#maybe not with April but I’m not good at humans

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 17: FORCE OF NATURE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, vaginal sex, rough sex, prone-bone, dubcon

ੈ✩ wc: 6.9k

ੈ✩ a/n: there's your dinner

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2010

When Suguru fucks you, lately, he’s gentle.

It’s only slightly unlike him. He’s often pent-up from missions, the same way that Satoru is, but the need instilled in him is different. Quieter. You can’t encapsulate it in words — it’s all feeling.

You think that maybe this is the reason that you sometimes favor him. It makes you feel guilty. Beyond all of Satoru’s faults and flaws, you know that he loves you. It all comes out in jagged, messy ways, but he does.

Being with Suguru alone feels… simpler. There is nothing unkempt about him. Every time he needs you, he never begs. It’s often the other way around.

It’s easy for you to be pliable for him with just a few words. Conversations that make you feel larger than life, faint touches that have your skin shivering. He makes you feel like a girl. Desperate and easily enraptured.

While Satoru is loud and talkative, Suguru is reserved and magnetizing. There are moments in between classes when he takes your hand and lies with you in the grass, sharing soft-spoken jokes and murmurs. There’s always something guarding his mind. You can tell. It only makes you want to pry even more, but Suguru is good at deflecting.

You’d be content to share a bed with him and simply stare at his face for hours. Sometimes, you’re with Satoru and you yearn for that. The things that Satoru babbles on about go through one ear and out the other. His energy is always frenetic whereas yours is starting to feel lethargic.

__

Through early April, cherry blossoms begin to fall, coating the grounds of Jujutsu Tech in a soft pink blanket. You’re surrounded in heaven wherever you are.

Satoru is bombarded with solo missions. Meanwhile, your company is kept with Suguru, who sleeps in your bed with you most nights.

At the moment, you’re tangled with him. The moonlight casts a silvery glow across his features. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look human to you. You could swear that he was sent to Earth as a being born from the stars. You feel pathetic and corny even thinking about it.

Despite being wrapped up in you, his eyes are distant, focused on something beyond the confines of the room. Beyond your reach. Aside from the chorus of cicadas outside, silence stretches between you.

“Suguru,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

He turns to you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Nothing important," he murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

You're not satisfied with this answer. It's always like this lately - his thoughts locked away behind an impenetrable wall. You sit up, pulling the sheet around you, frustration bubbling up in your chest. The tenderness of moments before evaporates, replaced by a tension that crackles between you like static electricity.

“You’re clearly thinking about something.”

“I’m not,” he answers softly. “Just you. Just thinking about how pretty you are.”

You sigh. “That’s all?”

He gives you a smug grin. “You don’t like being told you’re pretty?”

“I do. Maybe I just want to pick your brain sometimes. Rummage inside of it like a treasure chest.”

He scoffs. “Just because Satoru says everything that’s on his mind doesn’t mean I have to.”

Your face flickers with disappointment at his tone. He probably didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it came out more curt than you expected.

“Don’t you tell him everything on your mind, though?”

“Sometimes, I guess. He’s my best friend.”

Then what am I?

You almost say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you ask. “He hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“Shocker,” Suguru replies, a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue. You frown slightly.

“He always answers.”

“He’s also the strongest,” he snorts. “Can’t always dote on his little wifey, can he?”

“What?”

His smirk falters slightly. “I’m just kidding, baby,” he says softly, kissing your nose. “He’s probably busy or he doesn’t have service.”

“Are you two fighting again?” you blurt out.

Suguru raises a brow in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I just know that sometimes the two of you argue. And you know, the bruises—”

“The ones from sparring or the ones from sex?”

You’re quiet. Both, you want to say. But then it occurs to you that none of it is particularly your business.

It was always difficult to tell where you stood between the two of them. It was as if you were on a constant current, buoying towards rough waters where you didn’t belong.

“I— um. I don’t know. I just noticed things have been… tense.”

He stares at you blankly. “Things are fine.”

“Are they?” You have the urge to ask him a million questions. Was everything fine? Between him and Satoru, you felt like a thinning rope in a tug of war, but always unsure of who was pulling harder.

“You just seem, I don’t know… off lately,” you continue, mumbling. “I can’t help but wonder if something’s bothering you.”

He pauses before speaking again. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

He rolls his eyes and it guts you more than it should. “Just a lot. There’s more cursed user activity, more grueling missions. I’ll probably get assigned more soon.”

“You’re doing it again. Deflecting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re just—” you sigh, “You're always... guarded. I feel like there's a part of you I can't reach.”

Suguru's expression remains impassive, but you notice the slight tightening of his jaw. He sits up as well, his bare chest gleaming in the dim light. "I've given you all of me that I can."

"Don't do that," you say, your voice sharper than you intend. "Don't brush me off."

"I'm not brushing you off. You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re expecting me to spill all my thoughts like you’re my therapist. Or are you feeling insecure and you want some grand romantic gesture from me? There’s nothing to say either way.”

You blink at him rapidly, hurt by his assumptions.

"I’m not expecting anything," you insist, frustration mounting. "I just… I feel like I barely know you sometimes. I just want to know what’s on your mind.”

“Maybe you won’t understand what’s on my mind,” he mutters. “If I can even put it into words. It’s okay to have different minds, you know. Different world views.”

Your face stings as if he’d just insulted you. You stare at the ceiling. What the hell did that mean? Did he keep things from you because he thought you wouldn’t understand? Did he think you were stupid?

“Okay,” you murmur weakly. “Whatever.”

__

March, 2012

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom again. Their delicate petals drift on the breeze through the window. Whispers of a forgotten spring. The change of the seasons whips you in the face— it had been so cold only a month prior.

You’re glad about it, anyway. February was always brutal. The passing of the 3rd had been awkward— unlike last year, neither you nor Satoru acknowledged the day at all, though you had danced around it as if Suguru’s ghost was following you.

You had flinched all day whenever Satoru spoke to you, as if paranoid he could read your mind.

He’d bombarded your thoughts, reminding you of the last birthday you spent with him. His face when he’d looked through the photo album you’d given him. The way he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

Selfishly, you hope Suguru still has the photos. An awful part of you even hopes he still looks at them. You wish you’d kept some of them for yourself.

It was a stupid idea not to make copies. At the time, you considered making some to keep for yourself and to give to Satoru, but the keepsake you made for Suguru’s birthday felt like a secret just between them. Satoru hadn’t even thought to inquire about the photos you took anyway.

Often, you imagine them scattered on your walls, the boys teasing you as you decorated. Reminiscing your teenage years together, both of them laughing and joking around at the antics you’d been able to capture.

You make a mental note to purchase another disposable camera again. Satoru’s apartment could use more photographs, and the kids would get a kick out of it. You still haven’t moved in with him, to his chagrin, but you enjoy having your own space despite his qualms about it. It’s the one thing you have to yourself, even if he does pay your rent.

You sit alone on the balcony, a cup of lukewarm tea cradled in your hands, and you think of yourself from one year ago.

There’s a bittersweet ache in your chest. You can’t help but think of a certain dark-haired sorcerer that occupied so much of your time at Jujutsu Tech.

The world changed in his absence— the air heavier, charged with an undercurrent of tension that still hasn’t dissipated. In your head, Suguru Geto is a fleeting memory. A passing dream.

But there are moments when you feel the warmth of his body next to yours. The timbre of his voice. The intensity of his eyes when he looked at you as if he was seeing through you.

You shake the thoughts of him away as you dump your tea and make your way to the school. You have the greenhouse to yourself today.

It feels odd to walk around Jujutsu Tech without the presence of two shadows on either side of you. The slight breeze whips your hair and it makes you think of them — how Suguru would often tuck a flyaway back for you while Satoru would tug at your braid.

Stop thinking about it, you chastise yourself. He’s not dead.

Or maybe he was?

You aren’t sure if a year and a half feels too little or too long. There are dreams you have about crossing paths with Suguru— a raven-haired stranger in the night, a fleeting text message from an unknown number. When you overthink like this, it’s difficult to tell how much you really knew him at all. Were you important enough to even get in contact with again?

Something twists in your stomach when you think about the same hypothetical of Satoru. You think that maybe he would contact Satoru again. Maybe.

You weren’t there for the end. You hadn’t seen them fight, could barely imagine the thought of a tear-stricken, twenty-year-old Satoru begging Suguru for anything. Had they lashed out at each other? Had they said anything about you?

You pause in your work, hands hovering over a delicate orchid. Your insecurities flood back unbidden, vivid, and painful.

The nights you spent alone with Suguru replay in your mind. His guarded expression, the palpable tension between you. If only you'd pushed harder, tried to break through those walls. Maybe things would have been different.

But you didn't. And now he's gone.

A shadow falls across you, and for a moment, you think it's just another cloud passing overhead. But then you feel it - a presence that makes the air around you hum with an electric charge.

A sharp prick of pain jolts you from your reverie. You've pricked your finger on a thorn, a bead of blood welling up. You watch it for a moment, mesmerized by the crimson against your skin.

"Careful there," a familiar voice calls out. "Can't have you bleeding all over the plants."

You turn to see Satoru leaning against the greenhouse door, his presence filling the space as it always does.

"Hey," you say softly. "I thought you had a mission today."

He shrugs, sauntering over to you. "I do, but I wanted to stop by first. Thought I'd surprise you."

There's an awkward beat of silence as he stands beside you, both of you pretending to examine the flowers. You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

"You were thinking about him again, weren't you?" Satoru's voice is quiet, lacking its usual bravado.

You don't answer immediately, unsure how to navigate this minefield. "I... it's hard not to sometimes," you admit finally. "Especially here."

Satoru nods, his face inscrutable. "Yeah. I get that."

Another silence stretches between you. You desperately want to ask him about that day, about what really happened. But you're afraid of the answer, afraid of reopening wounds that have barely begun to heal.

"Do you ever wonder..." you begin hesitantly, "if things could have been different? If we'd seen the signs earlier, or—”

“Twigs,” Satoru cuts you off sharply.

You flinch at his tone. “Sorry.”

His expression softens. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his.

"No, I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just... I can't think about the what-ifs. It's too much."

You nod slowly. Neither of you really talked about Suguru since he left. It was easier to pretend, to go on as if the gaping hole he left behind didn't exist.

"Do you think he's okay?" you whisper, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at you for months.

Satoru's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "He's alive. I'd know if he wasn't."

You nod, not quite sure if you believe him or if he even believes himself.

He sighs, pulling you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and for just a moment, you let yourself be comforted by his presence.

But as you stand there in Satoru's arms, surrounded by the falling cherry blossoms, you can't shake the feeling that something is still missing. That maybe it always will be.

April, 2012

You fumble with your keys, exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs. The thought of going home to your apartment fills you with dread. You’d gotten into a squabble with Satoru again – asked too many questions about Suguru, your heart flooded with nostalgia.

He wanted to be patient with you, but you were childishly bitter.

As you push open the door, something feels... off. The air inside is charged, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart begins to race as you cautiously step inside, eyes scanning the darkened room.

"Twigs."

The voice, smooth as silk and familiar, cuts through the silence. You gasp as you whirl around, eyes wide with disbelief.

There, leaning against the wall with an air of casual elegance, is Suguru Geto.

He looks different, yet achingly the same. His hair is longer now, cascading over his shoulders in inky waves. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now hold a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. But his smile, that infuriatingly beautiful smile, is exactly as you remember it.

"Suguru," you breathe, barely able to form the word. "How... why are you here?"

He pushes off the wall, moving towards you with fluid grace. "I missed you," he purrs.

Your mind reels, a thousand questions fighting to be asked. But as he draws closer, all you can focus on is the familiar scent of him - sandalwood and something uniquely Suguru. It makes your head spin.

"You can't be here," you whisper, even as your traitorous body leans towards him. "If Satoru finds out–"

"Satoru won't find out," Suguru interrupts, his voice low and soothing. He reaches out, fingers ghosting along your cheek. "I've made sure of that."

You should pull away. You should tell him to leave. But instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering.

"I've thought about you every day," Suguru murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "Have you thought about me?"

"Yes," you admit, the word escaping before you can stop it. "God, yes."

His lips curve into a smile against your skin. "Show me," he whispers.

And just like that, the floodgates open. You crash into him, your lips meeting in a desperate, hungry kiss. It's like coming home and setting yourself on fire all at once. His hands are everywhere, relearning the curves of your body as you cling to him.

You stumble backward, not breaking the kiss until your back hits the wall. Suguru presses against you, his body solid and warm. You gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

When he coos into your ear, it is not his voice, but Satoru’s.

“Twigs.”

Your eyes open abruptly. Sweat trickles down the nape of your neck as you stare into the space of your dark bedroom. Despite hearing Satoru’s voice, he’s nowhere to be found.

You exhale shakily in embarrassment, at how easily the guilt knocked you out of your slumber. 

With trembling hands, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and let them dangle for a moment, grounding yourself in reality. The remnants of the dream still swirl around in your mind like fractals. You blink against the dimness, peeling away from the haze left by sleep.

The gentle hum of silence fills your apartment as you push yourself up to stand on slightly unsteady legs. Each step you take feels heavier than the last; gravity pulling differently somehow.

You feel… odd. You decide to blame it on the unwanted arousal.

When you enter the small kitchen, you distract yourself with your kettle and scan your surroundings blankly. Pastel tiles — faded yet inviting. Drawings on the fridge from the Fushiguro children.

As you wait for the water to boil, you feel a sense of unease — the very same you felt when encountering a curse, though the after-effects of arousal in your body have your stomach curling inside out. Everything is too quiet and too dark.

You hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, relying on a small nightlight plugged in below your cabinets. You turn to peer into your living room but there’s nothing there.

As you slowly turn your head back to the kitchen, your breath catches in your throat at the silhouette in front of you. The shadow, darker than the surrounding night, detaches itself from the wall. Your heart leaps into your throat, cursed energy crackling at your fingertips instinctively.

But then the figure steps into the moonlight, and your breath catches.

Suguru.

He looks different – thinner, harder somehow. His hair is longer, tied back loosely, and there's a weariness in his eyes that wasn't there before. But it's undeniably him.

He wears a large, black gojo-kesa with yellow and green details. He looks like a dream come to life. He's changed, but he's still breathtakingly beautiful, like a fallen angel come to Earth.

"I’m sorry," he says softly, his voice carrying the same gentle cadence you remember, but now tinged with something darker. "I didn’t mean to scare you."

You want to run. You want to scream. You want to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to explain why he left, why he turned his back on everything– on you. Instead, you remain frozen, your mug trembling in your grasp.

Suguru takes a step closer, and you can see the details of his face more clearly now. You instinctively take a step back, and something flickers in his eyes – hurt, perhaps, or amusement. It's hard to tell with Suguru.

"May I sit?" he asks, gesturing to the space in front of you where your small kitchen table stands.

You nod mutely, unable to form words. He settles next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. You smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and something metallic. Blood?

For a long moment, neither of you speak. You continue to drink in the sight of him. He looks out of place in your small apartment, too large and too otherworldly for the mundane space.

"Why are you here?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to see you," he says simply, as if it explains everything. As if he hadn't abandoned everything– abandoned you and Satoru – over a year ago.

