#much supervision over what they were doing and saying online

[skepticalarrie]

.

[apompkwrites]

(gender neutral reader btw)I was reading your vil sibling story and I was wondering what would his reaction be if we just disappeared, like deleted all social media and just moved to another place like we never existed but then after a couple months we just happened to come up again? re-appear in recent news and stuff. (sorry english is not my first language so they are probably mistakes but I really enjoy your works :D)

vil, as much as he has trouble showing it, loves his little sibling. that much i can promise. however, he cannot for the life of him express that love until after his overblot.

so if (name) up and left, leaving behind nothing but memories of their fractured life, before vil's overblot, i don't think he'd handle it well. in private at least.

he's an expert at disguising his emotions. he's an actor, he has to be. so no one will see what he actually feels about his sibling's disappearance. he'll manufacture this statement supervised by a pr team, addressing the fact that he will not disclose any details as to allow the authorities time to investigate properly, but that's about it for his public appearance. he might mentions things in interviews about them, but he won't say much more than that.

it's not because he doesn't want to find them or doesn't care. in fact, he does this because he cares. a bit too much.

he can't talk more about them in public without losing his composure. his precious baby sibling whom he's seen grow is just. gone. he doesn't know where and he doesn't know if they're safe. all he knows is they were practically driven away from their home by the supposed "fans" they had garnered over the years.

that is a part of his statement that was not monitored by a pr team. simply because he needs his point to get across. he will never tolerate the sort of behavior that they have put his sibling through.

even though he had done the same, albeit not to the same degree.

as for reappearing, he'd go through hell and back just to find them if they don't come home and he instead finds them online again. he needs to make up with them. he can't stand the idea that he was a part of the reason his sibling ran away.

he'll do anything to be a better brother. as long as you give him the chance to.

[charliemwrites]

ok like as much as i love the feral kept keeper au, at some point, she's going to loose it. there's a finite amount of time Simon can keep her in there interacting with the same 4 people over and over again wo a job before she genuinely looses it. i feel like at some point, Simon knows she has to be gently reintegrated into society bc she just gets depressive episode after depressive episode and nothings helping?

covid times made everyone depressed and if you think about it we lived in slightly better circumstances bc most of us lived with other ppl and could online chat whoever we wanted AND were not limited to 4 strange men for irl contact.

what makes this au unique is the fact that Simon doesn't want to reintegrate her into society, he doesn't want to tame her, he doesn't want them to be a 'normal couple', which is refreshing, but it is absolutely not sustainable for a human to have such limited social interaction and no actual purpose like a job. I think that's what'll get her in the end?

everyone says they'd love it, but literally we'd ALL get bored in two months and start to spend all our time scrolling and doing nothing and getting depressed. yk during summer, after a while you've hung out with all your friends and done all your plans and you start to miss the busy feeling of school? that'd happen to her but times a hundred times worse. imagine having absolutely no goals, no going out, and 4 guys. thats bound to break her eventually. write a little (not necessarily canon) ending to her isolation for me?

Hey, aurora! Per usual, you’re spot on. In all practicality, extensive isolation would have really damaging long term effects on Feral, even interacting with the other 141 members.

So there’s a few ways this can go that I’ve written or discussed. There’s the route where she slowly gets outside privileges, as in going on drives, then running errands while supervised, then traveling together, until finally she’s given freedom to venture out on her own.

There’s a scenario where the rest of the 141 dies except Gaz and she’s left with him. Slowly she reintegrates, but never fully. They stay together probably for the rest of their lives (platonically or romantically)

Lastly, there’s what I consider the “worst case” scenario where she asks Gaz to get her out. He does, but she’s essentially in a witness protection type of life from then on. Reintegrating is much harder this way, but she’d force herself to do it to better blend in and not be found.

Any or all of these are valid! If you need me to send you links, let me know!

[duckyfruitbat]

YoHoHo, It's a New Era of Pirating

I'm sure a lot of us have been ruminating on this lately, but first I want to draw some parallels.

Picture it, the year is 2005 and you are watching a movie you picked out with your grandma at blockbuster during your weekend visit to give your parents a god damned break from your bullshit. Relatable so far yes? You pop that disk in and sit down as grandma makes the popcorn and an odd little PSA comes up between the previews. It's the infamous pirating PSA that compares downloading films to car jacking. So what do you do? You download copious amounts of pirated music onto the computer under your fathers supervision of course, still pretty relatable right?

You have entered the world of media piracy my friend, an old tradition with a rich culture and history. The early 2000's were some wild times, piracy was at its peak, the internet was a lawless land, and the 2008 housing bubble was just around the corner, truly a glorious time.

