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m1dn1ght-r0t · 1 month ago

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Tethered by Fate [pt. 1]

Yandere! superhero! childhood friend x civilian! fem reader

Synopsis: A seemingly innocent act of kindness from you sets off a chain of events that will irrevocably alter the course of your life. TW: bullying (not towards reader), obsessive & delusional behavior, murder (of a side char), descriptions of gore, stalking, mans is an unreliable narrator, eventual smut in pt.2 (18+, when both are adults ofc) A/N: pt.1 is mainly setting up the scene and tracing the root of his obsession through the years, so apologies if it's a little slow and long-winded. the juicier parts and climax will be featured in pt 2 (which i'm currently working on)!! Also in this universe, the red string that connects soulmates is a visible thread that everyone can see, so you'll know who is/isn't your soulmate.

You wonder if things could've gone differently.

If only you hadn't befriended him. If only you had spoken up and defended him when it mattered. If only you hadn't distanced yourself. If only you'd noticed the glaring signs, bold and bright as red ink. If only you'd been more vigilant. If only you'd skipped the shortcut route home. If only you hadn't been so trusting as to invite him inside. If only you'd been firmer with your no's and pushed back harder...

... a million iterations of what ifs circulate your mind. But none of them would've mattered.

Try as you might to conjure up fantasies to hide yourself away and find solace in, the wretched outcome remains: your invisible shackles will forever bind you to the man who tore apart and rewrote fate itself. The one who single-handedly destroyed your life.

Once he decided you were his—that you belonged together across every universe: past, present, future, alternate—no sacred verses etched in scripture, no divine prophecies, no eternal threads could ever stand in his way.

"Honey, don't cry. The kids will love you for you. You're bright, amazing, and such a good boy. Trust me, they'll open up to you, and you'll all be best buddies in no time!"

... was what your childhood friend's mom had softly cooed into his ear when he came home from school one afternoon, bawling, thick snot running down his nose.

For a middle schooler, things like reputation, fitting in, and having friends mattered a great deal. So for him to fail so miserably in all departments meant he was truly at the bottom of the food chain.

A head shorter than most of his peers, who were eagerly speculating about whose powers would manifest first, he became an easy target. His tiny, stick-thin stature made him the subject of ridicule, with some kids sneering that standing too close to him might infect them with some “powerless disease”. Ignoring him wasn’t enough—they made sure he knew exactly where he stood: nowhere.

He'd begged his mom to let him change schools (again), but she simply shooed him away, insisting that he just needed time to adjust to his new environment.

What he failed to mention were the key details—his lunch money being stolen every day, his gym uniform constantly soiled in dirty mop water, his desk decorated in insults scribbled in Sharpie, and the ugly yellow-and-purple bruises marring his skin. How could he possibly tell her? He knew his poor mother wouldn't be able to handle such distressing news or fathom that her precious baby boy was being bullied.

And so, he bided his time and suffered in silence, growing more isolated with each passing day—worn down bit by bit until he started to believe he truly was nothing more than a scrawny, useless, four-eyed freak.

That was until... you came along.

From the moment you enrolled at his school, you were loved by everyone. It was hard not to be, with your easygoing and friendly demeanor.

Imagine his surprise when you sat next to him in Math class. Never mind the fact that it was the only available seat, but does that really matter? To make it even sweeter, you said hi to him first. Him. Of all people!

Sure, maybe it was just a segue to ask to borrow a pen. But you didn't have to say hi to him, and there were plenty other classmates you could've asked. Didn't you know you were committing social suicide by talking to him?

Maybe you hadn't gotten the memo that he was the grade's biggest loser, the one everyone oscillated between taunting or ignoring. Maybe it was all part of some cruel joke he wasn't privy to.

Or maybe... you genuinely wanted to talk to him.

That latter possibility was confirmed when, for the rest of the year, you kept sitting next to him in class. Every. Single. Time. Willingly. A conscious choice you made. You began greeting him by name—wait, you actually knew his name?—and sharing whatever snack you brought that day.

He found himself looking forward to seeing you, to sharing brief moments of laughter, to basking in your comforting company. Piece by piece, his defenses chipped away. While he shrouded every room in a blanket of gloom, your presence was as radiant as the rising sun, your pretty smile blinding him with the warm, golden rays that eventually filtered through the broken walls he had built up.

Suddenly, the suffering he endured all those years didn't matter. None of it mattered, because it all led to this treasured moment of meeting you.

For once in his otherwise shitty childhood, he had someone to call a friend. A friend who made his heart race so fast it felt like it might leap out, his skin tingle with goosebumps, and his cheeks warm with a deep blush. As incoherent and messy as it was to make sense of his own feelings, one thing was certain to him—you were his destined soulmate.

But with that realization came the bitter truth: life didn't always have your best interests at heart. For this perfect happily-ever-after he dreamed of was shattered by the harsh reality he couldn't bear to face—

His red thread didn't connect to yours, and neither did yours to his.

He could see it, the string that should have bound you together. But it remained stubbornly absent, yours and his leading elsewhere—to other people—like a mocking, cruel reminder of what could never be.

By high school, he barely saw you anymore. Granted, you didn’t have any classes together, and with senior year meant more work and less spare time. But he’d hoped you’d at least make some effort to continue your after school hangouts or talk during the in-between moments. Wasn’t that what friends did?

Except, whenever he bumped into you—whether in the hallways, at the front gate, in the cafeteria, or by the convenient store both of you frequented—you didn’t even offer him a "hi" back when he called out your name. Nor did you flash that beaming smile you used to send his way.

In fact, save for the fleeting glance you’d graciously deign him every now and then—only to quickly retreat your eyes to safer territory—you acted as if he didn’t even exist.

Oh.

Somehow, that hurt more than—get out of the fucking way, freak—being haphazardly shoved into the lockers and kneed in the ribs ever could. From his crumpled position on the ground, he searched pitifully for your gaze in the sea of mindless students traversing the hall, hoping you’d cast him a lifeline. Any lifeline he can latch onto to prove he was still worth acknowledging.

It was so brief that anyone else would've glossed over it. But he knew that look; he wasn’t new to this. The message was so pathetically obvious you might as well have shouted it from the rooftops.

You looked at him like he was someone you didn’t want to be associated with, someone you were embarrassed by, someone you wanted to avoid—like he was some shit stain stuck to the bottom of your shoe, waiting to be scraped off.

It was a visceral image, seared into every ridge and groove of his mind, playing on an endless loop—each repetition feeling like you had wrenched a fist into his chest, squeezing his heart tighter and tighter until all blood flow ceased.

Slowly but surely, you were beginning to morph into the faceless monsters who’d made his life a living hell.

Nononono. Sweet, lovely you couldn’t possibly. Surely not.

Clutching his snapped-in-half glasses, fat tears brimming in his eyes, he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around your sudden change in behavior. What went wrong? Did he do something wrong? Was it because he’d finally confessed to having a crush on you?

If you were just going to reject him and toss him aside, why talk to him in the first place? Why string him along and give him false hope? Unless... unless you were playing hard to get.

Yes, that must be it. That seemed like the most plausible explanation.

After all, you secretly liked him too, didn’t you? You felt the same soulmate bond he felt so deeply in his bones too, right? Suffice it to say, once this thought took root—an all-consuming unease that sat heavy in the pit of his stomach, born from his desperation to prove his belief true—it quickly spiraled into a cancerous obsession.

He shadowed you everywhere. Memorized your schedule and lingered in spots you were most likely to pass. It was no coincidence, then, that every time you rounded the corner, he was somehow there. Or when you lined up for food during lunch, he was always standing right behind you. At the library? You can bet he was at the same row, pretending to check out books he didn’t care about.

It was during one of these moments, in the midst of trying to catch another fleeting glimpse of you, that he overheard something that would cement his spiral further. You were laughing with your friends near the lockers, unaware that he was standing just far enough to hear every word.

"Sooooo, any thoughts on who your red thread connects to?" the whiniest of your girlfriends giggled.

Me. Who else would it be?

He’d expected you to say something casual, or even tease them, but instead, you spoke without hesitation. "Well, I'm hoping it's someone like Zenith."

His heart dropped into his stomach. That... up-and-coming superhero?

A chorus of "booooring", "you're literally like every other bitch," "can you get any more basic?" erupted from your posse. For once, he actually agreed with them.

You let out a carefree laugh—god, even your laugh sounded ethereal. "Nah, hear me out. He's strong, brave, and has a literal heart of gold. That's the holy trinity right there. Heard he stopped some major armed robbery last week. And he's only 24!"

"Yeah, and? So is Blaze."

"Why are you looking at me all crazy, like I just pitched your dad or something?" you playfully scoffed. "C'mon. I mean, have you seen those muscles on Zenith? And he's tall..."

It was stab after stab. Perhaps because Zenith was close in age to all of you that the jealousy in him amplified tenfold. The hero's popularity was unmatched, and it seemed like everyone couldn’t stop talking about how perfect he was.

The idea that you—you—might be thinking about him like that, the way others fawned over him, made him want to throw up.

He wasn’t like that. Not strong, not charming, not good enough.

Of course, that was it.

He was just... not what you wanted. He couldn’t measure up to someone like that. That was why you avoided him, why you wouldn’t acknowledge him anymore. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. Or that you didn’t believe he was your soulmate. No, it was that he didn’t fit the ideal you had in your head. He wasn’t the hero you were dreaming of.