You take an involuntary step back, your mind reeling. "But you left. You've been gone for over a year. We thought... I thought..."

"That I was dead?" He smirks, but there's no humor in it. "Not quite. Though I suppose in some ways, the person you knew did die."

You scoff, clutching the countertop behind you.

"Why now?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

“This isn’t the first time, exactly.”

You don’t even want to ask what he means.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion and longing that threatens to overwhelm you. "You can't be here. Satoru will come back from his mission—"

Suguru's eyes darken at the mention of Satoru's name. "Ah yes, Satoru," he says, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Always Satoru."

You feel a pang of guilt but push it aside. "Suguru, I—"

He cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. "No need to explain.”

A heavy silence falls between you, filled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. You watch as Suguru's gaze drifts to the falling cherry blossoms against the velvet sky outside the window, his expression unreadable.

You sniff. “I thought you were dead at first,” you whisper. “But you’re stronger than that. Always have been.”

“You were upset.”

“Of course I was! I—” you huff, looking away from him.

He turns to look at you fully now, his gaze intense. “You’re still upset.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“There was nothing you could do.”

You wince slightly. It was the same thing that Satoru told you during the fight you had. The one that overwhelmed you with anger, made you walk away. Heat curls within the delicate sternum of your chest. You’ve always been so fucking naive, haven’t you?

“I— I thought—” you trail off. You thought you could’ve done more.

“Would you have come with me?” he murmurs.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications. You open your mouth to respond but find you have no answer. Would you have gone with him? Left everything behind?

Satoru’s face flashes in your mind.

Suguru seems to read the conflict on your face. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. The touch is feather-light, but it sends electricity coursing through your body.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," he says, his voice low and soothing. "I just... needed to see you. To make sure you were alright."

You lean into his touch despite yourself, closing your eyes briefly. When you open them again, Suguru's face is closer, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you?" he asks. "Alright?"

The question catches you off guard. Are you alright? You've been going through the motions for months now, smiling when expected, and fulfilling your duties. But alright? You're not sure you even remember what that feels like anymore.

"I'm... managing," you reply honestly.

“I missed you,” he sighs. “You have to believe that.”

You want to believe him. God, how you want to. But the pain of his absence, the confusion and betrayal, it all comes rushing back.

"Do you remember our last spring together?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft and wistful. "How we'd lie in the grass for hours, talking about everything and nothing?"

The memory washes over you, bittersweet and painful. "Of course I do," you whisper.

Suguru turns to you, his eyes intense. "I've thought about those moments every day since I left. About you. About the choices I've made."

Your heart races, torn between longing and fear. "Why did you leave?" you ask, the question that's haunted you for over a year finally escaping your lips.

He's quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I… realized Jujutsu society was deeply flawed. I had to act, even if it meant leaving everything behind."

There's a gravity to his words that sends a chill down your spine. "What do you mean?" you whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Suguru's eyes darken, and for a moment you see a flicker of something dangerous, something that wasn't there before. 

"Our world is rotting from the inside out," he says, his voice low and intense. "The higher-ups, the clans, even Jujutsu Tech– they're all part of a system that perpetuates suffering. I couldn't stand by and watch anymore."

His intensity startles you. This isn't the gentle, thoughtful Suguru you remember. There's an edge to him now, a darkness that both frightens and intrigues you.

You shake your head, struggling to process his words. "But... but we help people. We protect them from curses."

"Do we?" Suguru asks, his tone sharp. "Or do we simply maintain a status quo that allows curses to flourish in the first place? Think about it. The more negative emotions in the world, the more curses are born. And what creates those negative emotions? Inequality, injustice, pain– all things that the Jujutsu world turns a blind eye to."

His words stir something inside you, a doubt you've tried to ignore. You think of the missions you've been on, the people you've helped, but also the ones you couldn't save. The systemic issues seemed to persist no matter how many curses you exorcised.

“I’m— I’m not going to be one of your followers,” you say, your voice cracking. You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you to be,” he replies coolly. His presence makes you heady with the familiarity of his spell.

“Then why are you here?” You try to sound firm but your voice is barely above a whisper. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“You must know me better than that. You think I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

Your heart jumps at the same time your blood runs cold. You’re almost thrilled that he sought you out, but it couldn’t be like this.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen. The touch is gentle. Familiar. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lean into it and preen into his touch like you always have.

“I did miss you, you know. Don’t think that I didn’t,” he drawls. Suguru’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of the boy you once knew. “My favorite girl.”

You close your eyes, allowing hot tears to run down your face. The liquid salt cascades in warm streams on your skin.

Suguru's words hang in the air, a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and unspoken longing. You feel the weight of his gaze on you, even with your eyes closed. His thumb brushes another tear from your cheek, the touch achingly tender.

"Twigs," he murmurs, the old nickname rolling off his tongue like honey. "Look at me."

You hesitate, afraid of what you'll see in his eyes, afraid of your own heart's treacherous desires. But you've never been able to resist him, not really. Slowly, you open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze.

He's closer now, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark irises. His breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "You have to know that."

"But you did," you whisper, your voice cracking. "You left. Without a word, without an explanation. You left me and Satoru and everything we'd built together. I–”

I loved you. We loved you.

Suguru's jaw clenches at the mention of Satoru.

"I couldn't stay. Not after everything I learned, everything I saw. It would have been a lie."

You shake your head, anger and hurt rising in your chest. "And this isn't a lie? Sneaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, touching me like nothing has changed?"

"Everything has changed," Suguru counters, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "The world is not what we thought it was. What I thought it was. I couldn't continue to be a part of a system I no longer believed in."

“You could’ve talked to Satoru and I—”

“If Satoru was in my position, it would be easy for him,” he snaps. “He’d find a way to get you to believe in him. You would probably find a reason anyway.”

“That’s not true!” your voice cracks. “He wouldn’t kill every non-sorcerer—”

“But he could, my sweet girl. You’re blinded by him. You’ve always seen him as a god, haven’t you?”

You shake your head desperately, pathetically. His words make you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt.

You feel the sting of Suguru's words, an accusation wrapped in a painful truth. Your relationship with Satoru has always been complex, the unspoken power dynamic frustrating you throughout the years. But to hear Suguru lay it bare, to twist it into something ugly– it feels like a knife to the heart.

“That’s not fair,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You know there’s more to him than that.”

Suguru's expression hardens, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "Satoru will never understand. He's too blinded by his own power, his own sense of righteousness. He can't see the world as it truly is."

You take a step back, shaking your head. "And you can? Suguru, listen to yourself. You wouldn’t—" You choke on the words, unable to say them out loud. "The Suguru I knew would never pick on the weak. He wouldn’t turn his back on—”

Suguru moves forward, closing the distance between you once again. His hand comes up to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the intensity of his gaze. 

"I haven't turned my back on you," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I could never do that. Don't you see? Everything I'm doing, it's for a better world. A world where we can be together without the chains of the Jujutsu society holding us back."

You stare at him, torn between the pull of his words and the screaming warnings in your head. This is wrong. This isn't the Suguru you knew, the gentle, thoughtful boy who held you under the cherry blossoms. But oh, how you want to believe him. How you want to sink into his touch and let the world fall away.

"Suguru..." you breathe, your resolve crumbling.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 

"Baby," he whispers, his voice a siren's call. "I know you. You’ve gotten stronger. You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met. I remember that mission in the forest, how you exhausted yourself. You’re so fucking powerful. Don’t you know you could be more than a pawn for the higher-ups? For Satoru?”

“Don’t,” you retort harshly. “I’m not a fucking pawn for anyone and I won’t be one for you.”

Suguru's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and admiration at your fiery response. He leans back slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "There she is," he murmurs, almost to himself. "That fire. That strength. That's the girl I remember."

You blink rapidly, caught off guard by his reaction. You expected anger, frustration, not this strange sense of pride.

He shakes his head, the smile fading. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that about Satoru. Old habits, I suppose." He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't come here to fight with you or to try to sway you to my side. I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” you mutter.

Suguru nods, a rueful smile on his lips. "I suppose I should leave before he comes back? He'd probably try to kill me on sight. Not that I'd blame him."

“He wouldn’t. He would never do that,” you say quickly.

The thought sends a chill through you. The idea of Suguru and Satoru, once inseparable, now on opposite sides of a war you don't fully understand.

“I won't ask you to keep this a secret," Suguru says, as if reading your thoughts. "I won't put you in that position. But I needed you to know...no matter what happens, no matter what you might hear about me, my feelings for you have never changed."

Your heart skips a beat. It's the closest he's ever come to a confession, to putting a name to the unspoken thing that's always simmered between you.

"Suguru..." you begin, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Don't," he says softly. "Don't say anything you might regret. I know where your heart lies, even if you don't fully realize it yourself yet."

He takes a step back, and you feel the loss of his proximity like a physical ache. "I should go," he murmurs.

You close your eyes, tears falling down your face. You don’t even sense his departure. He leaves as quietly as he entered.

__

Satoru is often needy when he comes back to you lately. He hopes to see in his bed, anyway, but doubts it considering your most recent argument he had with you.

It wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence if he found you there–  he often returns from his missions and finds you curled up in his bed. Despite your reservations, you’ve been staying in his room more often. After an intense video game session with the kids or a particularly intense night with him, you don’t bother to make the trip to your apartment downstairs.

In Satoru’s apartment, you have extra skincare products (he bought them) and a toothbrush (it had been sitting in the mug on his counter since you came back to Tokyo. Just in case.).

He comes home at an ungodly time. Nothing was open save for the local konbini and twenty-four diner, neither of which he had any options he wanted. There was no onigiri left, so he snacks on matcha pocky, knowing you’d scold him for it if you were awake.

His heart stops when he opens the door to his bedroom and sees you in his bed. But not just because of how beautiful you look in between his sheets, lit by soft hues by the moon.

But because he smells him.

Satoru can sense the cursed energy on your body. It’s like a perfume that doesn’t belong to your skin, yet he can feel it cling to you.

A rabbit hole opens in his brain, splitting into a black hole as he spirals. He’s been here, maybe in this apartment, and he’s touched you.

You twitch, your lips stuck in a cherubic pout. Satoru wants to bite you.

Selfishly, he does. Canine nipping at the junction of your shoulder. You stir and feel his arms tighten around you.

“Satoru?” you mumble, your voice soft and sleep-laced.

“It’s late,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

But you can’t, not with his teeth on your neck. He licks and kisses the back of your neck with an urgent cadence, almost with frustration. He grabs at your covers impatiently. He only rushes like this when something’s bothering him.

He’d woken you from such a heavy sleep that you’re still adjusting to being conscious. He feels as much as a dream as Suguru standing in your kitchen–

You freeze at the memory.

You make a noise of surprise when you feel his hardness prod at you from behind.

"Satoru," you breathe. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer, just presses himself closer, his hand sliding beneath your nightshirt. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine. But there's an edge to it, a desperation you haven’t felt from him since you were teenagers.

"Nothing," he murmurs against your skin, but his voice is tight. "I just need you."

You turn in his arms, facing him in the moonlight. His blue eyes are dark, stormy with an emotion you can't quite place. Jealousy? Fear?

"Tell me," you insist, cupping his face.

Satoru hesitates, his jaw clenching.

"Shitty mission,” he mutters. You know he’s lying.

“Satoru," you start, but he cuts you off with a bruising kiss. You imagine in combat, fighting curses with the same kind of aggression. The thought sours in your brain but warms the animal of your body. He felt the same as he did when he was nineteen.

His knuckles graze underneath your panties, the silver ring you’d given him cold against the skin of your inner thigh.

I have to get you a matching one now, he’d joked weeks prior. Then we’ll be engaged.

You knew without a doubt he was dead serious.

He bites your shoulder again and pushes you onto your stomach. Reflexively, you push your ass and feel his hard cock between the offending fabric of his boxers. When had he undressed?

“Please,” he breathes into your ear.

You don’t respond. You simply push down your underwear, already drenched from his jagged kisses. 

He grunts as he pushes into you. You wince at the thickness, stinging just barely from the lack of prep. His large hand pushes your shirt up from beneath you to grope at your tits. His other hand snakes in between your legs to rub at your puffy clit.

You gasp at how heavy he feels inside of you. Each snap of his hips feels harsher than the last.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about this,” Satoru mutters, as if to himself. “About fucking you.”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah? You missed my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you choke out.

“You sure? No one beat me to it, already?” His voice is slightly bitter, so low and buried in your shoulder blade that you almost don’t catch it.

Your eyes widen. You turn slightly to see his blue eyes nearly glowing in the moonlight, brows furrowed as he focuses on his hard thrusts.

“Satoru, I–”

“Wouldn’t blame him. I’d miss this cunt, too, if I was gone for a year and a half.”

“I–I didn’t—”

“Do you think about him when I’m inside you?” 

His face is scarily neutral even though he’s fucking you so rough. Each time he knocks into you, it takes your breath away, your pussy tightening at how impossibly deep he is.

“No,” you whimper.

“It’s okay if you do,” Satoru laughs bitterly. “I think about him too. Both of you.”

You moan softly as he lifts your hips and drives into you deeper.

“You thought I wouldn’t be able to smell him? Feel his residuals all over you?” he grunts. His teeth are bared as he fucks you. Sex-starved. Part animal, part god.

You don’t have it in you to respond. You can’t think of anything when he gets like this, the undulating motion of his cock molding your insides to him and him alone. 

He groans in pleasure, his hand a soft noose around your neck as he lifts you up by the chin. He turns your face over your shoulder so he can kiss you roughly, teeth on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all making you dizzy.

Your pussy constricts around him. You think you hear him laugh breathily. He presses down on your lower back at the same time you close your legs. He drives into you, your cunt tight and snug. 

Satoru coaxes a thumb in your mouth and it makes the thread of desire in your gut fray. It’s so close to snapping. You can feel yourself about to cum.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasps. “That’s it. Fuck.”

A whine is pulled from your throat when the pressure inside of you blows over. Your pussy constricts around him and his thrusts get rougher. Meaner. 

Your dry throat feels like it’s on fire, your body wrung out with tiredness and ecstasy all at once. He fills you to the brim, finally, cursing as he buries his face into your hair.

For a moment, the dark room is filled with exhales and nothing else. You wince when he pulls out of you. He sits on his knees and soothes a hand on your back underneath your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You turn to face him. “I liked it.”

“You know what I mean,” he swallows.

You nod slowly. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

“It wasn’t what you think.” Not a betrayal. Barely a rendezvous.

Satoru exhales, his mouth in a taut line. “Did he hurt you?”

Neither of you could say his name. It had always bothered you that Satoru would never say his name,

“No. You know he wouldn’t.”

“I know.”

You lick your lips nervously. “He said he missed me. And that he came to check on me. I asked him why he left.”

“And?”

“It was probably all the same stuff he told you.”

Satoru’s face stays eerily calm. “Alright.”

“You’re… not upset? Or mad?”

His face softens at how terrified you look. “No, baby. I’m not.”

Without a word, he goes to the bathroom. You lie on your back and stare at the ceiling. You feel sick, suddenly. As if something has shifted the atmosphere entirely.