Now needless to say, publishing companies hated piracy and were desperately trying to curb it but only through legislation through a government that didn't really care. It was already hard enough to catch one pirate so why waste resources to crack down on it. There was an attempted crackdown by the publishers but that completely failed, one infamous case was a grandma who didn't even have a computer.

This age of piracy was only stopped when Itunes and Netflix made their way online. That was only because everything was on these two websites and later also Hulu. The only people who continued to pirate were kids who didn't have money and anime fans. There were two specialized websites just for them.

Everything was going smoothly, until we get to today, now every studio has at least one streaming service and even then there is no guarantee that their own shows would even be up and they're all owned by the same five corporations. Discovery got in trouble not too long ago for deleting their own shows from their own streaming service. Disney still has a backlog to upload onto Disney+, and there are many exclusives between each site. It's very similar to what cable and satellite television was, gotta pay over a hundred dollars and you don't even watch half the channels. These streaming services are getting too specialized, sure it makes business sense especially when you already have a large library or you're just Disney, but when there are obscure TV channels trying to get their own service, you know something's wrong.

Somehow the music industry didn't go the same path, yes Spotify has its problems, especially for musicians, but it is far better than purchasing entire albums or the old piracy methods that always put your computer at risk.

The obvious consequence of all this is that piracy is once again going up once again. Why? Because it is far easier to pirate than it is to figure out which steaming service that Disney owned show you want to watch is on. The only reason Itunes and Netflix originally won was because it was more convenient to actually pay for the things you wanted to see and not have to worry about malware. That's a lesson that these corporations could benefit from again, but they are if anything stubborn.

Now because of the stubbornness of these corporations I will have a lot to talk about, specifically with all sorts of pirating methods, and some fun stories. I already talked about Tengen and their massive swinging balls of steel as they walked into the patent office to steal from Nintendo, but there is so much more. So plenty of legally dubious fun to be had!

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Okay so I'm seeing a lot of 'Sun sucks at cooking he he can't make cereal properly leave the cooking to Moon he's the best at it' in domestic aus

And that's great! I love that idea! But consider the following: absolutely none of you know anything about cooking.

I mean, sure, Sun's been cutting apple slices with peanut butter for so long he's got it down to an art, and his PB &J sandwiches are to die for. Moon's got directions to make tea and applesauce and instant jello for the kids that they share in their headspace. But that's pretty much the limit for their cooking expertise. So put them near a toaster? Yeah, they can figure it out. A microwave? Moon put a fork in it to see what would happen after Sun saw something about it online and got to 20 seconds before you slam into the kitchen and shut it off. And then talk their audio receptors off by scolding them for putting metal in the microwave and being in the kitchen without your supervision.

All you have to send them is a look and they decide to leave the oven alone.

Speaking of your skills...

Well.

While you're no 'master chef', you've picked up enough to scrape by. A few years on your own will do that to you. Compared to what your boys know, you're practically a god in the kitchen.

So you, with your grand total of maybe 15-20 recipes (half of which have cottage cheese or yogurt incorporated into them) are appointed head of the kitchen.

You're really only slightly better than the boys, but you at least know how to turn on a stove. Still, your skill level is really only enough to make the same few meals throughout the week. So, you all decide to figure it out together.

You look up some recipes online, grab some stuff from the store and dump it all onto the counter. The ingredients are nothing you haven't seen before (the boys regard the flour as some foreign and ancient play-doh from the stone ages), but you can't remember the last time you bought some of this stuff.

After you take in the wonders of vanilla extract and brown sugar, you pick something hopefully easy enough that it'll be impossible to mess up. Cookies aren't that hard. You remember making them when you were younger, and they usually came out alright.

You also remember that you were 9 and had adult supervision to make sure you didn't screw up.

And now you're the most competent adult in this operation.

You try not to picture the apartment going down in flames.

It doesn't actually go terribly. You manage to handle it pretty well, all things considered. Moon grabs your wrist before you pour the eggs into the flour, reminding you that you're supposed to do your dries, then your wets, and then your chips. You're pretty sure he only reminded you so he can keep sneaking chips into his cheeks when you're not looking, but you let him have it. You also elect not to say anything when you catch them pouring more chips into the bowl when you're not looking.

Sun spends the entire time obsessing over the shape of the cookies, making sure they're all perfectly rounded and spread out on the pan. Moon wedges a chocolate chip deep into the center of a few of them, watching his brother panic over the now 'ruined' cookies. He gets over it eventually, though, joining his brother in front of the oven to watch the dough rise and expand as the torturous waiting for them to bake begins. You pull out the tray and inspect your work.