The curiosity that had initially taken hold mutated exponentially, growing into a festering itch he couldn’t ignore. You were the itch, burrowing under his skin, making bile churn in his gut, his insides writhing like a breeding ground for parasites.

He staggered to the bathroom, barely able to keep himself upright as nausea clawed at his throat. Slamming the stall door behind him, he doubled over the sink, dry heaving into the basin. The bile didn’t come, but the suffocating pressure in his chest wouldn’t let up.

His breaths came in shallow, panicked bursts as his trembling hands tore at his neck, nails raking deeper and deeper into his skin until blood welled beneath his fingertips. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't—

When he finally forced himself to look up, his reflection in the mirror seemed almost unrecognizable.

The sink shook beneath his grip, a low, shuddering rattle that reverberated through the tiled walls.

And then, with a sharp, earsplitting crack, the mirror shattered into a thousand jagged fragments. Overhead, the light bulbs exploded in rapid succession, sending tiny shards of glass cascading down like rain.

Everything around him fell eerily still. The ringing noises in his head drained into silence, leaving only the sound of his own labored breaths.

In and out. In and out.

As he stared at his broken reflection, bloodied fingers trembling against the sink edge, his eyes flickered a deep, vivid red.

It was like a fog had lifted from his mind.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

~ Good evening. We bring you shocking and tragic news tonight. Beloved superhero Zenith, a symbol of hope and strength to many, was found dead late last night in an alleyway on Broad Street. At just 34 years old and at the peak of his career, his passing has sent shockwaves through the nation.

A passerby discovered his body, which authorities report was severely mutilated, with deep lacerations rendering him almost unrecognizable. Forensics have confirmed he was decapitated, though the full autopsy results are still pending. As investigators work to piece together the circumstances of his death, the burning question on everyone's mind remains: was this a case of suicide, or a brutal, targeted murder?

If it was murder, the world is left wondering—who could commit such a heinous act against one of our greatest heroes? We’ll continue to provide updates as more information comes to light. For now, our thoughts and prayers are with— "Jesus, that's fucking gruesome," your fiancé interrupts the TV broadcast, the sound of the news anchor’s voice muffling as he slides beside you on the couch. He balances a plate of heated lasagna in one hand and hands it to you.

"Thanks," you murmur, the warmth of the plate grounding you momentarily as you take it. Your gaze remains fixed on the TV, the harrowing details of Zenith's death replaying in your head.

"It's honestly so crazy, really," A pause, your voice quieter. "I mean, I can't believe it. He was so young."

"I'm more surprised he didn't survive the fight, for someone his caliber," he replies, taking a bite of his own lasagna. His nonchalance contrasts sharply with the knot of unease forming in your stomach.

"You think it’s a murder?" You glance at him sideways.

"And you don’t?"

"Well..." You hesitate, shifting the plate in your lap. "I do, I guess. With injuries that bad, it couldn’t have possibly been a suicide. It’s just... so sad. And I won’t lie, if someone like Zenith can die like that, meaning there’s someone out there more powerful, more dangerous, roaming our streets..." You trail off, absently twirling your fork in the pasta. "I don’t know how safe I feel."

Your fiancé hums thoughtfully, then leans back against the couch. "Well, there’s always that other hero our age. He’s quite popular now, isn’t he? I’ve seen him all over my feed. Twitter, TikTok, billboards, Youtube ads—fucking hell, it’s getting to be too much, honestly."

The mention of your old classmate's superhero alias pulls at something uncomfortable, buried deep. You tense slightly, fingers curling around the plate. "Can you blame them?" you manage, forcing a casual shrug. "The world loves to fixate on the next hot thing."

"Wait, didn’t you two go to school together? How was he like back then?"

Your stomach twists. "Oh yeah... we did," gaze suddenly focused on your lasagna as if it holds all the answers in the world. Your silence afterward feels louder than it should.

Thankfully, your fiancé doesn’t seem to notice your lack of response to his question. He mistakes your discomfort for grief over Zenith, not the weight of old memories—flashes of your classmate's persistent confession, of clinging to you everywhere—crawling their way to the surface.

He places a comforting hand on your knee. "Don’t worry, I’ll be here to protect you," he says with a wink.

At that, you snort, the tension breaking just slightly. "Pfft, you? And what can you do, huh?"

"Hey! I’m very strong, thank you very much," he protests, flexing his biceps dramatically. Before you can respond, he lunges forward, his fingers digging into your sides with an attack of tickles.

"H-hey! Ahaahaha! S-stop it!" you gasp, squirming beneath his playful attack.

You both tumble into a heap on the couch, breathless and laughing. You collapse onto his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as his arms wrap loosely around your waist.

For a moment, the world feels lighter. Closing your eyes, you intertwine your fingers with his, the soft red string looped around your pinky tangling neatly with his. The faint connection hums warmly, a quiet reassurance against the discomfort tucked in the corners of your mind.

"I love you," you whisper, though something inside you feels unmoored.

He squeezes your hand gently. "I love you too."

As you lie there and the buzz of the TV fades into the background, the heaviness in your chest remains. Zenith's death. Your former classmate. The memories you try so hard to suppress. They linger, like shadows that no amount of warmth can fully dispel.

~ You're not sure why you decide to take a different route home from work this time, but you do.

Perhaps it's the paranoia creeping in. First, there's the unsettling fact that the killer responsible for Zenith's death is still at large, which is hardly reassuring for a normal civilian like you. Then there's the chilling sensation you've been experiencing for the past two weeks, a feeling you just can't shake, like someone's watching you.

Your fiancé was quick to rationalize it, insisting that the latter might simply be your fear projected from the former playing tricks on you. But that doesn’t change how real and invasive it feels. It's as if unseen eyes are salaciously snaking up and down your body, peeking under the gaps of your clothes, tracking your every move—from your apartment to work, the grocery store, and even the gym. It's unnerving.

Tonight, you're hoping the shorter route, dim as it is, will be your saving grace.

As you trek down the poorly lit street, you clutch your bag a little tighter. You glance back, just once, to make sure no one's there.

Your fiancé has your live location—a precaution you ensured before leaving the office. Just a few more meters, and you'll be home-sweet-home, ready to jump into a hot shower and unwind for the day.

But luck has never been your strong suit.

At first, you almost don’t hear it: the faintest scuff of a footstep behind you.

A chill pierces through your body. You freeze mid-step. Your heartbeat thunders, hammering against your chest so loud you swear the entire neighborhood can hear it.

You're just being paranoid. It's late and you're imagining things.

But then it happens again. A step. And another. You walk faster, and the sound mirrors your pace. When your pace turns to a sprint, so does theirs.

And fuck! Why the hell did you decide to wear these stupid heels today of all days? You're running as fast as you can, praying and praying you'll make it out alive, but that person is suddenly catching up to you because you can hear their breaths and it's scaring you and your legs are starting to feel like lead, anchoring you to the ground, but you can't stop now if you stop they'll catch up and god knows what they'll do to you oh god oh god oh god—

A sickening crunch.

"Woah," a deep, smooth voice cuts through the night. "That was close. Any second later, and things could've gotten... real messy."

You don't have to turn around to know who the voice belongs to.

He steps into view, and you meet eye-to-eye—or rather, after craning your neck to look up—with your former classmate.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" His smile is bright, almost boyish. For a split second, his laidback, easygoing demeanor disarms you, almost making you forget about being chased. But then your eyes drop to his hand. Crimson coats his open palm, shards of skull and smears of brain matter wedged between his fingers, the carnage dripping sluggishly down the back of his hand and pooling at his wrist.

Reality crashes down on you.

Your body moves to let out a bloodcurdling scream, but sensing that, he quickly interjects—

"Hey, hey, none of that, okay?" His hand—cleaned off in one swipe across his dark hoodie—comes up in a mock-placating gesture, palms open. "You don’t want to wake the whole neighborhood, do you?"

Your scream dies in your throat, lips trembling as you clamp your mouth shut.

“See, that’s better. No need for theatrics. You’re safe now. Though, with a reaction like that, you’d think I was the one chasing you. You wound me, you know?” He presses a hand to his chest in mock pain, as if your terror has genuinely hurt his feelings. “Here I am, your knight in shining armor, and all I get is fear.” It’s difficult to process exactly who you're talking to, owed simply to the fact that the man before you is so vastly different from the timid, nerdy boy he once was.

For one, he’s no longer the small, scrawny kid with limp arms. His once frail frame has been replaced with broad shoulders, lean muscle, and a big-boned sturdiness that makes it impossible to look away. And two, he exudes a confidence that feels almost foreign, his tone carrying a gravitas and assuredness that commands attention.

He’s grown into someone almost unrecognizable, eerily reminiscent of Zenith in both presence and charm. "Thank you," you eventually remember your manners, shaken from your reverie. "I—god, that was...that was fucking scary." A shudder of relief escapes you as your fingers brush through your hair, soothing yourself, trying to steady your racing heart.

But beneath the relief, a thread of confusion winds its way into your thoughts. You're surprised, but grateful. Grateful for his intervention, yes, but something about this situation doesn't sit right.