You’re almost asleep when Satoru returns. He brings a warm towel in between your legs and kisses both of your knees. You keep your eyes closed– you can’t bear to look at his eyes right now.

He’s glad for it. You’re unable to tell that his eyes are a little red, soul-weary.

As he rests beside you, arm draped over your waist, you feel his warm breath on your neck whispering, “I love you.”

[seagull-scribbles]

They’re out of touch

[1/7] next>

[gregmarriage]

will always have to begrudgingly remember (and hate the fact) that one must find joy in the small things in life, and live in the present

[cupcakeslushie]

3am AU idea. As some of y’all might’ve seen, I’ve been doing a Buffyverse rewatch.

Now I’m thinking of an AU where we get to see our human characters shine. April as Buffy OBVIOUSLY. Kendra could be Willow. Casey or my Timothy either could be Xander, but Casey has her whole evil phase and she would also make a good Faith (also the gay Fuffy foil to the Capril pipeline is too good to pass up). Sunita could be Anya (they both have that Autism Queen swag).

A human Splinter could be Giles…just like Giles has his teen punk phase, Splints has his own crazy, pre-Watcher past to reveal.

I just don’t know what I’d want to do with the boys.

(Turtle?) Demons? Or maybe give them human designs and make them Vamps? Oooo like Raph and Mikey somehow got their souls back, and they go to the Slayer to try and get her to help them save Leo and Donnie??

Instead of Shredder being a ninja clan leader, he would be like the ultimate Vamp. He’s the one that turned one of the boys and set him loose on the others to turn them. No idea which order would hurt the most. Thinking either Leo or Mikey. But Michelangelo would probably be more likely to want to change the rest of his family.

Idk. Just spitballing at 3am. I very much wanna draw for this, I hope I can find the time soon. I know I don’t need another au but omg I love BtVS so much lol

lol I did get an ask a while back saying I needed an angsty AU for Raph and Mikey to make the complete set. This could be Mikey’s. Turning your brothers into soulless monsters and damning them for eternity would be pretty good angst.

[444forestfairy]

pick a snail pancake 🐌🥞

pick a snail pancake for an oracle card message on what is coming into your life slow and sweet! - something that’s been a long time coming but will pay off big

snail one 🌀

if you’ve been working on something with a group of people wether it’s a group project at work or a collaboration with friends I see that all the pieces will be coming together in a way that you’ll be happy with. I see you feeling strong and abundant. if you’ve been looking for someone to fill a certain roll or help you in some way the universe will be putting them in your path! extras- taurus season, something related to STEM, new piercings, puzzles, art/music, october, january.

snail two 🫐

immediately 3 cards jumped out- “lay a solid foundation”, “be fearless and bold”, and “a rebirth has assured” pile two this is definitely a message that your life is changing for the better. I see you’ve been working on yourself/your self concept for so long and it’s finally becoming comfortable and natural- your new normal is feeling good. you’ve been doing the hard work and the universe sees. your stepping into a confident energy that feels like a breath of fresh air. you feel rejuvenated because so much has been detoxed form your life. death and rebirth. extras- june, april, may, berries, planting flowers/gardening, scorpio.

snail three 🐌

wow you literally got the card turtle spirit that says “slow and steady wins the race”!!! how fitting is that. you also got turn knowledge into wisdom and trust in divine detours. If you’ve been working on something for a long time that’s requiring you to learn new things maybe you’re in school, maybe you got a new job or started a new business, i’m even seeing maybe you recently became a parent! could be a pet parent or a human parent, anyway trust in the time that it’s taking, trust you’re not falling behind or doing something wrong. literally trust the process. you’re on exactly the path you’re supposed to be on. I feel an extreme sense of calm and I feel like this is what the universe is asking you to embody as you move through this journey. you can do this and there’s no need to put too much pressure on yourself! extras- dogs and reptiles, eggs/something being born or hatched literally or metaphorically.

[goodlucktai]

What if I said 10 & 20 as portal duo thanks so much

dialogue prompts

10. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you.”

+ 20. “Get away! You’re hurting them!”

for my beloved meeks

x

They weren’t supposed to be here. It’s stupid, but it’s the first thing that springs to Mikey’s mind. 

Leo had only recently graduated with honors from those initial grueling physical therapy sessions that usually ended in tears (not always Leo’s) to daily exercises that got easier and easier until he was breezing through them the way he used to breeze through everything. 

If he went farther than two steps away from his arm crutches Donnie appeared out of thin air looking ready to breathe fire at him, and Raph was in the habit now of holding Leo out at arm’s length immediately after every hug in the manner of scruffing an unruly kitten to double-check he was wearing his leg brace and compression sleeve, and Mikey had learned the hard way what everyone meant when they said medics make the absolute worst patients. 

But for the most part Leo was doing really good! He was hitting all his marks and only driving everyone a tiny bit insane—well within the allotted Leo amount! 

So when he had smiled that crooked, conspiring smile at Mikey the minute the coast was clear and said, “There’s no better strengthening exercise then sneaking out with my favorite little brother for a past-due victory smoothie,” what was Mikey supposed to tell him? No??

It did occur to him, a tiny little guilty whisper. Leo was healing. He’d been so badly hurt. Even Splinter, who spoiled Leonardo rotten, hadn’t given into the slider’s constant pleas to rush the recovery process along. They were going by the book. Literally, since Donatello had stepped up as team medic in the interim. Don and Raph and April and even Casey were all very good at not bending an inch no matter how many tragic looks got sent their way. Mikey wasn’t very good at that at all. 

And anyway, joy had drowned out that whisper with a shout. He lit up with it, that newly-discovered supernova inside him curling up like a happy cat in a patch of sunshine. There’s a very big part of him that will always be what it’s always been, no matter how old he gets, or how powerful his mystic arts become—he’ll always be Michelangelo, and Michelangelo will follow Leonardo absolutely anywhere. 

So he said, “I’ll get my hoodie!” and darted out the door with zero ninja stealth, clipping his shoulder on the frame and almost crashing into the table in the hall. Leo laughed behind him, and the unrestrained sound made Mikey feel like he could float. Maybe he actually did for a second or two. 

He’ll never forget those horrible minutes after the portal closed, after Leo’s comms went dead, when he had wondered if he would ever hear his brother’s voice again. When he wondered what, exactly, his last words to Leo had been—they almost certainly weren’t I love you or please don’t leave so they didn’t count. 

To make up for it, he wanted to tell Leo everything every chance he got. He wanted to make him laugh all the time. He wanted to crowd into the little twin-size infirmary bed to watch movies or do art projects that got glitter everywhere. He wanted to sneak out for smoothies even though it would get them in big trouble, because that was literally why he helped save the world in the first place. 

And now he’s standing in a dim sidestreet, an orange streetlight buzzing dully above him, two smoothies melting in his hands. It’s their usual shortcut home, through a bunch of foreclosed apartment buildings and a dead end road. Leonardo is in front of him, shoulders stiff, ninpo humming weakly beneath his skin like a tired little beetle that shouldn’t be up from hibernation just yet. 

Across the road are half a dozen humans in what looks like riot gear labeled TCRI and a man in a black suit. The man somehow looks more dangerous than the people in police armor. 

“Leo,” Mikey says in a small voice. His brother doesn’t answer, but he does shift his weight to put Mikey more firmly behind him, which is answer enough. 

And Mikey thinks, We weren’t supposed to be here. No one knows where we are. 

The man in the suit starts talking into the bulky earpiece he’s wearing, but Mikey can’t make out what he’s saying over the buzzing of the streetlamp and the pounding of his own heart in his ears. All he hears is Leonardo murmur, “Mikey, go.”

“No,” Mikey’s mouth says automatically. It doesn’t even need any input from his brain to say it. Because no. 

“Mike,” Leo says, in his best leader voice. But his tone is urgent in a way that borders on being scared so closely it must mean he’s actually terrified, or he would never have let Mikey hear even a hint of it. “I’d go with you if I could. I’m sorry I can’t.” 

His hands tighten on his crutches. He can’t run. He’s still healing. He should be at home, doing his exercises with those little pink dumbbells in the warmth and safety of the lair, complaining the whole time in between tossing out ideas for dinner. 

Mikey should have said no to sneaking out the way Donnie and Raphie would have instantly said no. He should be better at taking care of Leo the way he needs to be taken care of, the way everyone else does so easily. 

The armored people start to shift to the side, moving around Mikey and Leo in a wide formation, hands on the guns holstered at their waists. Containing them. The man in the suit is still talking, face inscrutable behind the tinted glasses he’s wearing, but his face hasn’t twitched away from their direction even once. 

“Hey,” Leo says, bringing Mikey’s attention back. “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

He’s smiling over his shoulder like it’s any other back-alley brawl with the mutant of the week or a handful of those Foot soldiers who never know when to quit, and not a horrible high-stakes situation in which Mikey stands to lose one of the most important things in the entire world if he makes the wrong move. 

“Just get home and get the guys, okay? Then come right back for me. You can outrun these goons without breaking a sweat. You can do anything.”

Mikey drops the smoothies and the cold wet soaks through one of his sneakers instantly but he needs his hands free so he can clutch the back of Leo’s stupid hoodie. He needs to hold on tight and make sure whoever tries to take his brother away knows exactly what kind of knock-down drag-out fight they’re in for. 

“I don’t care,” Mikey says, too loud in the stillness. “I’m not leaving you.”

He wishes he were a snapper like Raphie. If he was big and strong and had a shell that was as good as bulletproof armor, he’d scoop Leonardo up and shield him from the guns and run them both away. 

If he was a genius like Donnie, he’d have one or a dozen gadgets on his person that would have saved them. 

But he’s just Mikey, who isn’t big and strong, who isn’t a genius, who isn’t one of the people Leonardo is willing to step down and be weak in front of and depend on. Just Mikey, who Leo saved all his best jokes for during painful rehab, like it mattered to him that Mikey didn’t see him struggle. Just Mikey, who Leo always lifts both arms for the second he sees him coming and squishes into the world’s best hug, even if he’s pissed off at everybody else. Just Mikey, who Leo wants to get better for, be the best for, be one of the constant things on this planet Mikey never needs to doubt, like gravity and sunrise and overpriced street food. 

Because there’s a very big part of him that will always be what it’s always been, no matter how mature he gets, or how accomplished a ninja master he becomes—he’ll always be Leonardo, and Leonardo would do anything to make sure Michelangelo keeps smiling. 

Leo is also very stupid, because he doesn’t seem to understand that Mikey will never smile again if his big brother goes away. 

When the TCRI agents explode forward at some signal Mikey missed, and grab the brothers and drag them apart, Leo stumbles and falls when his crutches are wrenched away. He’d probably be making a smart-ass comment if his jaw wasn’t clenched, the sudden fall probably radiating pain all the way up his spine, distress making his gold eyes burn neon yellow. 

Like a flip was switched, all the panic inside of Mikey evaporates into a red-tinged mist. 

The supernova inside him sleeps most of the time, because he’s not big enough to contain its multitudes yet, and it doesn’t want to cause pain. It only wants to shine light in dark places, it only wants to help. But it wakes up with a fury and fills every inch of him to the brim and the overflow spills right out of him, lifts him right off the ground, makes his voice a resounding thunderclap when he yells, “GET AWAY! You’re hurting him!” 

Staggering back and shouting in alarm, the agents begin firing, because humans in a panic are trigger-happy creatures, even well-trained ones like these guys must be. Every round fired disintegrates the second it meets the glow pouring out of Mikey, disappearing before it can do harm. 

“Holy shit,” Leo says, eyes wide. It’s the way Mikey imagines he probably looked at Leo, when everyone else feared Raphael was a lost cause but Leo put his hand on Mikey’s shoulder and told him, I’m not giving up on him. I’m not leaving him behind. A sailor lost in a storm and their first glimpse of the lighthouse in the dark, close enough to save them.

“Hold your fire!” the man in the black suit barks suddenly, his voice viciously angry. “I did not clear any of you to fire!” 

Mikey doesn’t care who the scary Men In Black guy is, or what reason he has for tracking Mikey and his brother down, or why he’s calling the dogs off now. He cares about helping Leo get back on his feet, scooping the crutches up off the ground and getting Leo’s arms in them, and staring right into Agent Sunglasses’s stupid face while the supernova burns and burns and burns inside him. 

Try it, he doesn’t say. Just try it. If the Krang couldn’t take my brother from me, what hope do you think you have?

He feels Leo’s arm slip around his, locking them together at the elbow. Leo’s ninpo, a soft breeze instead of the playful gale it’s supposed to be, weaves through Mikey’s own to lead it. 

‘Like this,’ the wind tells the sunburst, guiding it through the process it wants it to take the same way bigger hands used to guide a smaller Mikey through katas, readjusting his arms and poking him playfully on the beak when he scrunched it in frustration. The golden portal that opens beneath their feet costs him nothing, appearing as effortlessly as Leo’s spinning blue ones always do. 

The agent’s face goes slack with shock the second before the turtles disappear. 

They land on the sofa with enough force that it almost collapses, and Leo makes a pained noise, hands pressed to his plastron like he’s trying to contain a full-body ache with sheer willpower. Mikey scrambles off of him and falls off the sofa for his trouble. His clothes are prickly, like he’s covered in static electricity. A magazine left on the coffee table begins to move, pages flipping as if in a breeze. One of the beanbag chairs lifts up slightly, like gravity has gotten lighter in that specific spot. 

He feels too big for himself. There are multitudes inside him, a million different things that are all true at the same time. He’s still so angry, and he’s still so afraid, and he’s still just Mikey, who couldn’t be what Leo needed him to be until the last possible second. 

Just Mikey, who Leo saves his best smile for. Just Mikey, who Leo hugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world to bring another person that close and trust them right next to his heart. 

“You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Leo says, like it’s another truth Mikey can keep for as long as he wants. Forever, even.

There will be hell to pay when their brothers get home. There’s a brand-new danger their family needs to be made aware of. Leo tried to leave him behind again and it reopened a wound that was still raw and healing.

But for now that wild star in his heart doesn’t need to burn so bright. It can put all the furniture that began to float back down and go back to sleep. And Mikey can press his face into the cracked print of Leo’s favorite Chappell Roan hoodie and say, “Hope you enjoyed your last taste of freedom for the next hundred years.”

Leo laughs, but doesn’t let go of Mikey right away. He clings extra hard for an extra long minute.

He would have left, Mikey realizes, but he didn’t want to go. When he was alone on the Technodrome, staring down a monster and a portal and the truth of how to save everyone, he didn’t want to go. If there was any other choice, he would have taken it. He would have come home. 

Mikey isn’t Leo, who will do what he has to do no matter what it costs himself. Mikey isn't Raph or Donnie. Mikey is and always has been the spoiled baby of the family, who will do exactly what he wants to do and damn the consequences. He’ll tear a thousand holes open in the universe if that’s what it takes to keep his family together, and if the Hamato ancestors don’t like it then they can come and take their ninpo back. 

They can try, anyway. 

