sky, idyllic, a home on top of a hill. It’s not forced. He can truly see it.

“There, you see? Hasty smears by the corner. The flick of an artist’s hand. People, I think, are rushing around. Playing.” He hesitates, studying the image for another while before continuing. “A third character by the corner. Just beside the house.”

“An interesting interpretation.”

“I pride myself on that, thank you.”

Nobody else comes close to the exhibit, taking one quick glance and moving away. They, on the other hand, talk for a long, long time. Then another, then another.

It’s quite a large exhibition. Once, he would have walked away without any conclusion. Now, his mind weaves tales of tragedy, trials and emotion, together with this stranger that no longer was. Sometimes, they disagree, some petty conflict ending in laughter and smiles. Sometimes he can do nothing but nod his head in silence.

They grab a small drink from the local cafe he frequents as some horrible replacement for lunch before immediately returning, flitting from artwork to artwork.

Dawn turns to dusk. He turns for a moment to glance at the painting they met in front of, and when he looks back, the presence by his side is gone.

In all that enjoyment, he hadn’t even thought of asking for a name.

——————

His recent posts gain traction. He appears on some small local news site for his skillfully interpretative works on the new exhibition, and has to send a message to tell them not to give him sole credit. To whom else, they ask, and he hesitates before saying that he doesn’t know.

There is a story behind every person, pieces of a puzzle to be fitted together in an imperfect image. He wants to figure it out. He wants to know who to give credit to.

The man, he learns, is Yuuto Kikuchi.

There are no records of his past to be found online, merely some odd, fragmented website that details him as an art dealer’s assistant. Too many missing details. Well, he was never someone to source his details secondhand.

Tomorrow, he arrives at the museum, some odd feeling compelling his legs to move. He spots a certain man lurking alone by a painting, lost in thought, and promptly realises all too drastically that he had looked forward to another meeting.

Just like yesterday, he positions himself by the man’s side. He knows he is seen, from the way the other shifts a little to the right to make space for him. The man called Yuuto asks, “What do you think?”

For once, he knows what to say. It’s like water, the way his words flow, smooth as the blue of that unremarkably memorable square. Yuuto stands in silence, but when he finally turns away from the painting to check on him, there’s a glint in his eyes that Ida doesn’t ever recall seeing yesterday.

Yuuto speaks, replying, repeat. They throw words back and forth, and regardless of that silence he recognizes that he must have passed some sort of test. It’s a quaint feeling, a strange sort of adrenaline.

They head to the same cafe after. He encourages the other to at least get something filling, and in return gets his entire bill paid for after a full meal of sandwiches, enough for the both of them.

The trip back, he gathers the courage to ask about his job. Yuuto replies, “You know, don’t you?”

The man smiles.

He wants to say anything at all. There’s more. There’s always more.

“What’s your name?” Yuuto asks. He hesitates, because he knows Yuuto has the answers too. Yet so it is, and so it is.

“Ida. Seong Ida, but skip the surname.”

The man smiles. He knows he’s caught, even if he doesn’t know how. Still, Yuuto says, “Nice to meet you, Ida,” and the conversation ends at that. In technicality, he still shouldn’t have the other’s name.

Dawn turns to dusk. They talk for the whole day. The evening crowd, now off work, floods into the museum. When he pushes forward and breaks through the masses, Yuuto is gone.

——————

The amount of followers Ida has is officially more than a thousand, comments flooding in like yesterday’s rush hour. He can’t head to the museum today, because like any other non-filthy-rich person trying to survive in this economy, he has to work sometimes.

Ida spends his lunch break scouring the web for more articles. Another name drop.

Mrs. Salomea Nowak. Foreigner. Widowed. Supposedly living alone, though he knows where to check for the lie to break through.

Dawn, dusk, dawn. He doesn’t sleep very well.

——————

“You haven’t slept well,” Yuuto says. Ida does not respond, yawning and attempting to blink away sleep.

“Mmm.”

“Me too.”

The both of them are less tense than usual today, he notes. The atmosphere is significantly lighter. More noticeably, Yuuto doesn’t speak in questions. It makes all the difference. He doesn’t want to break that fragile peace, so he turns to the painting and makes some offhanded, haughty remark, inspired by one stray opinion on his posts.

He isn’t expecting Yuuto to laugh.

It starts small. A small bubble of noise escapes his lips, then it escalates, until at last he’s wheezing and gasping for air, eyes crinkled in such a genuine way Ida thinks only Yuuto could pull it off. He finds himself laughing, too.

The joke wasn’t even that funny.

There’s a weird turning in his chest, a sharp pang of…something. What exactly, he can’t quite figure.

Dawn. They walk around the museum. They’re not even half done with what this exhibition has to offer, lurking around the same general area. He never gets tired of it, and if Yuuto does, he doesn’t notice. Neither of them mind.

Afternoon. Cafe. The barista has memorized their orders, apologising for a certain mix-up on their first arrival here. Yuuto tips them in return. He attempts to do the same, only to find the money in his pocket when they leave. They chat all the way back.

Ida notices the way their footsteps sync, the same leg first. Yuuto’s looking somewhere else. If he catches the quickening of their pace, he doesn’t point it out.

Dusk.

“Where do you always go?” Ida asks, much too calm to mind his words. The apprehensive atmosphere returns, covering them like a thick blanket.

Cautiously. “Home.”

Curiously. “Where?”

”You wouldn’t know.”

The conversation ends there. At least, it’s meant to. He messes it up, no doubt.

“Salomea, right? Your mother. Foster.”

Silence.