He's an elite, A-list superhero. Why the hell would he be dealing with petty street crime? Shouldn't that be left to the junior heroes, the ones still earning their medals? And how the hell did he end up in your neighborhood at exactly the right time and place? The timing alone feels too perfect, almost too convenient.

Your mind screams at you to drop it. To not pry. To avoid opening Pandora's box. But you can't help it. So against your better judgement, you ask, "Why... why are you here? This... doesn't seem like your usual type of scene. You know, with your—" you gesture vaguely toward him, the potent aura he's practically radiating, "—everything."

He chuckles, the sound light, carefree, as if he hasn't noticed the way you're trying to process it all. "Why not? You think I only deal with the big stuff?" He steps closer, teasing grin widening. "No, no. It's my job to save everyone. Doesn't matter if it's a suspicious guy lurking around the corner or a city-wide crisis. Every life counts."

"People have been reporting strange sightings around here," he continues. “Someone’s been poking around the area lately. Guess I was just in the right place at the right time. And I'm glad I was."

On any other given day—when you would be thinking straight, less frazzled, more like your logical self, and not on the verge of hyperventilating from a near-death experience, you might've exercised more caution, more discernment.

You might’ve pressed further, questioning whether it was truly necessary to kill the man in such a grotesque way. You can see the headless corpse left to rot in your periphery, blood pooling on the asphalt, and—shit—you’re gonna be sick. Isn’t it protocol to hand him over to authorities first for custody anyway? By now, alarm bells should’ve been blaring in your head.

But tonight? Tonight, your sense of self preservation is dimmed by the weight of what just happened, your nerves still rattled by the close call.

So, while your mind lingers on the oddity of it all, the warmth of his smile, the ease with which he carries himself, are enough to disarm your defenses, reassuring you more than you'd care to admit. Somehow, in a haze of confusion and adrenaline, you find yourself standing at the front of your apartment. How you got there, you're not sure. The walk from the street to the lobby, through the elevator, and up to your floor feels like a blur. You can barely recall the steps, yet here you are, staring at your door—unlocked and ajar. It almost doesn't make sense, yet your hand is already on the handle, pushing it open with a slight jerking motion as if on autopilot.

You don’t say goodbye, though. Instead, you look at him with a half cocked head, as if still questioning your own actions. A strange combination of guilt, relief, and the faintest sense of obligation rush through you.

Maybe it's the guilt for how you distanced yourself from him in high school, never standing up for him when he needed it most. Or perhaps it’s your gratitude for not dying tonight—you're still floating on that cathartic relief. Maybe it’s the lingering impulse to repay him, or simply a strange desire to reconnect with someone you once knew a decade ago. Besides, your mind rationalizes, your fiancé will be home soon, so it’s not like you can’t kick him out if things get uncomfortable. And he's an old classmate, right? Nothing to lose here.

"Do you want to come in?" The invitation tumbles out before you can even think to stop it.

Little do you know just how terrible of a mistake that is.

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deadtiredghost · 7 months ago

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Tmnt facts that are canon cause i said so:

All Leo's are sci-fi fans of varying degrees of old sci-fi series/movies

But MM!Leo thinks the old movies are old and thus has no major franchise to obsess over, he is just big into any of the more modern movies of the genre: I'm thinking Interstellar, Blade Runner, idk many more. And then he started watching Final Space and eventually got into Futurama.

But he still would think the other Leo's are old and a bit lame for enjoying old anime so much.

All the Donnie's and Leo's are the musical fans, but that doesn't mean that Raph and Mikey can't enjoy a musical too! Especially 2003!Raph who grew up watching shit like high school musical and teen beach movie with Leo and Donnie.

The 2003 boys all teamed up to sit on Mikey and tape Mikey's mouth shut cause he would dramatically and badly sing the songs otherwise.

2018 crew are hard into Hamilton of course while 2012 have a knock off version of it that flopped but Mikey loves.

2003 have a musical version of Lost Boys and Faries that could possibly be comparable with some rap songs and some emotional ballads.

Bayverse and MM have batman while 2018 have a weird mixture of some irl media and some really obvious knock offs. 2012 has Wingnut and Silber sentry as comics to replace Marvel and DC in their universe and we all know how 2003 is on superheroes.

All the Mikey's are naturally talented at drawing apart from 2012 who's skills apparently just got transferred to literally every single one of his siblings.

2012!Mikey's writing looks like chickenscratch and his drawings are chaotic in an abstract art kinda way, while 12!Leo can draw anime, 12!Karai is decent at drawing anything reallt, 12!Donnie preffers skatching items and backgrounds rather than people and 12!Raph is the one who does art the most in the fam.

The 1987 turtles are stuck in 1987 and have been since 1987. They like crossovers for the change of pace but 87!Raph and 87!Donnie very much dislike how other turtles have treated them in the past so take any and ever chance to fuck with their alternates in retaliation, feigning innocence well enough that they keep getting away with blatantly insulting their iterations to their face.

Leo is the tea drinker in the family across iterations but most of the iterations don't drink coffee - rottmnt gets into coffee wars (sans Leo and Splinter) but other than that 2007!Donnie and Bayverse!Raph are the only rabid coffee drinkers.

most of the Donnies drink energy drinks if they want a caffeine boost - the nonbinaries and their Monster especially.

The MM kids aren't allowed coffee because Splinter read a watched of child-raising YouTube videos and banned it. Of course that doesn't stop them from sneaking out. MM!Donnie is trying to convince him to allow coffee while MM!Raph just sneaks in his energy drinks.

2003!Casey was convinced the turtles were adults for at LEAST the first month into their friendship.

The ampunt Mikey wears stickers is directly proportional to the amount of leeway Splinter gives him - with the used-to-be-human Splinters being more strict on not personalising his weapon while the used-to-be-rat Splinters such as MM gives the go ahead.

The outlines of this rule are 03!Splinter and 18!Splinter of course who have entirely different ways of handling their adhd child.

And then there is bayverse!Splinter who said fuck the stickers, yes of course my 15-year-old children can have tattoos.

(And yes I firmly believe they were 15 in the first movie, and I attribute their tattoos to Splinter not really seeing the harm in it, or caring much as long as it won't hurt them.)

18!Leo is biologically the eldest but no one knows this apart from Draxum who will never tell at this point. Splinter aged them based on size.

On the other hand, 03!Leo is the biological youngest but only Donnie knows this (science shit to find it out) and will never tell anyone because he found out that 03!Mikey hatched first and that information can never be allowed to get to the turtle in question.

2012 Casey is transfem but doesn't know it yet and 2018 Casey is what 12!Casey will look like at 20.

All Donnie's watch anime and all Mikey's watch horror movies - despite how much they may or may not scream at the horror movies.

07!Mikey sells art online and 07!Leo becomes a language tutor in their 20's. Ironic as 12!Raph attempts to sell art online but becomes too emotionally attached to his work and 12!Donnie attempts to tutor for a time but is a terrible teacher.

Leo is a basketball or baseball fan, Raph likes wrestling and basketball, Donnie will partake in basketball or volleyball and Mikey prefers dancing but is open to playing anything... just not watching.

Splinter always watched the tennis, becuase his grandmother did. Leo likes to put it on but doesn't like playing it.

Mikey will forever be confused why the others enjoy watching sport. This stemms from when he was 12 and trying to watch his cartoons and Splinter would always take control of the TV during the Olympics. Mikey is still very salty and has an agenda against the Olympics and any other big sports match on their communal TV.

All the Leo's before 2012 just didnt use the Internet or any electronics as a kid and thus struggles with electronics massively.

Conversely 2012 and 2018 Leo were both on tumblr as kids and read fanfic about Space Heros and Jupiter Jim respectively.

And in addition: Donnie was on the Internet far too much as a kid.

(12!Donnie will never tell but 12!Mikey befriending Chris Bradford on Facebook hit a bit too close to home.)

After Don, Raph is the best at mechanics, other than 18!Raph who is kinda shit at them.

Splinter taught all of the turtles first aid but Raph and Mikey are patched up the most by the other two, which leads to the other two being more confident and skilled at first aid.

Leo's first aid experience is very much similar to an army medic, using improvisation based on his prior knowledge without any of the proper hospital procedure while Donnie's is much more based on his research into medicine and thus much more clinical.

The outliers are the 18!kids cause Donnie finds biological shit kinda disgusting unless he HAS to do it.

And then there is the 87!turtles who don't really get hurt for longer than an episode's run time. Despite this every single one of them are able to accurately and skillfully carry out any medical procedure should the need arise becuase cartoon logic and convenience. It is a skill they have and its usually 87!Donnie ordering them about while 87!Raph plays nurse.

Mikey and Raph spray paint together sometimes in all iterations other than 87.

87!Mikey and 87!Leo have never kmowingly committed a crime.

Mikey looks up to Leo most out of his siblings, and Leo would look up to Mikey in turn if he could get over the jealousy towards his youngest brother.

There is not a single itteration where Leo doesn't sometimes kinda wish he could be more like Mikey - he has never voiced these feelings and hates that he feels this jealousy.

If you wake Leo up from sleeping he will be alert, a bit grumpy about it, but will never turn you away. He rarely gets a full good night's sleep anyways, ans becuase of this he is prime target to bother when he is awake... up until they turn 14 where Leo gets into the habit of pretending to be asleep so Mikey doesn't bother him and starts meditating until he falls asleep.