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hiiii! i was hoping for a mm!raph x fem!reader and maybe she’s a hallway crush for him and he finally talks to her and then they’re literally in love LIKE HARD CORE

Hallway Crush (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Mind reader you are. I’ve been thinking about writing this one for some time, so thank you for asking😂❤️ I’ve cut it a little short today, as I’m still getting used to a normal everyday in a kindergarten, so it became more high school crushing instead of full on in love. Hope you enjoy❤️

------------

Warnings: None❤️

------------

Raphael stood with his head in his locker, acting like he was looking through his stuff for something specific. Well, he was in fact looking for something, but it was nothing in his locker. No it was down the hall, standing at their own locker, picking out the books for their next class.

This was not what Raph had imagined high school to be like. He had thought it would be like those movies he and his brothers used to see back in the lair. The stereotypical jock that had it easy, never scared about what people thought of him, every guy wanted to be like him, he picked on the nerd and had a pretty girlfriend. That was how Raph had thought his high school life would be like. But that was far from the reality he was served with.

Raph had made it onto the wrestling team, so that made him a jock, right? But nothing about school was easy. Raph struggled with reading and math, and he often found himself feeling a little subconscious whenever someone looked at him for too long. His turtle exterior might have been accepted by the people of New York City, but every long stair made him feel a little unsure. Raph was very dependent on Donnie and his nerd friends helping him out with homework, and at times he feared that people would rather get to know his brothers instead of him. And he did not have a girlfriend. But he did have a crush on probably the prettiest girl in the whole school. Great, right? No!

Raph had never even talked a single word to you, but stared at you from his locker, more than happy to be late for class if he could watch you for a little longer. There had been times where Raph had tried to talk himself up, wanting to start up a conversation with you, but instead he found that his hands were getting sweaty at the mere thought of talking to you. His heart rising and his body shaking whenever you were close by in the cantine, or those few times he had found himself at the same water fountain as you. He almost forgot to breathe whenever you looked in his direction, averting his gaze, never knowing if you ever actually looked at him. And the brutal truth was that Raph wasn’t even sure if you knew his name, but he surely knew yours, often finding it repeating itself in his head.

Despite that, Raphael did exactly as he had done every single day, after he saw you for the first time. He stayed at his locker, watching you as you looked through your stuff, getting ready for your next class.

Raph was relieved that his brother’s weren’t around. They had obviously seen the way their brother has started to act whenever you were in his line of sight. Mikey and Donnie had a blast, realizing that it wasn’t Leo that had gotten a crush on a human, but Raph as well, giving the two youngest something good to tease both of their oldest brothers with.

Raph felt his shoulders slump, remembering Leo’s crush on April. He felt like slamming his head against the side of his locker. Here he was, fearing something as small as your eyes turning his way, and his duns of a big brother was talking to his own crush everyday, even if he was rambling and fumbling over his words. This could not be. There was no way that Leo was better at this than Raph was. It could not be. And with those thoughts in mind, Raph once again tried to talk himself up.

“You can do this, dude”, he whispered to himself, daring another look in your direction. “You fought Superfly. You saved New York City. If you can’t talk to a girl, who can? Even Leo can do it, and he is a duns”.

Raph shut his locker with a sigh, before doing something he had never thought he would do. He walked in your direction, determined finally to have a conversation with you. You however, didn’t seem to notice Raph until he was a few feet from you. You shut him a small friendly smile, causing his heart to flutter and his body to shake with nervousness.

“H- hey”, Raph stammered, cringing at the way his voice cracked. He expected you to huff annoyed at him before leaving, but instead your small friendly smile deepened to a genuine smile.

“Well, hi to you too”, you smiled, a giggle escaping your lips when you saw his flustered expression. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uhm… uh… yeah! I- I know you, (Y/N), but you don’t know me - sorry, no - I- I’ve seen you around, a- and I- I thought you were r- really”. Raph stalled at the way your eyes watched him with genuine curiosity and kindness, patiently waiting got him to finish. “W- will you go out with me?”

Raph had feared you would laugh, but not like you did now. It was light hearted and calm, and not in the least bit taunting. No, it was friendly and happy, somehow calming Raph’s frayed nerves down.

“I would love to do that, Raphael”, you smiled, trying to hide a small blush on your face.

Raph stared at you, his mouth agasp and eyes wide. “Y- you know m- my name?”

“Of course I do”, you smiled with a small giggle, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. It was when Raph realized that you were nervous too. “Everybody does. You and your brothers saved the city, and well”. Biting your lip, you reached out and tucked on the sleeve on his flannel, making his heart skip a beat. “You’re hard not to notice. I’m not just talking about the whole turtle thing”.

“Oh?”, Raph asked, somewhat shocked. “You really think so?”

“Yeah”, you nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Okay”, Raph said with a fond smile, feeling his nervousness fade away, giving way to a sudden urge of confidence, leaning against the locker. “Then what do you say to a pizza date this Friday?”

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into something different. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

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April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

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March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.  

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

Why you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants��� gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

[tizeline]

I just finished binge reading everything under your separated AU tag and I have QUESTIONS!! (that mostly just stem from me being a mikey fan) Be prepared as I will ramble.

So. My #1 burning mikey question is as follows. Why does he decide to, you know, NOT eradicate all of humanity? Does he just do it because all of his family is? Ugh it’s hard to phrase this but I’m wondering if Draxum’s word means so much to him he changes his entire world view, since draxum was the person who made him believe humans are evil, if he changed his mind he must be right? If he is the very last one to change his worldview, how does he react to the person who essentially indoctrinated him into believing humans are evil just going back on his word? Would he just, idk, try to keep going by himself (proper villain arc style!) Or does he get his own little human/outside friend to convince him, like his two other brothers do? What would happen if instead of a human/outside friend to convince him humans are okay, he gets someone like say, leatherhead, who was experimented on by the earth protection force?(Since in 2012, he was experimented on by the Kraang, but I don’t see a way of that happening when they were locked away his entire life) Huzzah for conflict! or better yet, That same leatherhead convinces him humans are okay? Though that those seem out of character…. And of course maybe it would be mondo gecko, who he befriends and then finds out was human just a few months before and still views himself as such…. So many possibilities!!

speaking of other characters, do the Drax trio have any Yōkai friends? Like one Sunita, or maybe even one yoichi usagi, per chance? Though I’m pretty sure they’d be pro-human so… idk how that would work. The question still stands.

Also, seeing as you mentioned Raph starts to hang out with Leo,Donnie and April, how does mikey react to that? Would he feel abandoned or left out? (Who am I kidding of course he would but like. It does t hurt to ask!)

And seeing as he’s alone now and he’s not training all the time (I hope) this feels like a good Segway into asking: does he have as much of a love for art as in canon? What are his and Raphs interests (since we know Leo’s!)

thanks! I love ur work and ur art and ur Au and ur mother for creating you.

P.s. I had another question I wanted to ask but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was rn so you can expect more asks from me in the near future ;)

Hoo boy, long asks mean long answers, strap in folks!

So EXACTLY what causes Mikey to change his mind on everything is something I'm still working out the details of. Draxum definitely plays a part in it, considering how much faith Mikey has in his dad, Draxum of all people changing his mind would be one of the biggest reasons for Mikey to also second guess himself. It's not like he'd instantly change his entire worldview though, after Draxum gives up on the Evil Plan, Mikey, or rather Dr. Positive, tries to motivate him to come up with a new plan for a short while. He gives up after Draxum makes it clear that they're Done™ with that, and Mikey isn't very keen on trying to do the Evil Plan all on his own considering HIS ENTIRE FAMILY decided to just give up on it. That doesn't mean he'll suddenly start liking humans, he still thinks they suck ass, he just isn't actively trying to cause their downfall anymore.

For both Leo and Raph, a big reason why they changed their minds on humanity was because they interacted with humanity and learned how wrong many of their previously held assumptions about them were. It makes sense that that's the catalyst for both of their redemption-arcs, and in that sense it also makes sense for Mikey to unlearn his prejudices against humans by interacting with them. HOWEVER! You bring up an interesting point, for Mikey specifically it would probably be more effective for another yōkai/mutant to give him a new perspective considering he'd be a lot more willing to listen to them rather than a human. I haven't been planning on including Leatherhead or Mondo, but it would be fun idea so I might do so.?That being said, getting to actually know a human later on would still be a good learning-experience for Mikey, I'm kinda tempted to bring in Woody from the IDW comics into the story too, for example.

So then we get to the topic of friends! Despite The Drax Bros growing up in yōkai society, they're still a bit isolated. They can go and hang out in The Hidden City basically whenever they want (as soon as they're old enough to do so), but when it comes to actually getting close to other yōkai and forming proper friendships...? So first of all, Draxum has a Reputation™ amongst yōkai, he's a well known figure and a lot of people are honestly a bit intimidated by him. Most yōkai thinks it's best to just stay out of his way, which includes staying out of the way of his weird kids. Basically, the bros' association with Draxum has a tendency to get in the way of them actually befriending anyone :/ Not just that, but while there are certainly yōkai who don't have the most positive feelings about humans, the Draxum family's stance on humanity is very extreme, which even most "human-critical" yōkai will find off-putting.

All of this is to say that no, they don't have a lot of friends haha. Leo hangs out at Run Of The Mill all the time, and Hueso definitely has a soft spot for him, but at most he's only acquainted with the other employees and regulars there. I'd imagine that includes Sunita, considering her dad works there and as such they've interacted on occasion. But again, Leo's extreme view on humanity makes most people uncomfortable and as such they'll mostly indulge him in civil small-talk to avoid getting on Draxum's bad side. Raph and Mikey...? They might have some casual friendly connections with some yōkai in The Hidden City, especially Mikey can be quite sociable if he can keep himself from ranting about humans for two seconds lmao. But for the most part, honestly, I think The Drax Bros are content staying a bit closed off from others outside their family. The three of them are very close and they know they can trust each other, that last part's important considering their Big Plans aren't exactly.... legal.... and as such they need to remain secretive about everything to others. I feel like they'd mostly start bothering finding new friends after they decide to abandon their Destroy All Humans Plan.

(Sidenote, I really like when Usagi shows up in TMNT stories, but I've never consumed any Usagi media myself. Almost all I know about both Miyamoto and Yuichi I know through TMNT and as such I don't feel confident enough in my knowledge about the Usagis to include either of them in the story. I HAVE been planning on reading the comics, so maybe I'll include him at a later date??)

But OH BOY Mikey's reaction to Leo and Raph starting to hang out with Donnie and April?? :D Both of Mikey's older brothers ditching him to hang out with their new little brother and his annoying human friend??? :D OH BOY YOU HAVE NO IDEA! :D

Listen, look at this from Mikey's perspective: You finally find your Long Lost Brother™ after thirteen years of him being presumed dead, great! Small problem, he's been brainwashed by the evil humans who kidnapped him and now thinks YOU'RE evil for some reason? No matter! He just needs some time to adjust! So you're patient with him, you show him kindness and understanding while gently trying to guide him back to the good side, to his REAL family. You do EVERYTHING right, and how does that bastard repay you?? HE instead turn your brothers against YOU! He ruins your plans of saving the world! Everything was PERFECT before HE showed up and started complicating things, and now your family is BROKEN and everything sucks! And it can all be blamed on Donnie.

...Hate is a very strong feeling, I don't feel like Mikey is really capable of feeling something like that, at the very least not against someone he does still technically considers family. Rather, I think the best way to describe the feeling Mikey is about to start feeling about Donnie would be bitterness. Mikey takes all the negative feelings, all the hurt and confusion about the situation he's ended up in and directs it all at Donnie. Because it all comes back to him, doesn't it? It was only after Donnie got reunited with them that things started going wrong. And from Mikey's point of view, Donnie has basically stolen Mikey's brothers from him. Needless to say, Mikey is dealing with a lot of negative emotions that he doesn't really know how to cope with them aside from taking it out on Donnie.

Donnie, who is so used to being love-bombed by Mikey is VERY flabbergasted over him basically just completely flipping a switch overnight. Mikey will just be glaring at Donnie like he's trying to explode him with his mind and Donnie's just "???who are you and what have you done with Mikey???". He starts acting really hostile towards Leo and Raph as well, it's all very weird!

Back to me not having figured out the details of the entirety of Mikey's character arc, one thing I'm contemplating is how long I wanna drag it out for. For example, I know I want to change up the events of the movie at least a bit in the AU for the sake of novelty. One way of doing that could potentially be for it to focus not on Leo's and Raph's ever growing tension in their relationship, but rather focus on Donnie's and Mikey's relationship? It'd be extra interesting if Mikey hadn't at least completely gotten over his hang-ups about humans when we bring Casey Jr into the situation. CJ looks at Mikey and sees a younger version of the man that was basically an uncle to him, like family, and Mikey looks at CJ and is just like "ew. human." and that'd be a whole dilemma to deal with. But as interesting as that could be, I'm scared that it'd just get tedious if Mikey is stuck in angst-mode for too long. We still have the entirety of season two to get through before we get to the movie, it's gonna be a while is what I'm saying. Then again, character growth takes time, maybe Mikey reconciles with his own family and starts the path to befriending Donnie by the end of season two, but they run into some roadblocks along the way. They ARE very different people, even in canon, I'd imagine it might take some time for them to properly befriend each other.

But next question - Mikey and Raph's interests! Mikey already likes to draw, but he'd definitely start doing it way more after the season 1 finale (oh wow, a healthy coping mechanism, imagine that!) Raph... Raph likes training. Even after it becomes clear that they're not doing their Big World Domination Plan anymore and as such don't really need to train as much, he still does it just because he genuinely enjoys it. He becomes proper friends with Casey the season one finale and she also really likes training, so it becomes a bonding experience for them. Leo and Donnie later on also introduces him to human media like Jupiter Jim and the Lou Jitsu movies and he gets really into it too XD Nerds!!

... Oh man, I think that's everything! Anyway, thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying the AU so much :D

[tmntxthings]

I watched it 🤭🙌🐢💜❤️💙🧡

so good! so cute!!! spoilers below the cut ↓

soooooo I really really really enjoyed how much effort they put into making them like sad about their circumstances, the reality of it all, being a mutant and wanting to be accepted by humans,

Splinter not being a human to begin with but just a rat and quite frankly traumatized by humans all his life so very distrustful and doesn’t want his sons going through that or getting killed, and what tops the cake is that he actually tried to go out on his own with the tots, only to be instantly turned on, which just solidified the fear! even though he wasn’t just a rat anymore he was still cast out, still shunned!

but the turtles were too young to really remember that so they had endless hope, at least Mikey, Donnie, and Raph, kinda sorta Leo especially when April came onto the scene 🤭

WHICH SPEAKING OF THAT! Idk how I feel, super cute, Leo liking April instantly reminded me so much of 2k12 Donnie maybe a less intense version, all the scenes where romance was implied wasn’t so heavy (maybe slightly cringe) but still had me smiling so I guess I’m for it????? Still need to think on it more, overall my thoughts are : cute ✨ Leo was just being so cute 💀

THE BROTHERS WERE DRAGGING HIM OUT THO, like practically the whole first half of the movie, which is typical for tmnt, but gah damn 😂 it was so apparent when just Donnie, Mikey, and Raph would group up/link up, because Leo would constantly “rat” them out to the rat! Super different vibes from rise!leo for sure, that was kinda switched where Mikey was the one who couldn’t really lie… and it wasn’t about lying per say, just Leo being a pleaser? or a good kid? or wanting to do the right thing??? maybe that’s all the same thing as not wanting to lie 😂

anyhow, my favorite part had to be the very first fight scene the bros go into! Leo springing into action, being the one to propel his brothers into danger all because he wanted to help April (again so cute) get her scooter back! Technically their fault too! Anyhow they were getting whooped but also holding their own simultaneously, and just thinking quickly on their feet and helping each other out, it was all pretty intense and very stressful like where Mikey almost got run over twice 😨 I was like oml someone do SOMETHING!!!!! Thankfully we got big bro Raph, always coming in clutch! But yeah I just really enjoyed the first fight and them coming out on top! And right after being accepted by their first human aka April O’Neil!!!!!!!!! :D

There’s so much more to say, I could quite literally write down everything that happened in words but not gonna go there 💀💀 anyone wanna just gush about the movie?!? What was your favorite part??! What do you guys think about Leo x April???