“Yes. But you never wanted to ask me that, did you?” Questions, albeit as neutral as usual. Not angry, not disappointed, nothing.

Again. They’re all the way back at the beginning. The man’s expression is unreadable. The museum isn’t quiet, but in their little bubble, it was always the two of them. It was always the two of them. Wasn’t it?

“If you have nothing else to say, I’ll be leaving.” He smiles. It’s genuine. Ida sees the glint of his eyes.

He’s unsure, now.

Nothing interrupts them. Not a crowd, or some circumstance, or a turn of the head. Instead, Ida watches him get further and further away until he’s gone, disappearing somewhere he wouldn’t know.

——————

“Do you think it ended happily?” They’re back at the painting of that blue square. Back to normal. Ida no longer needs to tilt his head to see the image.

“What makes you say that?” The man called Yuuto asks.

“I don’t think the brushstrokes are rushed because they’re happy. I think something happened. A hint of a different hue there, see? A small splatter, not very notable in such a large piece, but they’re present.”

“Huh. I never noticed that.” There’s an odd tone in his voice. “But aren’t those people at the bottom of the hill still having fun? The extra color doesn’t overwhelm anything. The majority of it is still blue.”

“Smudged. The paint is smudged. Judging by this artist, I don’t think it’s unintentional.” There’s something wrong with this painting, looking at it for the umpteenth time. At first glance, unremarkable. On inspection, a story.

Ida is a storyteller. What happens when the story isn’t his to tell? The man called Yuuto is staring at her, words on his lips, unsaid.

He doesn’t want to argue. Not about this image. Not when they already agreed that it was a happy little image, and that was that. The strange feeling strikes him again, choking and saccharine sweet. It’s wrong. There’s something more, a lost piece of the puzzle.

They move on, anyway.

In the cafe, the coffee tastes more bitter than usual. They chat all the way back, talking about not-quite everything under the sun. Halfway back, a bout of heavy rain begins and they run to the nearest shelter, otherwise known as a museum.

Dusk comes. It’s fine, because the entire thing is a cycle and he could go at it forever, this back and forth of lighthearted banter and chit-chat. When the stranger leaves, it’s normal, because there was never anything wrong about that.

——————

He walks past the cafe on his way home. The silhouettes of yesterdays echo in the closed shop like a painting in motion, unreachable, unreachable.

A poster is plastered on the nearby lamppost, the exact direction he remembers the man looking at. It’s an advertisement for the new exhibit. Tomorrow was the last day, ending off with an auction. An auction of everything that was his world for the past five days, everything under the sun. How did time pass so quickly? Leaps and bursts, perhaps, but fast nonetheless.

He doesn’t sleep. Dawn arrives. He grabs a small wad of cash and runs to the museum, praying it’s enough.

——————

It isn’t enough, of course. Ida takes the first bid to just slightly more than a thousand; it ends in the millions. Nobody cared about it before. Nobody cared about that blue square and some errant strokes, and still it goes to the man with the most money. If the price of art was decided by cash, why make art at all?

His blog followers would agree. Yuuto might agree. He wouldn’t know.

He stays for a particularly desperate man who does end up getting the final bid on another work, not particularly high but instead just the bare minimum to deter others. He admires the passion, perhaps, or simply the ability to try harder.

He should have tried harder.

Anything after that doesn’t interest him. He leaves.

——————

There’s nothing in the museum.

Which is an exaggeration, of course. There are still paintings. There are still people. But where the exhibit was, there remains pristine white walls. Too perfect.

He wanders aimlessly. Navigates the rope barriers, first floor, second floor, last floor. No sign of the man he’d spent so much time with, gone like the paintings.

Walking turns into a brisk walk, then to a full-on dash. Out of the museum, into the cafe, barely registering the bell chiming to signal his arrival. Their usual table is filled by someone else. He takes a seat and waits.

The barista asks where his friend is and whether they should prepare the usual order. Inexplicably, he says yes.

That’s when Ida shatters.

The paintings he likes don’t disappear. Brushstrokes don’t just run away, forever stationary. That’s why he likes them, precisely because they are still images. Paintings don’t change, merely interpretations.

But he did, didn’t he? He’s not the shell of yesteryear, staring at paintings just to judge them objectively.

He knows what that feeling is now. Longing. There is no finality in all this, no entry for him to write about. He doesn’t even know the other’s contact.

It was always going to end. No matter how he looks at it, they are two strangers, stragglers of a world unwelcome.

——————

His boss asks why he skipped work. Not-Ida ceases waiting around and tries to go back to his usual life, away from the nearly five thousand milestone of followers. What use is it without credit?

——————

There is a package by his doorstep and he nearly trips over it on his way in, barely paying attention to the floor. Long, thin. When he unwraps it, it’s a roll of blue.

The painting is a miniature version, small enough to fit on the walls of his room, an accurate replica, albeit with duller colors.

He hesitates. There’s something wrong with that statement.

It’s not a false painting, he abruptly concludes. The fading seems so natural it can’t possibly be anything but the real thing. He turns it over, and just as expected, there’s a signature.

S. Nowak.

Seong Ida is not a storyteller. He is a blogger, an art connoisseur, a wanderer, a caged bird. Most importantly, he is a person who won’t stand for an incomplete tale. They will meet again, he swears. There will be no more rhetorical questions, no more formality, nothing less of the truth.

——————

small analysis

#mellowwhumps #i should not be using that tag but eh it’s ocs who cares #i need to study them under a microscope #GODDDD i love this piece there’s so much to unpack #silly little symbolisms and changes my beloved in writing #writing

6 notes · View notes