The prior headcannon excludes rottmnt and mutant mayhem.

Mikey starts bothering Donnie more and joins him in the lab late at night a lot.

If you dare to disturb Raph's beauty sleep you will get a pillow to the face and a shouting to at the least.

Everyone of the turtles loves Kung Fu Panda or whatever similar movie exists in their world. They won't admit it but its because Poe reminds them of Mikey.

Raph maintains that he doesn't like physical contact much to get out of hugging the sweaty humans in his life. He is actually fairly chill with hugs he just hates the feeling of sweat on his scales so much, and learnt that the hard way when Casey brought him in for a hug after a fight and he shoved him off and blustered a bit. But any of his siblings hugging him is fine, he only ever shoves them off out of annoyance.

Donnie is the least huggy turtle, but he will sometimes lean his full body weight on April - which is fine in most iterations but some cannot handle the weight, I'm looking at Bayverse.

If Mikey were a human he would be a borderline nudist when home and everyone who lived with him would complain about it.

Like [insert hair covering here] and a fluffy dressing gown from when he was 9 wrapped around the waist if you're lucky.

#tmnt headcanons #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2003 #1987 tmnt #trans casey jones #idk what else to tag #the turtles were raised on movies #not a serious post but im also 100% serious #i take no criticism but feel free too add to the list #i didnt realise how long this was #no regrets

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sugarpasteltmnt · 4 months ago

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What are some of your favorite character relationships/dynamics in TMNT, and why? Is there anything that you particularly like seeing explored with them in fan works (art, writing, comics, etc)?

oh wow!! what a fun ask!!

stashing this under a read-more because i really popped off LOL

My favorite relationships and dynamics??

I feel like i should preface this by admitting that Rise was actually my first real exposure to the TMNT franchise-- and after reading and watching some other iterations it became incredibly apparent how different Rise was in several aspects. And i loved it!!

but with TMNT as a whole, i really love the Leo and Raph dynamics across the TMNT universe (shocking i know lol). It's probably my favorite dynamic of the whole franchise lol. I love love love how they can clash against each other in dramatic ways. And yet, at the end of the day, they would lay down their lives for each other. It's so fun and heartwarming to see that across all the different TMNT iterations.

I also think how Splinter's relationship with the boys can drastically fluctuate between iterations is super interesting. Splinter is such a cool character, and playing with his relationship with the boys has such a crazy big impact on the story and vibe. My favorite Splinters are 2003 and Rise and those two are hilariously different. But something they share is their protectiveness of their families. Which is a dynamic some other iterations turn on its head! And I love that!

And April. GOD i love April so much. The concept of her character is a trope i love. A human who is not just a friend but family with non-humans??? I'm obsessed. And I love that each April of every iteration has her own level of unhinged-ness.

Honestly I could probably write a thesis on each character but I'll try to keep it short lol. But something I really love???

The TMNT franchise itself isn't afraid to experiment with its own iconic relationships or story beats.

It doesn't take itself too seriously while putting a lot of thought and care into the wild, different storylines or concepts. What I might think is an iconic relationship/dynamic in TMNT might be different than someone else's-- and that's fun! The level of flexibility and boldness for trying different things for dynamics and relationships is something I really adore about TMNT as a franchise.

There are tropes and dynamics that are totally my favorite. But I also love seeing those things experimented with!!! But I had to absolutely pick something, it would be all the dynamics seen in Rise. I just love it so much!!

And fan works??

as for what I like seeing being explored in fan works, i gotta say--

I LOVE IT ALL AHHHH!!!❤️💞💗💖💕❤️💞💗💖

TMNT is such a fun and unusual IP, and i totally enjoy seeing other fans going wild with their own creative ideas. I love seeing people pop off with whatever their hearts desire. Anything from the iconic tropes to the niche, hyper-specific concepts-- I love it all. Because there is so much to explore with these characters. And I adore seeing people having fun with their ideas. It's hard to answer what my 'favorite' things to see are because I'm greedy for ALL of it! Because seeing all the different experiments with my favorite dynamics and relationships is so incredibly refreshing and exciting!!

I love seeing people play with each brother's relationship with one another. I love seeing the different takes on Splinter and his role as a father figure (or lack of). I love seeing the potential early-days of Rise-April's relationship with the boys as kids. I love every possible take on every possible character. I will always be a sucker for the juicy story tropes. But I'm just as ravenous for the off-the-cuff twists and concepts. I love any and all of it. Because it's so fun to see what people can cook up-- especially when it's a setup that you never would've thought of before but gave you a new perspective!!!

Because at the end of the day, TMNT is-- frankly-- a silly franchise. And it knows it! But it's not afraid to put in the serious moments and emotions that make all the dynamics interesting. And it's not afraid to experiment with its own building blocks. And I love that fans aren't afraid to push the unexpected in fan works, or do a deeper dive of the dynamics and relationships we've seen in different iterations.

This turned more into a love letter for all TMNT and TMNT fans rather than what my favorite parts are, but it's still all true! I am constantly collecting my favorite dynamics and tropes and putting them in my mental shelf of favorite things. While there are classics I'll always love no matter what, some days the flavor changes!!! And I love that TMNT both as a franchise and as a fandom is so diverse when experimenting with these characters!!

So, in a way this is me saying keep having fun creating and experimenting--because not only does it make me happy, but I hope it makes you happy too 🩵

#sorry bestie kind off went off of this one lol #thanks for coming to my ted talk lol #'whats your favorite dynamic and relationships?' Yes To All #pastel prattling #non neon void related #blasting you all with my heart beam btw #💖💗💕❤️��🩵💗💖🩵💕🩵💞

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thankchaosforspellcheck · 1 year ago

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I've been getting more into rottmnt lately (I know, very late to the party, but that's pretty much always how I get into something if I'm not riding a friends obsession wave) and I'm especially interested in Leo's character.

Not just because it's so far flung from the usual take of "(kid trying to be a) strong, stoic leader and takes things a bit too seriously" but because it actually DOES keep with his core traits if you think about it!

Leo's main traits are generally that he is the "leader" of the group, the nearly second parent to his brothers, but WHY did he develop these traits? Because in every other series he's trying to copy Splinter. He always intensely looks up to splinter, trying his best to become what he thinks will make him proud.

And that didn't change in the rottmnt series.

Leo still has that core desire.

What changed is Splinter.

Splinter is the polar opposite of the other iterations in a lot of ways. He's often laid back, almost uncaring of his surroundings, he can be very petty, and seems near negligent with the turtles at the start of the show.

It honestly might seem like there would be nothing to look up TO while growing up for Leo, but of course, it's not the CURRENT splinter that Leo really looks up to! It's the past version of him on TV. Even (possibly especially) before Leo even knows that Lou Jitsu eventually became Splinter, he desperately wants to be like him. Really, all of the turtles do, but he's the one who really internalized his personality.

In the movies, he's witty, charming, and prone to making grand remarks or jokes in tense situations. He's valiant, and has a caring side to him. So Leo decided, consciously or not, to essentially make that his entire personality.

He wants to be someone that his hero would be proud of, and that person in this universe just didn't seem to be the Serious Leader type.

#that's just my 2 cents tho #rottmnt #leonardo rottmnt #leonardo hamato #character analysis

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curiouspupsicle · 2 months ago

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Fan Fic Writer Interview

When @possibility-left tagged me a while back for @cheeseplants writer interview game, I didn't feel worthy. I had only written one fic.

But then @missunderstoodlyrics tagged me. And since I've now plotted out a new, long fic and written several chapters, I guess it's time to stop lurking in the shadows and call myself a fan fic writer (not necessarily a good one, or experienced one, but a fan fic writer nonetheless). So here we go: What fandoms do you write in? Good Omen all day long. Never read any other fan fiction (even for fandoms I love). Never written any other fan fiction. How many words have you published in 2024? Ooh, this looks sad. 1,077 in my short bit o'fluff. But I've published millions of non-fiction words since I started my first WordPress blog in 2010. So apparently, like Nina, I have things to say. If you're curious about my typical writing, check out Honey and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Day. It will be relevant to a future fan fic. What is your greatest achievement this year? It's a tie. First, managing to work, feed myself, and care for my dog rather than reading exquisite fan fiction hour after hour and day after day. And second, finding the courage to write fan fic at all despite being much older (and less talented) than the wonderful writers I enjoy. But, at the risk of my anonymity, I have written a few blog posts on the joys of doing new things badly (click the link to find the inspiration for that mantra which also ties into my next big fan fic project). So I guess I have to live my words. What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year? Well, as a newbie, there's only one published: Will You Ever Stop Surprising Me? In it, Crowley worries that he'll get bored after averting two apocalypses just to find his angel still has some surprises in him yet. It's pure fluff set in a sex toys shop. (And no, I'll probably never write actual smut. At least not if the voices in my head when I'm reading it--are you kidding me? people in their 50s can't kiss from that position!--are any indication. What was your biggest pit of despair moment? Probably haven't seen it yet. But even in the pits, I look for hope. So I guess it was the pit where I told myself I was definitely spending too much time in fandom works when I should be looking for more paid work and taking care of my boat. But struggled to make progress. Then I realized that the long fic I was obsessing over was actually helping quell the anxiety that kept me from, well, looking for more work and taking care of my boat. What have you learned?