AND THE SEQUEL WITH SHREDDER 🤩🤩🤩

Do we have a date yet??? Oml so flippin’ excited that we have confirmed more content on the way!!!

Someone, anyone, TALK TO MEEEEEEEE 💞🤗😚

[mgnifique-tion]

— from the heart.

summary || ``the scientist, y/n l/n, finds the key to the god of mischief’s hardened heart.``

pairing: 2012!loki x gn!scientist!reader song recommendations: i’ll be your man - btob / covered by park jeup, choi suhwan, and kim seunghun (build-up) lowercase is intended… »» read part 1 here

— themes and warning/s: open-ended (yet again), very mild swearing, the enemies have turned to complicated lovers, religious/christian metaphors, angst, death of family member (mentioned), thor mentioned 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥 (just a heads-up)

— a/n: entry for april! what the hell, y’all… how did i get so active writing about loki, i’m not even into the mcu that much anymore (idk, probably because he turned into a tree and that was sad?) anyway, this is the second part to “human reaction” so if you haven’t checked that out, just click the link on the title for some backstory. this has also turned out longer than earlier so wow, i think i’ve gone crazy for loki (thanks a lot, tom 👍) — edit: hello, so this was supposed to be up for april but i'm posting it now on july because, unfortunately, i have a very busy life with unexpected events taking place. enjoy reading!

[ total words: 2.5k ]

support me on ko-fi! ☕

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

it was past midnight and that self-proclaimed god had brought you to the top of a hill, telling you to wait for him as he’ll be taking some time to converse with his allies.

allies in ruling the world? yes.

“faen!” you heard him growl into the darkness, which startled you from the rock you were sitting on. but of course, that sudden shock died down due to how tired you already were; sleepless and alert from anything that could happen if you’d ever close your eyes. there was that fear that you may never open them again if you had left them closed shut even for just a little minute. 

there was a long pause until you decided that it’d be somewhat of a good idea to say something. a single word at least just to fill in the silence. “... so, did the meeting go well?–”

“oh, will you just not question it!?” loki grunted, startling you again. well, he did say he wouldn’t lay a finger on you so erupting like a volcano right at you wasn’t technically breaking any rule. “don’t you see? it’s obvious that nothing else had gone well, you imbecile! what else would i have to offer you in exchange for your eternal silence!?”

then, he proceeded to take in a deep breath, closing his eyes to collect himself and his emptied patience while you just stared at him. yes, of course, you hated his guts and the fact that you couldn’t really do anything against him but you never intended to offend him; that question was genuine.

in fact, every single response you’ve ever given him was genuine.

“sorry,” you blurted out, “i was just asking. i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or something... just wanted to know what went on.” the way your voice sounded so hazy and somehow breathy had given him the impression that you were already exhausted, not just mentally but rather physically. you couldn’t think of the words to respond anymore and maybe it would’ve been better if you had just said nothing.

but surprisingly, this was just another reason for loki to take interest toward your gift: humanity, as he’s said. “... did you just?–”

“yes… i did. i did apologize!” you didn’t even notice how your tone had changed; you’ve never raised your voice at him for the sake of him doing the same for you but you’ve had enough. you weren’t a friend, you weren’t even anything to him. you were just a total mortal stranger he spared, which does not give any reason for both of you to yell at each other but that rule has been broken.

after all, you’re just human and that is natural.

“i have never insulted after you’ve spared me,” you reminded him bitterly, getting up from that rock you’ve been sitting on ever since the past hour. you don’t even know why this god had brought you here and something about it was just familiar to you, just like the sacrifice of isaac. “i couldn’t sleep... i couldn’t eat... i couldn’t even ask you to stop whatever the fuck you’re doing to my world anymore but the moment i asked you about your stupid meeting, you just– you just blow up at me! is this what i get from saving you!?”

and that was the first time you’ve ever startled a god.

loki was stunned. slightly amused but completely out of words. just by staring at him, you’d know that he would start thinking of something with a smug smile but there was nothing on his face; he was fazed by you. 

“right,” he said with a low chuckle, “i must’ve forgotten you were human with feelings all over the place... natural... real.”

as the scepter started glowing again, panic rushed in your head and you damn knew that you had to run – just like the many times you’ve thought of that scenario but it just never took place. “you want a meal and an hour of sleep?”

“make it at least two–”

“four, it is.”

and despite the second peak of terror just occuring, that was also the second time he’s ever shown actual generosity. “you humans are too fragile,” loki commented with yet another chuckle as you huffed since that’s all you could do; you don’t trust his promises after all and you might never will. “... you really do need a proper leader. a god you can see, feel, and touch… not some written messiah.”

oh.

that statement must’ve crossed borders.

“... where do you want to eat?” he asked softly, almost as if he’s returning that genuine question he didn’t even bother to listen to. you were starting to wonder whether this was a symbol of your last meal. the last thing you’ll ever eat before your execution. 

who knows what else he could do with that scepter of his. “... well, in-n-out is open for twenty-four hours so…” you trailed off, looking away for a bit as your eyes scanned the area. every hill and path already turned into several landmarks in your mind as if you were the first person to discover it. “... would that be okay?”

once those uncertain words left your lips, the god of mischief smugly smirked back and nodded once. “i have one condition, however.” loki, of course, had to have some benefit from allowing you to take your basic needs as he stood before you, his hands clasped together and shown rather than his usual. “you’re not allowed to eat alone, therefore, once you purchase your cheap delicacies, we’ll come back here.”

so, a total bummer? of course, loki would know how to ruin your chances of escaping even if you hadn’t plotted against him… yet. “i wouldn’t want my apprentice to attempt freeing themselves, would i?” he knew what he was doing and you just had no choice; you needed to eat. you needed sleep. you needed to survive and in order to do so, you must abide by his rules.

he did spare you, didn’t he?

and as time passed by, you were now seated in the same mountain area, eating a take-out burger with a god. you didn’t know whether this was an early breakfast or a late dinner but nonetheless, you were somewhat grateful. “... are you not hungry?”

“gods don’t need to–”

“i bought you one, too.”

for some reason, loki just couldn’t say no to that as he continued to sit down next to you while your hands scrambled into the paper bag, searching for the other burger. at the moment, this was the only thing you could afford since he’s taken you under him once he’d given you that offer: wherein he or his blue-eyed minions couldn’t hurt you yet you still had to be somewhat his subject; a witness and a bystander.

after all, how could he lead humanity without being familiar with one?

“why aren’t you making attempts yet?” loki asked, “this is your perfect and only way of taking the hit and setting yourself free from my commands.”

“because i stick by my words,” you said back effortlessly, “i’ll be here until you let my co-workers– my friends go.”

he was silent again. in some way, he expected you to tell him that you were staying because you simply wanted to but a whiplash of reality quickly swept him away from his delusions. “so, you’re telling me that you’d wait until i let them go, huh? you’re willingly waiting for ages, then.”

the god hardened his heart and set aside any chances of letting your friends go as he chuckled before taking a bite from his burger. on the other hand, you just sat there, rethinking your choices; there’s no way nothing could convince him to let them go, right?

“yet i do admire your everlasting… hm… patience,” he pointed out, later letting out another low chuckle. “now that is something i don’t have… how do you do it?”

for the very least amount of times, he actually was genuine with that question. “well, i had a baby sister and she definitely trained me a lot with my patience.” you laughed, the delayed silence seeping in little by little, which made him cock his head to the side, curious about the matter.

“... had?” he just had to ask about it. “she passed away.” and you just had to tell him.

hearing your solemn, guilty answer was enough to make loki hooked to that story behind your younger sister’s passing. it wasn’t something you’d openly talk about but it surely was the only thing you endlessly blamed yourself for. 

“... oh,” loki uttered with a rather bitter tone, “i’m sorry for your loss… how old was she?”

“twelve.”

considering the fact that he was thousands of years old, his eyes widened after finding that out. “... that’s young,” he commented rather blankly but the look on his face was otherwise; you weren’t the only one terribly heartbroken about the incident. loki took the lives of eighty individuals in two days but never did he think of taking the life of a young child.

so, that was terrifying to think of. “and that happened because of?”

“... terminal disease.”

no matter how casual you sounded to him, your heart shattered. “well, actually, it could’ve been her twenty-second birthday last month if she made it… i’m a bit sappy now, aren’t i?” reality woke you up and told you to snap out of it; you weren’t talking to a friend, you were talking to a dictator. an alien. the god of mischief.

this story was not supposed to be and shouldn't be disclosed with him. “be sappy all you want,” he said, taking a sip from the straw of his cola. “after all, a god should be able to listen to his people’s messages, right?”

narcissistic? yes. but empathic? weirdly, that too.

“... that thing you used earlier,” you took a pause, letting out a sigh and then, a laugh. “it was supposed to be for her… well, for people like her at least.”

loki was giving it his best to not feel sorry – guilty for using the thing you’ve made but who knew that a sibling tragedy would soften his heart? he wouldn’t admit it, of course, but it was there. present at the moment and served as a reminder that he too had a sibling.

well, has.

“it was up for testing but of course, it was used for something else,” you said, eyeing him down as he managed to fake a chuckle; he couldn’t let himself show weakness after everybody else in his life made him feel like a nuisance – a tiny, little problem they’d have to deal with every day. not ever. never again. “... but i guess i still saved someone? and i still don’t know if i should be happy about that but it still provided its purpose.”

“oh, please.” he laughed, facing you more than he ever did before. “you saved me, your god and not anyone else… you should be celebrating this for your whole life.”

“you’re not the god i worship, loki.”

“well, i suggest you must. it’ll make this all easier for you.”

and he talked like a noble deity while eating a french fry. cheap and comical but it didn’t lower his status. “and, oh, if you do, there would be a lot of kneeling that’d occur.” that statement made you turn around and look at him with your brows either furrowed or raised; you had no idea how to react properly to it.

“... what–,” you were then stopped midway.

“i meant in praying.” he choked out.

this was one of your weirdest, most out of place conversations with the god so you just had to slowly turn away again and face the hills below both of you while munching on the burger in your hands. and then, he told you the truth you’ve kept deep in your chest, “... oh, i see it clearly now… you saved me because you want to prove yourself that you’re capable of keeping someone away from death. that you’re… worthy of things.”

it felt like time had stopped the moment you listened to him say that. for the first time, he was actually right with what he’d told you. he’d always claim the most bizarre things about humans and gods but this time, he was so close to the truth that he just blatantly told you what it was.

you were guilty because you couldn’t save her.

“i have a brother,” he added, “that’s why i… um… figured it out.”

“well, where is he, then? did you kill him?”

loki laughed at that. despite the hatred and fueling anger he had for his older brother, he wouldn’t end up killing him even though he’s close to it. the scars of the past made him into who he was now but the wound that his brother’s death would leave him absolutely destroyed. alone. all by himself. consumed by nothingness. just like what his old, so-called friends would tell him.

“he’s alive,” he said so soothingly, “and he’s living against what i had planned for this world.” those following words were much bitter, angrier than what he’s said before. it’s almost as if he’s relieved to see his brother again but upset enough to know that he wasn’t on his side.

“oh, you totally miss him.”

“... silence, peasant.”

and yet another unexpected scenario happened: sharing a laugh with the god of mischief who wants to rule over your world like a second hitler. “... but you can’t show that, can you?” you questioned and he nodded right away, politely letting you finish despite already expecting that you’d ask that. 

when the cold air and the rustling leaves collided, it was time for you to ask him the question that might just change the entire situation.

“is everything all from the heart?” you asked, pointing towards your chest as you stated him down. “... are you saying all of this from the heart?”

it took loki a while before he accepted it; he did speak about all of it from the heart. all of it. no lies were told for once and it was chilling for him. he didn’t even know that he was capable of opening the doors to the secrets he’s kept locked and buried in but that was the effect of the midgardian sitting next to him; the human who made him realize why thor loved jane.

the human he was willing to rule and to love. “... if i asked you now, would you kiss me?”

and for some reason unknown, your lips did brush against his, caressing them softly while you brought your hands to the back of his head, tangling your fingers around his waved locks. maybe you had been caught up by the moment but for him, this was real. this was the moment he understood why thor wanted to protect this world.

because humans spoke from the heart. 

but how could he take everything back when the damage had been done? when the chaos had taken over?

he pulled away and asked with teary, glistening eyes, “what have you done? why did you do it?”

one thing about him was that his need was also his one and only fear; it was love. 

you were startled once again, still keeping your hands behind his head. was it a trick? was it some test? you didn’t know anymore. you were bound to do whatever it took to save your friends and if a kiss that you’ve been longing for could do it, then what else could go wrong?

well, things may have not gone wrong for you but to loki, this was his one and only wake-up call.

wake up, loki.

you’ve fallen for the human.

[lara-cairncross]

Hi!! I have two questions about your rottmnt fairy au, and I don’t really know if these have been answered yet or if you even have the answer to the second one, (which is totally fine btw! ＾＾). The questions may be a bit dumb but still. Curiosity got the best of me.

1. A question about Donnie’s damaged wing, I would assume it’d be quite fragile due to the damage it already has, so I do wonder if it could get worse. Like how a normal fairy’s wings have the possibility of ripping. I wonder if maybe Donnie’s wing had gotten slightly worse (like- idk a small rip or chunk coming of off it) before he had made his brace?

2. How does the whole apocalyps timeline work (if you had even planned something like that in your au). Because I had noticed you saying that yokai are fairies, and humans like april are just that, human. Does that mean Casey junior is also a human? Because the only thing I imagine is just little fairy leo teaching a full on human how to fight. (-_-;)

Btw I really really like your au! I used to watch the tinkerbell films over and over again (I have probably watched every one at least ten times-) and to see my current hyper fixation be mixed with something I really liked as a kid fills me with excitement! (Sorry if the questions may be a bit confusing I’m not good at this)

hi hi hi! your questions aren't dumb at all :D as far as I'm concerned, there's no such thing as a stupid question, y'know? I love getting to answer them ^^

Yes, Donnie's wings (particularly the damaged one) are very susceptible to further damage. Part of the reason is the fact that his wings are always on the outside of his shell (due to him being a softshell), and thus, he doesn't have the ability to hide them away for protection like Leo and Mikey (and partially Raph, although Raph's shell works a little differently, with his shell spikes folding down to act as a defense). That's why Donnie's wing brace includes that gold shell over his wings! Extra protection :) You're correct about them possibly being damaged before he was able to build the brace though-- I can definitely imagine the holes/tears in his wing getting stuck on branches and being pulled if he's not careful. There's also the fact that fairy wings don't feel pain-- referenced by Raini being able to painlessly cut off her wings in order to swim underwater in the Pixie Hollow books-- so Donnie would have trouble noticing if his wing was caught on something and tearing.