That it's lovely to learn from young(er) people. I admire the craft of people as young as teenagers. And the maturity and vision of writers young enough to be my children. It's fine that I don't have their skillset. I'm a beginner, after all. What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Just three? What, are you insane? Okay, since I share faves regularly on FanFic Friday (follow me if you want to be sure to see them), I guess I can limit myself. But You are an Ocean by megzseattle - After reading thousands of words with Crowley crawling into a whiskey bottle after Aziraphale returned to heaven, this fic read like a fresh breeze. Crowley moves to the South Downs on his own and befriends the protective women of the village. Extra points for BAMF!Aziraphale off-screen and found-family joy. A Portrait in Synesthia by DiminishingReturns - God creates the universe over and over trying to perfect it. She wipes out the memories of the angels every time. But somehow Crowley and Aziraphale find each other in each new iteration using their synesthetic senses. It's stunning. Delectable But Not Edible by AppleSeeds - Human AU - Aziraphale visits a Lush soap store where Crowley works determined to sample those delicious looking confections. I laughed out loud the whole way through. And while I love my clever angel, it was very fun to see him being so obtuse--while clever enough to get past the crazy embarrassment any normal person would have felt in the same position. And finally, What ideas are percolating for next year? I'm SO excited by a new fic I'm working on in which Crowley and Aziraphale are sailors who compete against each other in a singlehanded, round the world race. It will have banter, some angst, peril at sea, our boys demonstrate their feminism, and more. I don't think you'll need advanced knowledge about sailing or racing to appreciate it. And I'm using this as an opportunity to bring some events from real life sailing history to a new audience. Click to read a little snippet of I've written so far. And to see some great footage of sailing off Cape Horn. Why is this such a passion project? While I've never raced, I did live and cruise full time on a sailboat for 7 years. My boat (although I am not) is capable of doing a circumnavigation. So far, the writing and research have helped me tremendously with healing after unexpectedly ending my cruising life two years ago. Tag, answer any Qs that suit and play along (apologies if you're been tagged before and I missed it)! @pookasluagh, @di-42, @dragonfire42, @itsscottiesstark, @shadesofecclescakes, @lavendermoonlitskies, @serenity-black, @holycatsandrabbits

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic writer #fanfic writing #2024 on Ao3 #ao3 writer

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avalon-of-babylon · 6 months ago

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Batman: The Capped Crusader literally introduced my 4 favorite batkids in the same episode and made them all literally adoptable.

Realistically, I know in the next season, Bruce isn't gonna pop down to the orphanage and grab himself a Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Carrie Kelley AND Stephanie Brown (just two of them at the same time would fucking kill him) but also now I want a batman to have to contend with his 4 most feral children. And they are the most feral of them all.

Also before I begin can I just say I fucking love Jason and Carrie being the sameish age. For years, I have been convinced that if Carrie was in a mainstream universe, she should be Jason's age and that the two of them would be so close they'd basically be twins and this right here is so close it almost feels like vindication.

Now for why these 4 are the most feral batkids and why Bruce having to put up will all of them as Robin at the same time would fucking kill the man.

Richard "Dick" Grayson:

The man may be a genuine himbo but he is also the son of circus performers, so for as much light as there is in his soul there is also a gay wolf telling him to do backflips when he's bored, make puns at every opportunity, touch everything and generally be the most adorable menace you've ever met. Also, Discowing definitely counts as feral behavior.

Jason Peter Todd:

In this universe, Jason was probably put into the system after his stepmom ODed so chances are this isn't a steal-the-wheels-off-the-batmobile kinda Jason but could definitely still be a sneaks-out-of-the-house-to-hang-out-with-Catwoman-and-co or is babysat by prostitutes kind of Jason. (I know for a fact that last one literally happened at least once) Even if you take out the violence and crime, you can not convince me that this Jason is not the kind of kid who wouldn't constantly be getting into trouble because he's always trying to prove himself and eventually have a tragic dead at the hands of the Joker that when he's brought back leaves him jaded, angry and the beautiful problem child we all know and thirst after. Also, he's the only member of the family Alfred allows into the kitchen, so jot that down while you're at it.

Carrie Kelley:

My girl was created by the living curse that is Frank Miller that alone makes her feral. But if you don't know my girl Carrie in the Millerverse got saved from a mugger by batman and imitately decided "fuck pants and my drug addict hippie parents it's time to fight crime in green booty short with a fucking slingshot", was almost imitately begrudgingly taken in by batman, probably dropped out of school, fought a Joker who had suicide bomber child-sized android baby dolls and helped lead a literal underground war on crime with a pseudo-cult of batman themed vigilantes called the Sons of Batman formed by former gang members who became obsessed with the guy after he beat up their former leader a no-neck nipple studded punk humanculous who looks even worse than I'm describing. Every iteration of Carrie Kelley is forged from the mold of a girl who almost reached Logan living with wolves levels of feral behavior, she is insane and I love her.

Stephanie Brown:

Her father is literally bargain bin Riddler because he lost his job as a game show host and she got fucking refrigeratored by Black Mask only 2 months into being robin, she deserves to be a little feral. Every iteration of Steph is one with a right to live life to the fullest weither that means giving Bruce shit over his terrible parenting, memeing on c-list villians like kiteman or just hanging around being a menace this girl is feral. Good for her, good for her.

In summary, Batman: The Caped Crusader should end with Bruce's kids literally killing him off with stress, lmao. Also, the setting is perfect for making Dick Discowing, so DC take notes.

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veespee · 7 months ago

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Vinnie Everyman headcanons. NEEEOWWW. I'm joking take your time I love you sisouchhh

ILY TOO and i actually already have written some Vinnie headcanons, but they're pretty old and i honestly didn't get his character that much, so I'll add some more!

old headcanons:

Vinnie Everyman headcanons

-Very good liar. Like, he could just make up the most believable lies in a second, which is pretty impressive. I think that's why he was able to fool literally everyone watching the videos into believing he's an unknowing victim.

-Literally can't form a thought without HABIT. Like he needs HABIT's input on everything. I'm pretty sure i said this on my old post, but i think he believes HABIT is so much stronger and intelligent, so he follows him around for input and information. Again, with his obsession with finding out 'the truth' and 'the clues', he will basically take whatever he can get.

-Doesn't like showing emotion or talking about his emotions. He's very much a person who just ignores his trauma, bottles it up, then explodes.

-This goes for all the characters tbh but i think they all have some sort of connection to their past iterations. Like flashbacks or deja vu. They don't remember, but they also just feel something in their gut. For example in Vinnie's case, i think he would feel a connection to/a craving for certain drugs, due to his Princeton Iteration being an addict. Or sometimes Vinnie would split, since his Princeton version has BPD. (not confirmed, but hinted) They all keep little characteristics, like fragments of broken glass, every time they're reborn.

smaller and weirder headcanons cause i ran out of ideas:

-Since he was a kid he named his pets weirdly human names. (ex. Jeremy, Robert, Susan etc.) Idk why he just seems very uncreative to me.

-Will eat anything and is only picky about a few things. Like give this man food and he'll be happy as long as it's edible and doesn't have pickles or something.

-Headlocks + play fights to show affection. He usually just doesn't know or want to show affection anyways, so he uses a more 'manly' and 'rough' way.

#slenderverse #emh #vinnie emh #vinny emh #vinny everyman #vinnie everymanhybrid #vinnie everyman #vincent everyman #vincent emh #everymanhybrid #analysis #slenderverse headcanons #headcanons #hcs

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mania-sama · 7 months ago

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If you don't mind me asking, who are your top 5 (or top 7) favorite (fictional) characters ever from any media? Why love them?

thanks so much for the ask!! i always love your questions <3

God, this is a hard one. Because I've consumed and fallen in love with so many pieces of media in my life, it's hard for me to tell who exactly my favorite characters are. The pool is just too big to choose from! But I'll try my best regardless!

Also an important note that as I grow older, this list could very well become out-dated very fast. Who knows what I will see or what medias I will consume that will alter my perception of reality?

In no particular order:

Bakugou Katsuki [My Hero Academia] -> THE OG. I REPEAT. THE OG ONLINE OBSESSION. My history with My Hero Academia goes way back on my online persona, when I was a wee lad and experiencing my first online hyperfixation (Warrior Cats not included). I had him as online nickname and profile picture on multiple accounts and instances. I look back and cringe on this era of my life, but I still will not stand for slander on this character. I obsessed over him because he is an incredibly well-written character, with faults, passions, interesting qualities, and an insane amount of character growth that, arguably, rivals Zuko. His character motivations still stand out to me to this day. I quit reading/watching BNHA around the war arc, like right when it finished and Midoriya fled the scene. No particular reason for quitting, I think; I just moved on from that part of my life. But, Bakugou will always stick with me just a little. AND YOU KNOW WHAT. I liked him when everyone else still hated him. I liked him before it was cool to like him. Shout out to 2020-2021 me for being an OG. I'm still a "Ground Zero" truther to this very day.

Percy Jackson [Percy Jackson and the Olympians] -> Anyone that has read the PJO and/or the following series will not be surprised to find him here. He's like Spiderman but better, which is saying a lot because I really, really like Spiderman. Percy Jackson is there for every kid who has ever felt out of place in this world; for every kid who has struggled in succeeding in any aspect of their life; for every kid who grew up in a household different from their peers; for every kid who behaves in ways that other people don't seem to understand. Spiderman was a character created to represent the reader of superhero comics: a teenage white boy. Of course, later iterations of Spiderman come to represent more individuals, but that is not who he was originally. Percy Jackson is a character that comes from a place of necessity. He is a character that represents the reader of PJO: a kid who doesn't quite fit in with the rest, for one reason or another. Percy is funny, ultra-overpowered, relatable, and still gets his happy ending. Nothing more to want in a character, really.

Robbie White | Axe Boy [Identity V] -> My hunter main for Identity V. I don't really know how to explain why I love him so much, and how he has become a character I get emotional over very fast. I seem to find one random character from a game and attach myself to them like a jellyfish. Not only is his backstory devastatingly heartbreaking, he is adorable in all of his animations, standby motions, emotes, etc.. He has carried me to many victories, and he will continue to carry me in every match I play. I literally forced myself to download IDV on my laptop and play a few matches just so I could get his Little Nightmares crossover skin. No matter how far he falls from meta, they can never make me hate you Robbie.

Kugisaki Nobara [Jujutsu Kaisen] -> I had a LOT of internal debate over this. I guess I can't confirm until I leave the fandom, but for right now, she's definitely one of my top favorite characters of all time. I'm considering writing an analysis on her because she is just so good. I have never seen a female character in a piece of media that isn't explicitly feminine embody femininity so well. It actually impresses me to a degree I cannot reasonably tell you. She's just perfect. Everything about her is everything that I want to be as a woman. She's comfortable in her own skin, confident not in a man-ish way, but in a distinctly feminine way. What gives that she wants to feel pretty and strong in a physical way? Who is saying that she can't have both? Not to mention that she's also extremely strategically smart. I love her. I really, really do. Sometimes, I imagine strangling Gege's avatar and it makes me very happy.

Oikawa Tooru [Haikyuu] -> I honest-to-God cannot believe he made it here. I tried so hard to find a character to replace him. I did not want him here out of SPITE. But here he is, somehow, and not replaced by Miles Morales (who, upon reflection, would only be here because I did not want Oikawa to be here. Miles didn't even make my honorable mentions. That is proof enough, I suppose, that Oikawa somehow deserves his spot). I've talked about it before, but I'll reiterate it here: Oikawa is a character that is very, very easy to toy around with. He is THE teenager, and THE adult. You can project pretty much any anxiety or worry onto him and it'll make sense because he's got so many self-worth issues it's laughable. I don't want to spend more time talking about him than he deserves. I am as disappointed as you are that he made this list.

Honorable Mentions:

Razor & Xiao [Genshin Impact] -> They would've made the list if I could've put one above the other for real. Silly whimsical attachment with immense appreciation for the character writing vs serious love for the writing and development of the character beyond words. Simply an impossible choice.

Akabane Karma [Assassination Classroom] -> He was my favorite character of all time at one point in history and is still the inspiration behind my Tiktok nickname (that I may change one day). Unfortunately, it's been a long time since I've watched the anime and I can't remember much of what drew me to Karma in the first place that isn't already achieved in other of my favorite characters. Still, I thought I'd honor him here.

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bettsfic · 8 months ago

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18 and 19

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

passage below the cut! this is from Skinless when Layla and Henry meet. by this point we've mostly been in Henry's POV, where his coworker Layla seems like a nice young woman with whom he is foaming-at-the-mouth obsessed. we get to her POV (second person because that's just how she thinks, and also this is a flashback because her pacing and story structure is entirely separate from Henry's because i hate myself i guess) and find out she's been totally deranged for Henry from the beginning. this is the first time we see Henry from outside his POV.

backstory:

the career fair scene went through many iterations but has become an unfortunate foundational turning point of the story, despite the fact that a commercial underwriting department of a bank would never be at a college career fair

i did once research every question of every exam for a class where i thought the professor was being cruel. i also went to the dean about it, and there was an investigation, and every single student in the class went from a C to a B. (that's how bad it was: we all had the same grade, based on basically nothing, which was deeply ironic considering it was a statistics class)

like Layla, i've also had the Kids in the Hall theme song stuck in my head for most of my life

ultimately Skinless is a light-hearted rom com about two walking red flags who are trying to make their relationship work even though one of them is not who he says he is and the other is plotting a murder

the ethics test at the bank was really only 10 questions

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

the first thing i ever wrote was a series of stories in my diary when i was 8 or 9, and they all had the same premise in different settings: a child lives in a community but everyone hates him (they were always boy povs) and eventually the child runs away or is killed by the townspeople and everyone is much happier with him gone. the end.

a wrote a bit more here and there until i was 14 or so, at which point i seemed to forget writing fiction was even a thing. i kept a journal from 14 onward and that was the only creative writing i did besides the occasional poem until i was 24 and started writing fanfic.

i'm now 34 and i have an MFA in creative writing and half a PhD, and i've had some short publications and won some awards and i do artist residencies sometimes and have an agent. i'm hoping to put two manuscripts out on submission later this year or early next.

one of which will be Skinless, an excerpt of which is below the cut.

from Chapter 5:

In your final semester of college, you attend a career fair. As you wander the booths, you begin to consider that there might be industries more suited to people like you. You spot a bank. The man standing at the booth is talking to someone. You notice immediately that his congeniality is feigned, proven when the applicant walks away and his face returns to apathy.

He is wearing a sharp black suit. Black dress shirt. Black tie. He is in his late twenties, perhaps. He has light brown skin and his hair is buzzed close to his scalp in a way that makes you eager to touch his head, feel it against your palm. He is tall and broad-shouldered, but he holds himself like he isn’t, slightly slouched, the way people stand in public transit to give others more room.

Something about him piques your curiosity, and as you walk toward him the small spark of your initial question mark grows into something that consumes you. You can’t even tell what exactly is drawing you to him. It’s not his beauty—although, aesthetically speaking, he is quite pleasing. It’s not his attire, though it’s strange to see a businessman in all black. It’s not the bored blankness of his face that reflects how you have felt these past four years pretending to be a peppy sorority girl. But it’s something, and suddenly you’re standing in front of him and handing him your resume.

He takes it and scans it. This is a bizarre interaction, this not speaking and not acknowledging each other thing, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Without even looking at you, he says, “Tell me about a time someone blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault, and what you did about it.”

His voice doesn’t match him at all, this enormous man with this soft yet vaguely robotic voice. When you say nothing, he glances at you expectantly. You feel small and young. He doesn’t even see you. You are just one student among the many he will speak with today.

“Last semester I had a professor who didn’t like me so he tried to give me a B,” you tell him. “I guess because I kept finding errors in our exams and proving it by cross-referencing the textbook. And it was outdated, so even if the exam matched the book, I’d be able to find newer research that conflicted with it. In a fifty-question exam, he would have to throw out almost half the questions and everyone got a way better grade.”

“You researched every question of every exam?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“He called a girl stupid and made her cry. And anyway, it’s not really ethical to be teaching outdated research.”

“So you—”

“Got him fired.”

“Fired? Really?”

Not exactly. He just didn’t get assigned any sections the following semester. You shrug. “Adjuncts are expendable.”

“And you don’t consider any of that underhanded?”

“I’d rather be underhanded than complaisant.”

Briefly he looks you dead in the eye. It ignites something in you like a match being struck. All the stupid princess movies you hated growing up and which Candy still makes you watch are right: love at first sight is real, and it happened to you, the person least qualified to do anything about it.

When Angie from the bank’s HR department calls you to schedule a formal interview, you begin your preparations. You buy an interview outfit. You ask Candy to teach you how to do your makeup and hair. Then you study. Common interview questions. How to answer them. What the fuck underwriting is.

You arrive at the bank certain that the beautiful career fair man won’t be there, but he’s the one who greets you in the lobby. He’s once more wearing all black.

“Hi, Layla, good to see you again.” He holds out his hand to you. “Henry King.”

“Henry King,” you say back, awed as you shake his big, beautiful hand and look into his big, beautiful eyes. You’re going to be Layla King one day. You promise yourself you won’t go home and practice your future signature, because that would be ridiculous.

Now you are in an elevator with Henry King, going all the way up to the thirtieth floor. He opens his mouth to pop his ears at floor sixteen.

“Mr. King?” You wait for him to say, Call me Henry, but he doesn’t. “Do you have any tips for me?”

“Wouldn’t that give you an unfair advantage?”

“Don’t you want me to have an unfair advantage?”

He looks down and away, scratches his head, and even though he’s not smiling you get the impression he’s pleased. “As long as you don’t admit to being a psychopath, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I would never admit that.”

The elevator doors open and he holds them for you to step out first. “Just be honest,” he says, “and be yourself.”

When you arrive on your first day, Henry King is waiting for you in the lobby again, and he’s still not smiling but there is something in his eyes that tells you he’s glad to see you. He holds out his hand and says, “Congratulations.”

You won’t be shaking Henry King’s hand. You hug him and he goes oof. Tentatively he pats your back. When you pull away, you say, “Thank you for getting me the job. It really means a lot to me.”

He seems to be short-circuiting, like you have suddenly initiated improv in a well-rehearsed play. It’s fine. You have the job now, and after all, he did tell you to be yourself.