I don't really have an apocalypse timeline planned out so far. I do have ideas for fitting in the Kraang (which,,, idk if i'll ever actually make it to that plot point BUT WE'LL SEE LOL), but there's likely not going to be a future arc or anything. That being said, I DO have ideas for both Casey and CJ that involve them not being humans OR fairies... :))))

I'm glad you're enjoying it!!!! This is ALSO me combining hyperfixations lol, I'm happy someone else feels the same way!!! 💜🧡

[thislovintime]

“So many of you are writing letters saying, 'I’m in love with a star. What’ll I do?' Or, 'I love Peter. Please help me!' So, I decided the best person to go to for help would be Peter himself, because, besides getting so many of these letters, he always seems to have a straight-from-the-heart, well-thought-out answer to any problem. In Peter’s Monkee set dressing-room I settled comfortably on the green rug. Peter sat cross-legged on the couch. First of all, I took out one of the many 'Help!' letters and showed it to him. After he read it I asked him just how he felt about being loved like this. He looked at me with his wise, deep but now almost bewildered, eyes and said simply, ‘I think it’s unreal. I don’t believe it.’ From that short, direct answer I thought perhaps that this problem had puzzled him or he just didn’t want to answer it. But Peter dismiss an important problem? Never! He started talking right to all his fans then, through me — and I could tell that this was a problem he’d worried about and considered often — maybe even stayed awake nights looking for an answer. After all, it directly concerns him and all the girls everywhere that he gives happiness to hour after hour, day after day! ‘I think some girls are pretending to feel love for me which is really not love, even though they don’t realize it. They direct their feelings and daydreams toward the image of me they see on the screen or in the magazines. […] ‘[T]hey look at this picture of me which has all the faults removed from it. ‘For instance, you’d never know if I had complexion trouble because it would all be under makeup. You’d never know if I were mean or angry unless you just happened to be in the way of one of my temper tantrums, which sometimes happens to fans. I sometimes lose my temper, like anyone, and if you happen to be in the way of it at the time, you might think, “Oh, what have I done?” You’ve done nothing, I was just being human. […] ‘I’d much rather you just think of me as the kid on the corner who made good. The guy who happens to enjoy being an entertainer, standing on the stage and performing, and who got himself into a little more than he bargained for when the Monkees became famous. […] ‘I’ve grown not to believe in tragedy. I’ve grown to believe that all things work out for the best. Even if you’re in despair, you’re going to discover that there’s more will to live in you than all your despair and you’ll come out of it. The will to live is a will to be cheerful, and to be on top of things. Stay cheerful! ‘In other words, if you really love me, you will look for these constructive ways to help. You’ll step in and help some poor underdog or smile at an unpopular kid. You will help somebody with his homework when he’s failing. These things are really acts of love. For every ounce of energy you think you feel in love towards me, practice generating your own love where it seems not to be wanted, even where you think it won’t be accepted. That’s what’s called Christian love. And it’s better than trying to show your love for me by just helping my career. If you want to buy all my records, that’s cool, because I’m trying to do some nice stuff on the records. But helping my career is not a full-time occupation for anybody. ‘I believe that all is One, that there is only one everything and we call it God, so God is everything.’ With that last, brief, statement, Peter stood up and stretched. It was that time again. He had to go out to the cameras and get back to work with Micky, David and Mike. But he had answered the question so often asked: ‘Please help me… what’ll I do?’ And the more I thought about this last statement, ‘All is One,’ the more I understood what he meant by it. Peter feels that all life is One and that One is Love. Therefore, when you are loving the person near you, you are showing your love for Peter right where you are. You are loving Peter in the very best way possible!” - article by Audrey Hulse, Fave, April 1968

[theladyheroine]

Characters for the New TMNT 🐢

❥ Hello everyone! So this will be similar to my previous Kingdom Hearts posts where I’ll try to predict a few things for the future! It’s just for fun but I hope you guys enjoy! 💚

⚠️ Also quick warning, there are spoilers for the Mutant Mayhem movie & the Tales of the TMNT on Paramount! ⚠️

Casey Jones - Okay, so I understand there was a scrapped concept art for Casey Jones from the Mutant Mayhem movie. But whether Casey ends up being a boy or a girl, I really wanna see their friendship again! They always have good chemistry together, & I can imagine them meeting if Raph tries out for the hockey team at school! Jones is like the best player on the team so Raph has some beef. 😅 Not intentionally but I can see a rivalry happening (lol).

Karai - This was more of a what if moment but since the Shredder will likely appear in the sequel movie, Karai would be like one of those characters that turns good in the end. Likely because she never wanted to serve the Foot Clan in the first place. It would also be cool if she went to the same high school as the main cast, either before or at the end of the film.

Slash - This character was also what if moment, since Slash is usually a small villain. But I really like what the 2012 TMNT did, making him a hero during his arc! I feel if he did show up in MM universe, I can see him being a bit of an antihero at first? Or some kind of mutated crook before agreeing to help the turtles out.

Mona Lisa - Raph’s love interest I feel was pretty underrated until the 2012 version put their own spin on things! She’s one of my favorite characters & I’d love to see her again! For this version, I would like to see a human design since we haven’t seen that before! But then she gets mutated later on & perhaps that can be a new story in the future? With humans getting mutated too at some point.

The Rat King - So, I’m actually not so sure for this one? I know Splinter was the Rat King temporarily during the Tales of the TMNT show. But I did see a post, unfortunately I can’t remember where 😅🙏, but someone said that Bad Bernie might end up being mutated? I can see that, especially since he already looks like a rat or mouse. And he did come back after the East River 3 Arc.

Miyamoto Usagi - Okay this was a lot tougher than I thought. 😅 I understand Usagi is like from an alternate dimension usually? And for a funny spinoff series, that could still work? But maybe more on the science-style of things rather than the magic side? Like maybe TCRI makes a giant portal & the turtles get sucked into it. Landing in Usagi’s dimension by accident!

Venus de Milo - I have yet to see the 90s movies but I’m still a big fan of Venus de Milo! She is so cool & I feel she’s a good contrast to the boys. I’m not sure if she’d be related to them or not, but we can stick with the cousin thing for now. Anywho, for her backstory, I feel maybe she was another experiment from Baxter Stockman? Or maybe TCRI who wanted to recreate his project but she escapes! And meets the turtles!

Irma Langinstein - So I only know Irma from the 2012 version of TMNT, but if she were introduced into MM I feel there’s a lot of cool stuff she could do! Maybe she’s a human friend April makes or she’s some kind of ninja turtle fan girl (lol)! But so far I’ve seen people portray her as a super smart kid & becoming best friends with Donnie, which I like!

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:

Chapter 6

Masterlist - Previous - Next

The Heartbreak Prince

23 April 2023:

"She’s gorgeous. Look at this beautiful girl." Pascale Leclerc cooed at her granddaughter, eyes full of love.

"She really is. And she’s so small… like a little doll." Charles smiled, watching his mother cradling his daughter to her chest, when his phone rang "That’s Fred. I have to take it."

"It’s okay, don’t worry, I’ll stay here with my beautiful, little girl." his mother said, not looking up from the bundle of joy in her arms.

Charles walked outside, accepting the call.

"Fred…"

"I got your text earlier. Congrats Charles, mother and daughter both okay?" his team principal asked.

"Yeah. Both healthy."

"That’s good. Really good. And the rest- umm… everything arranged?"

"Yeah. It’s been taken care of." Charles sighed.

"Good, good… I really don’t like to do this Charles- but I have to ask. Will

you race in Baku? I would understand if you didn’t want to… but- well it’s Baku. You always been quite good there, so I think… maybe…" Fred stuttered a little, as a father himself, he knew what he asked of his young driver.

"No. I have to… I said I would do everything in my power to be able to do both. Race and be a good father…" Charles replied, although he honestly didn’t want to leave his precious girl behind.

"You don’t have to come with everyone else, be here on the 27th, for media day, that’s fine…" his Team Principal suggested and he nodded slowly.

"Thanks Fred, see you in Baku."

"See you in Baku…"

Charles pocketed his phone, leaning against the wall when the door to the hospital room opened, his mother looking outside.

"You need to feed her, come on in…" she smiled at her son and Charles pushed himself off the wall, following her back in.

The gorgeous baby girl scrambled in the little crib, soft cries leaving her.

"Here, it’s warm. Take her and sit down…" his mother instructed him and he did as told.

After a couple of minutes a comfortable silence fell over the room. Only the newborn’s tiny sounds while eagerly suckling on the bottle were to be heard.

Charles eyes were full of love and adoration for the tiny human being in his arms, to think he would only have 4 days until he had to leave his little girl for the first time hurt him beyond belief. But he knew that he made a promise. He would do everything to give his daughter the best life possible.

"It’s just you and me, mon ange… just you and me, but I promise you, I will do everything to keep you safe, keep you happy." Charles leaned down to gently kiss his little girls forehead "I love you, my beautiful Ava."

"And this will be your room, I mean, when you’re a little older of course. I know, it’s nothing special. It needs colour, decoration, maybe even different furniture… but I wanted to have the nursery ready before you were born… we change that, don’t worry, pretty girl." Charles cradled his daughter to his chest, standing in the middle of the plain, white nursery. It looked sterile. Cold. He knew it. He just didn’t have the time to change it until now "You’ll sleep in my bedroom for now anyways… here, I show you…" he walked outside the nursery, down the hallway, through the door at the end "This is where we sleep, how do you like it?" he looked down at the sleepy baby girl, chuckling "It’s not like you’re going to answer, right? I guess your silence means you love it…"

"I hate it, I want my own bedroom, daddy!" Joris' high pitched voice behind him made Charles roll his eyes "I thought you’re a millionaire, why do we have to share a room?"

"Ha-ha, very funny…" the Ferrari driver turned around, glaring at his best friend "Before she’ll move into her nursery, I need to make it homely first. Worthy of my little princess." his eyes softened as soon as he looked back down into the baby’s face.

"You still got time, don’t worry. For now, you should enjoy the next couple of days with her, before leaving for Baku…"

"I can’t believe that I’m saying that, but I don’t want to race, I want to stay here with her, I don’t want to miss anything she’s learning, or doing for the first time!" the new father sighed.

"I know. But let’s face it, Ava is only 3 days old, she won’t do much besides sleeping and pooping…" Joris shrugged his shoulders.

"Watch it, Trouche, or I’m rethinking my choice of making you her godfather." Charles turned slightly, smiling at his best friend.

"Wha-… are you-… are you serious? M- me? Godfather?" he stumbled over his own words, eyes wide as he stared at the young father with his daughter in front of him.

"I’m serious, yeah… I mean, obviously only if you wa-…"

"Yes! YES! Of course! I just… I didn’t think you would choose me? Lorenzo? Or Arthur… but… wow. WOW!" Joris stepped closer, looking at the little angel in her father’s arms, his goddaughter "My beautiful Ava. I will try to be the best godfather, I promise!"

"And you know what? One of your first duties is to help me change her diaper… I did it the last days with maman’s or a nurses help… but now… I’m scared…"

"I mean, how hard can it be?" Joris chuckled and followed Charles to the changing table, where he gently laid down his little bundle of joy.

"Yeah, shouldn’t be that big of a problem." the new dad shrugged.

It was a problem. A big problem. And when ten minutes later the little girl was all fresh and dressed up, both young men slid down on the floor, leaning against the bed and drawer.

"I will have nightmares of this- this experience…" Joris mumbled and Charles nodded slowly.

"How can this precious, sweet little thing create such an atrocity?" he looked down at his daughter, who dozed off already, letting out the sweetest sounds.

"And now look at her! All cute and adorable!" Joris smiled and his best friend scooted over a little.

"Do you want to hold her?" he asked and looked at him.

"Umm-… sure. But you have to show me, I never held a baby that little!"

"I’ll show you, don’t worry…" Charles replied and showed Joris exactly how to held his little baby girl.

"Oh wow… oh wow… she’s so tiny…" Joris mumbled, looking at his goddaughter "She’s so cute…"

"She is perfect… I know that it won’t be easy, being here for her, taking care of her. My career. Keeping her safe from my crazy life. The media. My fans. I know the next months, maybe years will be pretty tough… but when I look at her? I just know it all will be worth it." Charles almost whispered, his gaze softening.

"I think you’re right… I mean, just look at her…" Joris replied, gently taking Ava’s hand in his much bigger one, inspecting her tiny fingers.

"I know this all was unusual. A drunk one night stand. Hiding her mother away from everyone. Keeping her a secret? But I would do it all over again, just to have her…"

Joris looked up at Charles, smiling at the way how his best friend’s soft gaze lingered on his baby girl. A content smile on his lips. His eyes full of love. He always knew that Charles would be an amazing father one day, the way he treated his little fans a clear indicator, but seeing it happening before his eyes made his own heart double in size.

"She’s your little girl."

"My little girl. My princess." Charles whispered, gently kissing his daughter’s tiny hand "My everything."

Baku 2023:

"Question for Charles, you only arrived today, everything okay? I’ve, and I’m sure I’m not the only one, noticed that you’re a little pale?" a reporter asked at the press conference and Charles picked up the microphone, clearing his throat.

"I’m good, thanks. I had to sort out something back at home, nothing bad, don’t worry, just a family- a private matter. It’s all good and I’m here, ready to race." he said it with a big smile on his face.

A smile he kept for the rest of the press conference. A fake smile. Leaving Ava behind after not even a full week hurt. It didn’t sit right with him. But he promised his team he would race. He promised him being a father now wouldn’t affect his career and he planned on keeping that promise.

"You’re alright mate?" Max asked when they left the press conference and Charles nodded "Everything alright at home?"

"Yeah, sure… it was just-… my mum. She was sick, nothing serious, but there were some things we had to take care off. Her hair salon. Stuff, you know?" the Monegasque was a horrible liar and he knew he had to improve in order to keep his secret under wraps.

"Okay-… well, I’m glad she’s good again?" Max replied.

"Hmm. Yeah. All good…"

"Alright. What do you think? Another pole this year here?"

"I much rather would start in P2 but actually win the race… but honestly? I’m not having much hope." Charles sighed, thinking about the weekend ahead, hoping for a decent outcome at least. And when Sunday came and he sat in the plane back home late at night, the smile on his face wasn’t just from being happy to see his daughter again, but also from a second place in the sprint race and a third place in the main race. His mood was only dampened by the fact that he would have too little time with his baby girl, considering he had to catch his flight on Thursday to Miami, but even if it would only be for 10 minutes, Charles would take the detour. Every single second with his daughter was precious.