During your training, you’re required to read the corporate ethics guide and take a ten-question test. The questions are so obvious that you don’t really have to read the guide. In fact, you only need an eight out of ten to pass—which has frightening implications for the state of ethics here—but you read it like you’re studying for the MCAT.

The section on dating in the workplace is a single paragraph. Should two employees engage in a romantic relationship, it says, it must be reported to HR. It also says that a manager dating a direct subordinate is grounds for termination.

You hail Henry over to your computer and show him the company policy on dating. Any other person would see how obvious you’re being. Not Henry. Henry says, “The ethics guide is a CYA document.”

He uses that acronym a lot. It means Cover Your Ass. More specifically, it means to analyze all documentation from the perspective of the documenting party, whose goal is, above all things, to avoid a lawsuit. And in the event of a lawsuit, to avoid losing it.

“Look,” he says, pointing at your monitor, bent over your shoulder as you sit in your desk chair, so close you can smell him. He smells so good it makes you angry. “It says you have to report it. It doesn’t say what happens after you report it. That means the decision moves to the manager of the employees in a relationship. Then HR can wipe their hands clean of it, and the manager can fire both employees, citing that a potential breakup would create a hostile team environment.” He points to the next sentence about managers and subordinates. “It says ‘eligible for termination,’ but it doesn’t say who gets terminated. Again, probably both.”

You look up at him. “So we really can’t date?”

Given his lack of a reaction, he seems to take your “we” to mean all employees of the company.

“It’s unprofessional.”

Every day the stakes grow higher. You study Henry, in part, thinking that if you dig deep enough you will find nothing, you will discover he is like all the rest, boring, bearing the sad burden of existence and merely passing the time until death. Watching television. Picking up a hobby. Sports. Disgusting.

You decide that you must first befriend Henry King. You have learned that people like talking about themselves, and for the most part they love being asked questions, because it is the status quo in the world to be self-interested. For all your faults, at least you are not self-interested. You’re very interested in others, and you’re so glad to be able to see this, in some ways, as a strength. You are at once perfect at everything but also somehow have no admirable qualities. You ask Henry King many questions and he tells you, simply, “I’m not answering that.”

You take a different tactic: you tell him about yourself. You try to be interesting. The cool stuff you learned in the classes you took, the drama of Candy’s vocational school love life. He listens and goes “uh huh.”

Next, you try to make him laugh. You are a funny person simply because, like all things, you’ve trained yourself to be. You have watched many hours of standup comedy and sketch shows. You’ve had the Kids in the Hall theme song stuck in your head for most of your life.

One day, you’re busy looking at a client file while returning to your desk and run into the cubicle wall. Henry King laughs at you. That’s a start.

After many months being his personal court jester, you conclude that Henry King exists in the infinitesimal Venn diagram overlap between having a dry sense of humor and being totally unable to understand sarcasm.

You’ve been looking forward to your first annual review, seeing evidence of your excellence. You’ve spent this past year learning quickly, working hard. You work through lunch sometimes. You arrive early and stay late. You take on as many deals as you can, some weeks more than Henry. You make sure everyone on the team gets a card and a cake for their birthday. Finally, you enter Jerry’s office with a notebook and a smile.

Fifteen minutes later, you return to your cubicle with a single sheet of paper marking you adequate. In every category, you “meet expectations.” No raise. No bonus. No promotion.

Henry has a bad habit of offering hard truths in a way that is not at all gentle. “Look,” he says when you slump down into your desk chair. When he begins a sentence with “look,” you know you’re about to hear something horrible. “You’ll never get an A at work.”

He goes on to tell you the worst of all truths—that banks thrive on inefficiency and hard work is rewarded with only more work. And if you do too much work, employees will start to get fired, because it’s clear the workload isn’t high enough to justify paying so many people. You’ll also set a new standard for yourself, and if you set that standard too high, if you burn out and stop meeting it, you’re the one who’s going to get fired. The only reward you’ll ever receive is the privilege of returning to work the next day.

To prove it, he pulls a manila folder out of his desk cabinet and hands it to you. You open it. Inside you find eleven identical sheets, each one declaring Henry has met expectations for the year, each signed off by the revolving door of bookrunners.

He’s the hardest worker you’ve ever known. You have a crush on him, sure, but even if you didn’t, you would still admire him. He’s diligent and patient, level-headed. He’s at least as smart as you, if not more. In every way, Henry King has exceeded your expectations.

After work that day, you cry in your car. You haven’t cried since the time you watched Lacey torture a squirrel, and you witness it with interest and confusion. You’re not crying; crying is happening to you. Henry passes your car on the way to his. He pretends not to notice.

The next day, he asks you to lunch. You tell him no thanks. He does what you do: leans on your desk and stares at you for so long that you can’t ignore him, which is actually super annoying. You can’t believe he tolerates you. And since you’ve never taken no for an answer, neither does he.

“I’ll pick you up and carry you out of here,” he says, nudging your shoulder. You’re always touching him but this is the first time he has touched you. Your face feels very hot.

You enjoy the thought of him picking you up and carrying you. You like how big and strong he is, even though he doesn’t seem to know that about himself, like a giant dog that thinks it can sleep in your lap without crushing you.

He might be flirting with you. You’ve never actually been flirted with. You go to the copier to get your printouts. They’re still printing. Suddenly you’re swept up into his arms. You yelp.

“Put me down,” you say.

“Not until you agree to go to lunch with me.”

He holds you like you’re no heavier than a big client file. You know you’ll get in trouble if anyone sees you, but everyone’s at lunch. He takes you to the elevators.

“Okay, okay,” you say. “We’ll get pizza.”

At lunch, in a roundabout, somewhat evasive way, he tells you what a good job you’ve been doing and that he appreciates your hard work.

“Thank you,” you tell him, choking up but refusing to cry in front of him. “I really look up to you, so that means a lot.”

A silence follows that would be awkward to anyone else, but you understand that Henry needs these occasional pauses. For him, silence is not something that stretches across time but must be carved into it. He makes spaces for feeling, for thinking, for simply being in the company of someone else.

These traits make your crush grow to unwieldy proportions, but after a year of trying to get his attention, you’re still just a plucky young apprentice to him. You don’t know anything about him. You’re close to giving up and you’re shocked by how badly that hurts. A boy you like doesn't like you. Your broken-heartedness is so clichéd, so conventional, so boring, and yet it’s the worst thing you’ve ever felt.

One day, you tell Henry a story about a high school friend, nameless, and he says, “Wait, is this Michelle or someone else?”

You stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk. He listens. He’s been listening.

“Yes,” you say, “it’s Michelle.”

Another time, waiting for a table at lunch, you accidentally stand in the path of someone making their way to the host station. Henry puts a hand on your lower back and guides you closer to him, out of the way.

Every once in a while, he plucks stray hairs that cling to your wool coat.

A new thing begins to grow, so nebulous and strange you don’t at first allow yourself to acknowledge it. Over time, it becomes too big to ignore, and finally you look right at it:

You love Henry King.

You no longer just want his attention, you want him to touch you, curl up on the couch with you and watch TV each night, have children with you, grow old and die with you. It’s disorienting to know something in your head immediately but not actually feel it until a year later. You wonder what other things you have only thought but not felt. You wonder how long you have confused thinking for feeling.

#ask game #skinless

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imakemywings · 6 months ago

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i hope you don't mind me asking, but i'm genuinely curious about how you perceive curufin and celebrimbor's relationship, like from aman to beleriand. honestly, every iteration of their bond, whether it's generational trauma (tough love) or the loving father-son is wonderful (and painful) because, for me, both fit them so much. sorry, i just love exploring their interactions (especially celebrimbor's relationship with his other uncles as well), they have me in a chokehold.

Don't apologize for giving me an excuse to talk about Elves, this is the Talking About Elves blog! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

This is a juicy question! I am obsessed with family dynamics, so I always love considering things like this. First off, I think via canon there are almost infinite ways to interpret this relationship prior to Curufin's exile from Nargothrond. Some are, for me, more believable than others--for instance, I simply struggle to buy Curufin, son of Feanor, as a lovey-dovey father, but there's nothing in the text that strictly refutes it.

I think to start I need to talk briefly about Curufin's relationship with Feanor, because I think he tries (with varying degrees of success) to model much of what he does off of Feanor.

I think Curufin hero-worshipped Feanor growing up, and that didn't really change much into adulthood. He even went into his father's craft, the only one of Feanor's sons noted to do so. He looked a lot like Feanor, he followed his father's footsteps in career, and yet--we never hear of a single noteworthy invention or artistic piece of his. Curufin's name is on nothing. Feanor's inventions require an encyclopedia, and Celebrimbor's work survives well into the Third Age (and arguably into the Fourth), but Curufin? Nada.

And I think Feanor was a very difficult father. I don't want to get in here about whether he was a good father or not because this ask isn't about him, but I do think he was a demanding father. He was brilliant and incredibly driven, and I think he expected a lot from his sons. Add to that that he had seven kids and only so much attention to go around, and the best way to get his attention growing up was to have an achievement. Therefore, I think all seven of them developed some sense of needing to earn dad's attention.