"Hey my little princess…" Charles cooed at his little one, inhaling the unique newborn smell, sighing contently when he finally made his way back home "I’m back baby girl and this time I’m staying for longer than just a day!"

He thought back to last week when he made a quick stop over in between Baku and Miami, hating to leave her after only a day already.

"She was a perfect little angel." Pascale smiled, packing her granddaughters bag "Are you sure you want to drive home? You could stay here?"

"No, I really should go home. I have to get used to taking care of her alone…" Charles replied.

"Okay, here, I’ve got her a car seat." Pascale sat down the Maxi-Cosi and helped her son buckling in the little baby girl "If you need anything, call me, okay?"

"Will do. Thanks Maman, for taking care of her." Charles kissed his mother’s cheek, who gently squeezed his arm.

"I told you, we’re all helping you. It’s going to be fine. And now off you go. It looks like it’s about to rain soon…"

And Pascale was right, the moment Charles left the underground parking garage in his car the first drops fell and by the time he reached his own home it was already raining cats and dogs. But it was good like this. Not many people out in the streets. No one walking up to his car to take a picture. When he took Ava out of the carrier and laid her down in her crib he dialled his brother’s number.

"Hey Charles, how’s Ava?" Lorenzo asked and Charles rolled his eyes a little.

"What about me?" he pouted, gently stroking Ava’s cheek.

"You’re right, sorry! How are you? How is Ava?" his older brother chuckled.

"We are both doing fine. But I realised something today…"

"Yeah? And that’s what?"

"I need a new car. A bigger one. A safer one. With tinted windows. I can’t risk someone recognising me and then coming closer, taking pictures and spotting Ava. Chasing us…" Charles quietly left his bedroom, leaving the door a crack wide open.

"Okay, yeah that shouldn’t be a problem."

"Good… and now I have a week with my little one before I have to leave her yet again…" the young father sighed.

"Although I don’t know how you must feel, but let me tell you this. Formula 1 is your job, it’s been your life the past few years and you’re on a good way of finally making one of your biggest dreams come true… don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re doing your job, so it’s okay. And it’s not like you leave Ava all alone! You leave her with Maman who adores her!" Lorenzo said and Charles nodded slightly.

"You’re right… I know that… it just… it sucks a little…"

"Enjoy your week off with her for now, okay? The rest we’ll figure out! In the meantime I’ll check some cars out for you!"

"Thanks Enzo…"

"No worries little bro…"

Charles sat in his bed, Ava comfortably snuggled into his chest, watching the news about the weather in Italy.

"Looks terrifying, no?" Arthur said quietly, walking inside "I’m not even sure if we’re racing…"

"Yeah… and look at all the damage. Those poor people…" Charles sighed.

"Isn’t umm-… Alessia and her family aren’t they living in the Emilia Romagna region?" Arthur said hesitantly and by the way his brother’s head snapped up, looking at him he held up his hands "Sorry… I shouldn’t have said that…"

"You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I don’t know where they are. I don’t care where they are. I hope they’re safe, like everyone affected, but that’s it. I don’t know these people. I don’t want to know these people."

"I have food for you, from Maman…" Arthur tried to change the topic and Charles was more than happy about it.

"I’m starving…" he replied and his little brother nodded.

"I’ll go and fix a plate for you and then you can eat and I snuggle with my little bumblebee…" he left the bedroom and Charles looked down at Ava again.

She slowly opened her eyes, yawning and squirming a little.

"Hi my little princess…" Charles whispered, leaning down, kissing his daughter’s cheek "Did you have a nice nap, baby girl?"

He had to chuckle. He used to shake his head at people who exaggerate using a baby voice when tending to their babies. But now he was just like that, cooing at his little girl with a high pitched voice, waiting for a reply that wouldn’t come.

"Here you go… and now I want my little bumblebee…" Arthur sat down a plate on his older brothers night stand, looking at his niece, smiling when Charles gently laid her down in his arms "She’s so fu-…"

"Arthur!"

"- freaking cute! So incredibly, incredibly cute!" he cooed at the little girl in his arms.

"That she is…" Charles replied "I don’t want to leave on Monday… but it’s Imola, there is a ton of events Silvia couldn’t pull me out off, so I have to go…"

"I don’t want to leave either, staying here would mean no fu- messed up race weekend…" Arthur mumbled and Charles looked up from his plate.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, Arthur…" he began but Arthur shook his head.

"4 race weekends, 8 races and only one P3… no win, no pole position, mostly finished out of the points, crashes here and there… I guess I’m just not good enough…" he sighed.

"Hey! Stop that! It’s only the beginning of the season, you need time to get used to an F2 car!" Charles sat down his plate, looking at his little brother "You wouldn’t have made it into F2 if you weren’t good enough!"

"Everyone is saying I only made it because of you…"

"What? Who’s saying that?" Charles was confused.

"Everyone. It’s everywhere, experts, journalists, they all say it. Or write it." Arthur replied, smiling at Ava holding onto his finger with a tight grip.

The older Leclerc brother grabbed his phone, opening Google typing in his brother’s name and to his shock, his little brother was right. He clicked on the first YouTube video, not wanting to believe that people would say things like that.

"… now let’s talk about his team mate, Arthur Leclerc…" the blonde woman said, looking at her two male co-hosts.

"Leclerc didn’t have the best start of the season and some people start wondering if he deserves a seat in F2 and of course how much his brother had to do with him having a seat." the dark haired reporter said, while the blonde haired guy next to him nodded.

"Don’t get me wrong. Racing is in the Leclerc brother’s blood. But I guess you can say, when back in the day their parents had to decide which brother could continue and which had to stop, they made the right choice."

Furiously he exited the app, locking his phone.

"Are you watching that?" he looked at his little brother who only shrugged his shoulders "If they can’t talk shit, they’re not satisfied."

"But they’re right, no? I’m not having a good season. I am not good enough…" Arthur mumbled "So yeah… I guess it really made sense that mum and dad put all their money on you instead of me…"

"It had nothing to do with who was better, Arthur! I was older, already further into my racing career. That was it. Nothing else." Charles said and Arthur sighed.

"If you say so." he shrugged.

Charles got off from his bed and sat down on the stool in front of his brother.

"This all, racing, it’s already tough enough without all that bullshit coming from so called experts and you know it! It had nothing to do with me, that you got your seat, Arthur! You had an amazing season in F3. You won the Formula Regional Asian Championship. That’s what got you your seat. You have proven that you’re good enough. Got it?" he said, looking at his younger brother intently who just nodded after a while, his eyes still trained on his niece "And now come on. I want to go for a little walk with her, and now that Enzo brought my new car, we can drive a little out of town to somewhere quiet. Let’s worry about racing and that all tomorrow again, okay?"

"Okay… but just so you know, I’ll sit next to her in the car, I just love looking at her…" Arthur smiled a little and Charles chuckled.

"Same, Arthur, same."

"It’s cancelled. You can go home." Mia said and Charles cocked an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah… I know you just arrived early this morning… but it’s official. You won’t race. You can go home." she smiled at him and it didn’t take Charles longer than 5 minutes to pack his bag and leave.

"Hey! You’re leaving?" Carlos.

Charles stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly "I thought we had this dinner with some sponsors later on? Discuss what we can do to help? Or at least that’s what Silvia said?"

He was right. Silvia told him about it, but also said that if the race got cancelled she would make Carlos attend alone.

"Yeah-… umm. I know… it’s just- there is a family emergency back home. I have to go." Charles lied and his team mate looked at him empathically.

"Oh shit, mate. I hope nothing too serious?"

"No. It’s, it’s not too bad, but I have to check in and make sure it stays that way."

"Alright. Do that. And take care, the streets are flooded at some parts and the re-routing isn’t working at all times…" the Spaniard clapped his back and Charles smiled at him.

"Will do, thanks. And sorry for leaving you alone with Silvia and the wolves…" he felt bad.

"Don’t worry, cabrón."

Charles slipped into his car, starting the engine, his mind already at home with his little one. He drove off the Ferrari premises and quickly made his way to the motorway, thankfully without any serious delays or issues. When he finally arrived back home in Monaco and parked his car he leaned back in his seat. Closing his eyes for a minute. He flinched when his phone beeped and he saw a text from his manager, Nicolas, coming through. A new brand collaboration. He sighed, closing the message and getting out of the car. Another gig would mean more time away from his daughter. Something he didn’t like.

Charles quietly closed the door behind him, slipping of his shoes, when he heard the soft voice of his mother, cooing at her. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching his mother sitting in the rocking chair, his beautiful baby girl in her arms and his heart almost bursted.

"Look, little Ava, your papa is here…" Pascale cooed to the little girl and got up, walking over to her son.

"Hi my little princess…" he smiled at her and then kissed his mother’s cheek "Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll take her and you can go."

"Take all the time that you need." she replied, sitting back down in the chair "We are just fine…"

"I can see that." Charles chuckled and grabbed some fresh clothes, making his way into the bathroom, where he took a quick shower before joining his mother and daughter again.

"You look tired, Charles…" Pascale looked worriedly at her son, dark circles under his eyes.

"Driving late last night to Maranello, just an hour or two of sleep in the morning and then driving straight back home around noon? Yeah… I’m tired. But it’s okay. I would do everything for her…" Charles yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Why don’t you eat something and I make Ava bed ready? Change her, feed her, take her to bed and then you can go to bed as well and take over from then on?" his mother gently rubbed his arm "There are some leftovers in the fridge."

"Sounds like a plan. A good plan…" he mumbled, walking out of the room to warm up the leftovers, eating in silence before returning to his bedroom where Ava was already sleeping in her crib.

"Look at this little angel." Pascal whispered.

"She is perfect." Charles replied quietly, disappearing in his bathroom, getting bed ready himself "You should stay here Maman, it’s late."

"I’ll be fine, don’t worry. You sleep now!" she kissed his cheek "Good night, Charles."

"Good night, Maman… and thank you."

"Not for that…"

The next days Charles spent in pure bliss with his little girl. He felt like he learnt every other moment something new about her, saw a new expression in her face, a new movement of her head.

"Look! It’s like she understands what I’m saying!" he exclaimed "You’re so clever, Ava! So, so clever!"

"She doesn’t understand you. She just recognises your voice!" Lorenzo chuckled but his younger brother didn’t listen "So- umm have you thought about what to do during the Monaco GP?"

"What do you mean?" Charles looked up from his daughter, cocking an eyebrow.

"Charles, you cross the street on any normal day and at least a dozen of people swarm you here. But this week? It’s going to be crazy! Your fans will even follow Maman around, as soon as they spot her somewhere, imagine how they would stalk her if they saw her with a stroller… and she can’t stay inside the entire week with Ava! Also, everyone knows that she’s always in the paddock in Monaco. If she’s not here this year, people will start talking, and when they talk, they will look even more for her…"

"Fu-… damn. I haven’t even thought about that… but you’re right. Oh god what am I supposed to do? I don’t want people to assume that something is wrong with Maman, first Baku and the mysterious family matter why I arrived late, then the dinner in Imola that I didn’t attend because of a family emergency… if she’s not here this weekend… some people would start looking for her..." Charles leaned back, ruffling his hair.

"So umm we- no Charlotte had an idea… when I talked to her about it. We weren’t really spotted together by anyone, so she’s kinda unknown, no one would connect her in any way to you… she could take care of Ava? Go for a walk here and there with her? Watch her at least enough for Maman to be at qualifying and the race?"

"And she would be okay with that? Didn’t you ask her to join you this weekend?"

"She wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t okay, I’ll ask her to join me next weekend then." Lorenzo replied and Charles nodded.

"If it’s okay for her? She would definitely help me out big time."

"I’ll text her then…" he said and typed away in his phone, a reply coming through almost immediately "'I can’t wait to spend some time with the precious little princess'"

"She’s an angel, tell her that. Thank you! Like seriously. Next weekend in Barcelona, you book the nicest, most luxurious hotel for you two, take her to dinner to the best restaurant. My treat."

"Stop that. She loves to help out. Also, she loves Ava, I think we’re doing her a bigger favour…" Lorenzo laughed but Charles shook his head.

"Doesn’t matter. My treat next weekend."

"She’ll be delighted."

"It’s like this." Charles mumbled, shaking his head while leaving the garage with Andrea.

"You can still get up on top…" he replied but Charles scoffed "It’s not impossible! Just wait… and even if not, then you drive home and cuddle your little girl."

"Yeah. Holding her is better than lifting any trophy out there." the driver smiled.

"See? That’s the spirit." his athletic trainer bumped his shoulder.

"Yeah, I’m trying to…"

"Now come on. Let’s get home, eat something and relax, tomorrow is a new day."

And although Charles gave his best, he wasn’t able to make up any positions. He climbed out of his car, frustrated and congratulated Max on his win.

"Well done mate, congrats."

"Thanks man." Max clapped his back and smiled "Maybe next year you’ll beat the curse."

"There is no curse. Just me or my team not delivering." Charles mumbled and walked off.

He knew how everyone talked about his Monaco curse, but looking at it, it was always just a mistake by himself or, like last year, his team. After his weighing he made his way back to the Ferrari garage and prepared for the media pen.

"Hey Charles. Another year, another disappointing result for you. What went wrong?"

"I didn’t qualify good enough. In Monaco your starting position is crucial for the race outcome. And with the penalty, starting in P6, in the middle of the DRS train in Monaco? Yeah you will most likely finish in P6, like I did." Charles sighed.

"You complained about the stiffness of the car, do you think that will be an issue next week in Barcelona as well?"

"I don’t know. We will see I guess. If the car is like this next week… we have to wait and see…"

"It’s your home GP so now you go home, have a little time with your family and then off to Barcelona?"

"Yeah. Weekend debrief with the team now and then back home where my da-…" Charles stopped abruptly, eyes wide, thinking about what to say "Where my dance partners in crime wait for me." he scolded himself.

"Dance partners in crime?" the reporter cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah after a race like today I need to dance it out, you know?"

"Okay… umm- then have fun and see you next weekend."

Charles could kick himself. He had to be more careful from now on.

"You covered that up quite well…" Mia whispered, seeing how tense Charles was "Sure it was a little… well it was different. Nothing people are used to from you but it’s okay…"

"Dance partners in crime? Dance it out?" he sighed.

"Yeah, I mean, after this weekend? Who wouldn’t want to dance it out." she squeezed his shoulder "Now come on, let’s make this quick and then you can go home, to your dance partner in crime."

"Very funny." Charles groaned and when he finally slipped of his shoes back at home, he couldn’t wait to see his daughter, knowing that she would make him forget the whole weekend with just one little smile.

"She was just a perfect little angel." Charlotte smiled at him when he walked into his living room "She watched her daddy race and then she fell asleep, just like a good little girl."

"There wasn’t much to watch today, no?" Charles mumbled, picking his daughter up from the sofa "But it’s okay… I’m here now…"

"You’ll come back stronger next week."

"I guess we’ll see."

Chapter 6 - Ladies and Gentlemen, baby Ava has arrived and she’s already wrapping EVERYONE around her tiny little fingers. Writing Charles as a dad is one of my favourite things and I can’t wait for you all to read more about him and his little girl.

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc @fangirlforever2000 @queensassybitchsworld

[yanderederee]

SickDay

April 24th, 2004

a/n: THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG PLEASE I DONT CARE IF ITS GOOD JUST TAKE IT PLEASE😩

before … › here! › next…

-almost direct continuation of I’m Rooting for You!-

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Midnight

After running away from the scene of the brawl yesterday night, you were a little nervous watching your back on the way home. Actually, it was kind of a long way from home.

Unfamiliar with the paths before you, you think to yourself if it’d be a good idea to wait for Baji or Chifuyu to walk you home. It might have been a good idea, but recalling the sequence of events just moments ago, you felt it may be too embarrassing to face them so soon.

Your face began to warm up, which was pleasant against the unsuspecting cold night that was tonight.

Remembering just a few minutes ago, you vividly recall Baji’s pitch black locks falling in frame around his face. You remembers how close you’d gotten to his lips. How you expressed your admiration on the way he fought.

Unable to stop yourself from reminiscing further, you daydreamed of his powerful punches sending his opponent flying feet away.

Couldn’t stop but recall all the similar warning gestures he’s since mirrored. Sticking up for you when spoke badly of you… pretending to be your boyfriend in public to keep flirtatious men away from you…

Baji was subject to protecting you no matter the circumstance.

The thought of being someone’s first priority almost brought tears to your eyes.

And suddenly, a sneeze ripped through your respiratory system.

Ah shit.

Luck really was not on your side tonight. It was dark out, really, dark out. The damn cold weather bit you into an unbearable chill, body already under a decent amount of stress with school starting up, mind being preoccupied with worrying about Baji, and realizing now, you’re damn lost.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

April25th,Morning

Toman won the fight that happened the night before, yet Baji felt none of the winners savory taste.

He was more concerned with how he would have to greet you when you came in for class.

Would you wave at him and ask him about how Sango spent her evening?

Or would you politely smile and ignore him, widening the space between you til nothing, not even relationship between Tutor and Student exist?

While there was no hope for it, a very small part of Baji was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you would bring up the reason for the almost kiss you two shared.

It was bugging him all day.

That kiss— the almost kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The warmth of your breath, how soft the palms of your hand felt against his cheeks.

—- the twinkle of excitement in your eye.

He remembered every little bit of that moment.

So, coming into class, he was unusually giddy. Even with bruising and other reckless cuts, Baji felt like he was glowing. Victorious after battle, about to show off the efforts of battle to the girl he literally can’t stop thinking about.

Even after coming in extra early to beat you to class, he was shocked to notice you never came in.

The bell rang, and the only seat of the classroom empty was yours.

His blood ran cold with the worst case scenario.

After the scene that happened last night, you were bound to be the face and talk of town.

He felt so fucking stupid.

He would come rushing to your protection without even the drop of a pen—faster than a pen could fall to the ground—would he have eliminated the dangers baring themselves at you.

But when you were out of sight?

How could he know? And now, with you gone from class, static rang loud in his ears.

In an attempt to remain diligent, he pushed the thoughts down. You were smart. You always proved yourself capable one way or another. Maybe you were just a little late? Everyone is human, after all.

First block passes,

then second.

There was no sight of you, and Baji couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m callin it early,” Baji grunted, very grumpy, gathered his bag. “Woah, wait a sec there, where’s the fire?” Ryusei asked.

Baji glared at him. “Don’t play dumb, I ain’t in the mood for your damn jokes today.”

Ryusei immediately slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back a laugh and any further comments.

“What’s wrong?” Chifuyu rose a brow, worried.

“None of your damn business!” Baji bit back, storming out of class during intermission.

“It’s cause his girlfriend isn’t in class,” Ryusei nudged Chifuyu, still confused.

“But yesterday, she had no idea what kind of life Baji was leading.. she’s bound to have questions.” Ryusei hummed. “Probably why she isn’t here right now. To give herself some time to process it all.”

“I guess’so.. is it a good idea for him to go see her then, though?” Chifuyu asked with nerves. “Leave them be,” Ryusei waved off, yawning. “The captain’s instinct are usually right on the nose, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Your home was so quiet.

It was always so quiet.

No one was ever home, besides when it was inconvenient for you. So of course, whenever you became sick, they were never there.

When you woke up at 9am, to banging at your door, it’s abrupt and disorienting. God, why was it so bright?

That’s right. School. You’re not there, you realize. You don’t usually sleep in this late, so deeply.

“Just go away,” you groaned, realizing just how awful you feel. “Can’t do this right now.”

But the banging never stopped.

Begrudgingly, you groaned again and started your way to the front door. You didn’t get very far before a thick wave of dizziness hit you. You rammed your body right into the wall, legs supporting you only as best they could while your head spiraled in pain.

The banging never fucking stopped.

“Shut up!” You yelled, overwhelmed. And correctly, you were met with silence. You sighed, relieved. Once you had gathered your bearings, you pulled your feet forward and began for the front door again.

Face to chest, you’re met with a wall of person when you open the door. Too close, you thought before stepping back and looking up at none other than Baji Keisuke.

“Baji? Why aren’t you at school?” you scolded first, a little harshly. You’d forgotten all about your fever for a moment.

Yet he didn’t answer your question.

“I should be asking you that, dumbass.” He said as though he were relieved, if only for a moment.

You were safe, at home.

“You weren’t in class. You’re no good at taking care of yourself, got worried you didn’t make it home safe…’s all.” He shrugged, your vulnerability making him more honest. You chuckled, “I can take care of myself just fine,” closing your eyes for a few moments, a slim moment of peace, before suddenly you felt like air.

“H-hey!” Baji whistled when he caught you from stumbling to the floor. “What kind of joke is that?” Baji yelled at you, though it had small reminiscence of laughter.

Your head rolled around a few times before you could see straight. “Hey, focus. … at me… h-“ you heard him talk, but your head just wouldn’t stop spinning. Rolling, tumbling, your head throbbed.

Baji chose to bite his tongue and simply pull you up into his arms, looking around to realize the house was so still. So cold, with poor ventilation. He quickly makes yourself comfortable on the couch in the room over.

“Don’t try to get up, got that?” He asked you, attempting to gauge your awareness. You hummed, eyes lulling shut and open slowly. “Tired…” you mumbled, shivering toward him, the only heat among the dead wood around you.

It broke Baji’s heart, seeing you so cold, sick, sweaty, tired and overworked. “Stay there, I’m gonna grab some blankets, okay?” He asked once more. Softly, you open your eyes, blinking a few times before he could tell your vision came into focus.

Baji shrieked at the way you looked at him, So sad.

“Come back,” you said softly.

He had absolutely no idea what to do in that moment. Baji’s heart broke at just how bottomlessly sad your gaze was.

So void and lonely, you were finally being comforted at your weakest, by none other than Baji—hair wild and disheveled, sharp eyes making eye contact with you.

He had to be responsible, for your sake. As tempting as it would be to pull you in close and keep you warm directly, he knew the right thing to do now would be to engulf you in blankets, and medicate you.

Baji patted your hand before standing up. “Ain’t listening to the words of’a sick person. No more talking, get some rest.” He looked you over once more, “I’ll be back.”

Making swift work of your home, he searched the closets for spare bedding or blankets. Baji soon found what he was looking for. He took all that he could hold, which was at least four blankets worth, and hoisted them to the living room. The kotatsu blanket’s thickness helped make a good base for a pull-out-couch type of setting.

Keisuke looked over at you, asleep and shivering with only a throw blanket around your shoulders. “C’mere,” Baji caught your attention, trying to get you to get up. Wordlessly, you pull your arms up, motioning for him to lift you. How shameless, he chuckled.

You definitely didn’t have a filter at this point. He answered your silent plea by scooping one arm under your bent knees, and the other under your arms to lift you with ease.

Going to lay you down among the laid out bedding, he’s stuck, he realizes when you aren’t letting him go. “Y-y/n, hey,” Baji tried shaking you off, only to realize you weren’t interested in listening; glossy eyes were instead tracing his features, much to his embarrassment. “What?” He asked.

“Warm..” you mumbled, seemingly ready to drift back off to sleep at any moment.

Baji cleared his throat, attempting to pull you off him. “Hang tight, there’s plenty of bedding here to warm you up, so-“ he tried using rational reasoning, but you mearly groaned at such a notion.

Baji rolled his eyes at how childish you were acting, yet it brought a smile to his face all the same. “Yeah yeah, just stay here.” He said, finally managing to loosen your grip around him and tuck you into the plush below.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, clearly delirious. Oh boy, your honesty was killing him. Literally, he felt as though his heart was beating out from his chest. “What?” He asked again.

“It’s silly, I couldn’t stop thinking about just how pretty I thought you were up close, yet you were like a beast when you were fighting.” You laughed dully. “It just.. made me so happy, seeing you actually enjoy yourself like that.”

Baji’s heart fluttered at your words, taking all that he wanted say away from him. Silence broke through the house once more, and by the time Baji found the words he wanted to say, you were dead asleep. Didn’t take much.

Deciding to put the words in his back pocket for later examination, instead spending his time getting to work. While you were cooking in your own body heat under a mass of blankets, fighting off the cold, Keisuke racked his brain on what he could do.

First thing first, you needed medicine.

Right.

Where did you keep the medicine?

He felt no shame raking through the multiple medicine cabinets you (or rather, your parents) had, staking that there wasn’t anything worthy to hide anyway.

And while most would consider Keisuke a failure in the kitchen (he is), he did have the basic skill sets to make a (bland) miso soup, and rice. Warm broth for your throat, and something with substance to fill your stomach. Any strong flavors were sure to make you hurl, he made a half-added excuse for his poor culinary skills.

On a corner table nearby, Baji left a dose of medicine for you, as well as a cold glass of water. He had to make sure you were properly hydrated too. While the rice and soup were simmering, he made quick work to liven up the depressing living area. Opening up the Always closed curtains, he also cracked a window to let in little bits of fresh air.

Making use of a randomly found humidifier, he also made sure to find space to plug that in. Keisuke actually felt kind of proud, after going through a mental check-list of what he should do next.

Checking on you didn’t seem like a bad idea. Shuffling closer, he found you peacefully asleep, though he could Hear the congestion you’d built up.

Definitely going to need some tissues.

Before he ventured for those too, he took a moment to admire your own features. A smile crept up on him again. For some reason, he felt like he can hear your giggles echoing through the empty house. You’re usual jabs when pointing out a mistake he made, or how you’d snicker and gossip with his mom when he was in the other room.

More and more, he imagined you in every scenario, smiling and by his side. Keisuke chuckled when he finally brought himself back to reality, opting to grab those tissues he forgot to bring before. And just as he made it back again, he was greeted with your sat up posture.

“Sup sleepyhead,” Baji called out low, tapping the packaging of the tissues into your lap. “B-Baji?! W-when d-“ but before you could conjure anything more, a fit of coughs ripped out of your chest, heaving you forward to cover your mouth. “Don’t worry about the details, just stay put.” Baji waved off your shocked expression.

With the rice and soup ready, he quickly made a bowl of each and presented them to you on a dinner tray your parents had plenty of. “Get some of that gross stuff out of your system, you sound like an old hag.” He chuckled at your offended gasp. But he was right, congested and backed up as your sinuses were. “I-I’ll be right back!” You mumbled before taking the tissue with you to the bathroom, opting to help clear your nose and throat in private.

After washing your hands, you waddled back into the living room; dizzy, disheveled, and red nosed. “I feel awful…” you admitted in a dragged out tone. “You look awful.” he snickered back, earning a swift jab along his neatly parted hair. “Asshole,” you rolled your eyes, and sat back in your plush fort.

“These for me?”

You asked, pointing to the soup and rice.

“No, I got snacky and decided to raid your fridge. Of corse they’re for you dummy.”

You giggled at him and nodded, looking over the dishes in delight. “Thanks.. I’m starving.” You admitted before going in for the rice immediately. He watched patiently as you ate, properly and slow. Taking half-spoon-fulls rice, you gently dunk the spoon into the bland soup to eat both in one bite. “If you don’t mind, could you check the pantry for the dried konbu? I like my soup with some extra.”

Usually for these kinds of requests, you wouldn’t even bother asking Keisuke to do this for you. But seeing him now, doting and attentive, you almost felt obligated to make the most of it. “I saw some, just a sec.” He nodded, before hoisting himself back up and into the kitchen. True to his word, he brought back your requested item. “Want any more, rice or soup?” He asked, holding out his hand for the bowl. “Soup please, thank you.” You smiled warmly at him. He smiled back.

Once your finished the food, he took the dishes and washed them in your sink. He was much more used to house chores than he let on. Thanks Ryoko! “There’s some medicine on the table over there, make sure to take it!” Baji yelled from the other room.

“You’re so domestic, I could get used to seeing this side of you,” you chuckled upon his return, medicine taken and water cup empty.

“Blah blah, don’t get used to it,” he pinched your nose, unexpectedly making you sneeze a few seconds after. Quick for the tissue again, you glared at him, who only laughed.

“You feeling any better?” He asked, noticing your form shriveling back into the covers. “Mmhm,” you nodded, but your downcast eyes made him think otherwise. “Fever doesn’t seem to have broke yet,” he observed, pressing the back of his finger tips to your cheek, hot and pulsating. “Hang tight, I’ll get you a cold rag.”

Keisuke seemed to fret over all he could. It was touching. Feeling airy again, you shuffled deeper into the blankets, yawning. “Still sleepy? That’s fine, get lots of rest.” Baji returned, bowl of water and rag in hand. “Sure,” you nodded, waiting for him to hand you the rag.

But rather than, he rung the rag of eccess water, and reached over to put the cloth over your forehead for you.

And fuuuuuuuuck, Did it feel like heaven. You moaned innocently, it’s sudden coldness made you feel so at ease.

“Well, I guess you got it from here,” Baji mumbled, looking over the living room he’d set you up in to see if he could do anything further. “Take the next dose of medicine in the next, uh.. two hours? Or was it four… shit,” he grumbled, opting to check the box for the seventh time.

“What time is it?” You asked, eyes too blurry to read the time.

“Just a little past one o’clock.” He answered, laying the next dose of medicine by your refilled water glass.

“You got plans?” You asked, sniffling.

“Well, I already walked out of class, so I’ll probably ditch the rest of the day n’ hang out with Mikey.” Baji answered honestly.

You kept silent for a little while. “If.. you want, I have a bunch of good scary movies we could put on the tv.” You suggested softly.

“But you’ve already done a lot for me today, so don’t feel like you have to or anything,” you added, slowly feeling yourself sinking into the excuse pit the average people-pleaser would.

You couldn’t lie, it was pretty painful having to take care of yourself when you were sick. Often neglecting meals, since nothing sounded digestible. Or opting to stay in bed because grabbing medicine was too much work.

“Thanks for coming to check on me.. it really means a lot for you to have gone out of your way for me like this…”

Baji’s heart stopped when he heard you say that. The smile you added on to the sentence making him feel all the more proud. Sporting a blush of his own, he dropped his bag and settled in.

“What kind of movies we talkin here?”