All of this collectively to me ends with Curufin trying very hard to replicate Feanor, but not doing a very good job. Ergo, he was incredibly demanding on Celebrimbor, believing that the best way to handle a child was to raise them to exacting standards, tiger-mom style. But Celebrimbor is a very different person than Curufin, and would have thrived a lot more under a gentler hand. Nevertheless, I think he did try hard to live up to his father's standards--it's just that Curufin could actually end up being harsher than Feanor, which means Celebrimbor actually got less from his father than Curufin got from Feanor. There's also the element of Curufin wanting to use his son to impress his dad, which didn't help (still after daddy's attention after all).

I do think Celebrimbor bought pretty hard into the Feanorian Kool-Aid generally though. He was raised among people who were increasingly fanatical; it makes sense to me that he shared their mindset, because it was the one that surrounded him his whole youth. I think he was all on-board with the revolt of the Noldor, but I think the kinslaying at Alqualonde really gave him second thoughts.

Curufin, I think, has and develops a much more "the ends justify the means" attitude, as well as embracing the Feanorians' descent into darkness a lot quicker than, say, Maglor. But Celebrimbor doesn't quite. I think Alqualonde unsettles him quite a lot, as much as he tells himself it was a mistake, an accident, something that will never happen again.

So he lives with Celegorm and Curufin and busies himself making a life in Middle-earth. By this point in his life, I think Celebrimbor has grown to regret choosing smithing and jewel-craft as a focus, because he can't help but wonder if Curufin would be less strict if he'd gone into some field Curufin didn't really know anything about, which wasn't related at all to late granddad Feanor. (He also wonders if spending less time together wouldn't be better for his and Curufin's relationship.)

And then they go to Nargothrond.

More background: I do not think Celegorm and Curufin, the latter especially, like Finrod. I think generally the Feanorians find the Arafinweans preachy and sanctimonious, and very annoying. So having to go to him to ask for shelter and charity is incredibly grating on Curufin, and liable to make him particularly nasty to Finrod even as he's getting help from him.

However, Celebrimbor thinks Finrod is a delight! Finrod is so much that Curufin is not: cheerful, optimistic, gentle, quick to praise and slow to anger. And he loves playing the uncle, so he's more than happy to take Celebrimbor under his wing a bit and get him settled in Nargothrond. In turn, Celebrimbor warms right up to him and is eager to show Finrod anything he's working on, because Finrod will find something nice to say about even his worst projects. Celebrimbor thrives in an encouraging atmosphere, and he gets from Finrod what he always wanted from Curufin. It has the effect of rousing some old childhood resentment about his dad's seeming inability to be nicer.

Curufin does not approve of Celebrimbor getting "too close" to Finrod. He gets nastier in response.

I think Celebrimbor disapproved of his father and uncle's behavior long before they were officially exiled. I think watching Curufin interact with Finrod revealed to Celebrimbor things about his father he had never wanted to know, like how petty and childish and cruel Curufin can be. And I think Celebrimbor was embarrassed to watch his father behave this way towards someone who had been so generous with them, even in spite of his rocky past relationship with Curufin.

So I think even before Beren showed up, Celebrimbor was reconsidering his relationship with Curufin, and while I think he kept a lot of these thoughts to himself as he was mulling it over, there was chafing in that relationship, but Curufin blamed Finrod and didn't take it seriously.

So when Curufin supports Celegorm in turning Nargothrond against Finrod and sending him out to certain death, after everything Finrod had done for them, I think Celebrimbor was not only horrified, he grieved. He loved Finrod! And I think he was disgusted that Curufin would support Celegorm's plan to force Luthien to marry him, and that they lied to her and imprisoned her.

The events of Nargothrond revealed just how low Curufin could go (and ofc it does get worse later, with the Second Kinslaying and the additional attempts to murder Beren and Luthien) and Celebrimbor realized that far from repenting for the First Kinslaying, Curufin seemed even less moored to any kind of moral code. So I think here he realized he simply could not go along with his father or his uncle anymore. At some point you have to ask yourself about the kind of people you want to surround yourself with, and I think Celebrimbor wanted nothing to do with them anymore. I think it hurt him, to think people he loved were those sorts of people, and I think he was crushingly disappointed in both of them, but particularly after Finrod's grisly death (along with the Elves who had stuck by his side), I think Celebrimbor simply could not justify standing by Curufin's side anymore, and the fact that Curufin never expressed any regret for what he had done contributed to that.

Feanorians barred from rebirth etc. but even if they were not, I do not believe a reborn Celebrimbor has a lot to say to his paternal family. He watched them only get worse from the point where he had disowned them, and I think by the time they're all gone, they disgust and horrify him so much that he really does not want to interact with them at all. I think he would go full no-contact if they were ever around each other again, and at best might accept a profuse apology for all the things they did. Even if they were committed to being better, at that point I'm just not sure there's any relationship there left to rebuild. I think they burned that bridge with him and there's no building it back. Civil distance is as much as they can probably hope for.

So yeah, these are my general baseline thoughts on it!

#asks #starlitelwing #celebrimbor #curufin #the silmarillion #tolkien tag

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year ago

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2023 Character Wrapped

@geralts-yenn and @raccoon-eyed-rebel tagged me to talk about my favorite characters. And well, this is just too good not to pass up. So, join me, won't you?

Let's rank my favorite characters! (Based on # of times I have written them).

Under the cut to keep my ramblings off your dashboard...but you just know there are bunch of Henry Cavill-shaped bitches under this cut.

But, in what order??

Alright, let's get this party started with...

Walter Marshall - Night Hunter

I feel like this is absolutely no surprise that I've written the most for this grumpy bear. But, I just call him Daddy. Whether he be touch-starved, an enemy turned lover, falling in love like a love-sick puppy, taking a little "me time" for himself, or being the goodest boy as werewolf Wolfie. Even wrote a headcanon about his hobbies.

2. Clark Kent - Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League

I have loved the character of Clark Kent since I was a little thing, I'm obsessed with curly-haired nerds. Clark also is the only character I have written "fluff" for, be it praising what you think are flaws or surprising you for your birthday. I have written him as a Sub and as a Dom (in my only work that has surpassed 1k notes).

3. August Walker - Mission: Impossible - Fallout

I've never written August as the good guy, and there is a reason for that. In my head, he's the life-ruiner. He can be sweet (to you), but odds are he just killed a guy because the guy looked at you for longer than a second. I've written August as a pissed-off Dom who was sick of being interrupted, a very bad Daddy, and an Uncle who takes advantage of his nephew's girlfriend here(original) and here(director's cut).

4. Captain Syverson - Sand Castle

Oh, Syverson. My baby don't even got a dayum first name and he's popular. I've written him confronting a lover during a post-apocalyptic pregnancy realization, and as a married father-to be getting his beard trimmed and talking to his unborn daughter. He's also featured in my Werewolf!Walter Marshall story, and that's all I'll say about that. (Also, I've been referring to him as James Syverson in every iteration of the character that I have written for - I think.)

5. Mike - Hellraiser: Hellworld

My sweet baby boy. He is a guilty pleasure. I gave him a full series where he finds love and has quite the cast of characters as his family. But, technically, I only wrote the series because of what happened here and here, when his naughty Uncle slept with his girlfriend.

6. Napoleon Solo - The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

He's just so fucking sexy. I love him, your honor. He's been a suave and sexy older man wooing a young student over a good meal, and also started a series where he was falling hard for a woman in his apartment building (still in the early stages and I promise @deandoesthingstome that I will get back to this series).

7. Sherlock Holmes - Enola Holmes series

I have also loved Sherlock Holmes since I was a little kid. I thought he was the coolest person ever, but he's a curly-haired nerd so of course I loved him. I love when Sherlock is in love, whether he is ignoring his bratty wife until he takes matters into his own hands, or if he is having trouble coming to terms with new love.

8. Charles Brandon - The Tudors

This little shit. This redeeemable, sexy, fucking slut. I love him. I've only written him once, and it was a request! But, I enjoyed it. I loved writing him getting teased sexually and then taking control of the situation. So hot.

9. Humphrey - Stardust

Ok, not actually a fan of Humphrey, I've just written him. And that was all thanks to @sillyrabbit81's milestone celebration at the beginning of this year. This fic is kind of a weird egg, just, go with me though. The plot is: you and Humphrey are step-siblings who end up getting a little...involved. I'm not sorry for the title of this fic.

And to our last entry, the only non-HC character...

10. Lloyd Hansen - The Gray Man

What can I say? If I had the means, and I guess I really do but whatever, I would rank this man at #2 above Clark Kent. Because Lloyd-excuse me...Sir is one of my all-time favorites. I've included him inside larger stories as a bit player, see Bright Like the Moon (where he plays a bad man later in the series). But, I also wanted him to have his own show where he was the star, so I had him stalk and kidnap a girl and tie her up in the basement and call her Sunshine. I also wrote a little headcanon about his family, quirks, hobbies and his sleeping habits.

TL;DR: Walter Marshall is Daddy, Lloyd Hansen is Sir. And I need to finish one series before starting another. Maybe I will work on that. *snort*

I have written for a lot of characters, and I'm not gonna stop. I really wanna write so much more and my WIP folder is literally overflowing with things. I just started a new fic like the day I posted the most recent chapter of THiCC. What am I doing??

No pressure tags: @cardierreh15 @milknhonies @halfofmysoulsblog @xblackreader @xsapphirescrollsx

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