They're...not that bad, in all honesty. There are little things that could be improved, but otherwise, you're pretty proud of your guy's progress.

You're not as happy about the mess, though. It looks like a hurricane has stormed through your kitchen, a fact that is quickly brought to the attention of your boys as they scramble to wipe down countertops and toss eggshells away.

...

I dunno how to end this cuz my endings suck so there it is, thank you for attending my ted talk.

[aeolianblues]

Things I’ve come to learn in the last 48 hours:

UK roads are so much bumpier than North American roads. I have rediscovered that I used to be the most motion sick person you knew. I haven’t been road queasy in six years.

The upside is I simply cannot go on my phone out of boredom. Tumblr would’ve made me throw up on the road. Unfortunately, so would’ve reading the maps. The other upside is I am on fucking international roaming, so I really shouldn’t be using my data liberally anyway.

You all are so nice. You are so fucking nice. Holy fuck, the stereotype of the stoic Brit does not really apply in practice. You’re the nicest people, holy shit.

Also, you are one of the countries where neighbourhoods still feel like communities. Street WhatsApp groups, knowing your neighbours’ names, being in their lives, drinking together. I know only two of my neighbours, and one I know because they were being a dick to me and the other I know because I was bitching about the dicking to my other neighbours and then I asked their name.

The drinking culture is real. Holy fuck. I have consumed more alcohol in under 48 hours than I have in 5 years of being able to buy my own drinks with 0 parental supervision on my day-to-day life in Canada. But how can I blame you? Somehow, your drinks just taste nicer. For one, they don’t taste like $11 of piss.

Youse… how do I put this! You’re able to galvanise prettiness into discounts and free stuff. And it works. I don’t fucking know how. I’ve witnessed the magic with a dropped jaw. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that your servers aren’t under Damocles’ sword of tipping. Flirting in this country does the job of a voucher.

Youse don’t like Americans, do you. I get away here because I’m obviously not American, and to the passing ear I would pass more close to British than authentically Canadian because of my Indian accent (idk how either man, this is just what people tell me), but you are very acutely attuned to the stereotypes. You ever wonder if something is more of online heresay and that people don’t actually feel that way in the real world? It may be so with Canadians, I could mention most stereotypes about Canadians and Brits would be like, ‘huh, I didn’t know that’ (case in point, I said to a few today that Americans think of us first when they talk about weed, and they were like ‘huh. We just think of Amsterdam’). When it comes to the stereotypes about Americans, you know and will tell me every single one. Your friends are exceptions, they don’t disprove the rule.

Adding on to the point about niceness and stereotypes, you are surprisingly willing to travel long distances to meet friends. I’ve already had like four friends offer to travel fairly significant distances to see me while I’m here. I promise to reciprocate, obviously! People say all the time that Europeans don’t do well with the kind of distances North Americans are just used to because the continent is vast, and my bestest friend, a Londoner, is allergic to anything over 20 minutes to the point where I’ve just told her I’m coming to her house. I’ll sort travel, and we can sedate her if it gets longer than 20 (legally that is a joke). Perhaps you’ll grumble every minute of your 2.5-hour long trip, but if there is a train that goes, you will get on it.

Oddly, I’ve similarly had Americans be okay with driving out long distances to catch up. Canadians need to step up their game, holy fuck, I’ve had ‘friends’ in the same city who can’t be bothered to make a 15 minute trip, and this isn’t one or two people, over six years I’ve just noticed this is a Canadian thing. Yeah, we’re ‘nice’ but from a distance. Don’t ever come to our houses. Bye. Step up, Canadians. (My door is always open, I promise.)

You end your nights early. Here I thought we close down early.

The way you call Teslas ‘tezzies’ will actually kill the man dead. Keep up the good work.

[redlegumes]

Little Monster Chapter 2:

On AO3

"His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes."

Steve Harrington finds and loses love, finishes high school stealth, and is pulled into the mysteries and horrors of the Upside Down. (Transpires over the events of Stranger Things Seasons 1-3)

CHAPTER AFTER THE CUT IS MATURE 18+

Notes:

A lot of CW's for this chapter, trying to cover my bases.

I'd say I hope the warnings don't discourage you from reading, but they're literally here so people can make informed choices about the entertainment they're consuming. So please read the warnings.

CW: Mild homophobia, parental transphobia, mild internalized transphobia, canon based underaged sexual history discussed as well as high school aged Steve and Nancy sex talk (mature but not explicit), brief bully Billy Hargrove appearance, high school locker room verbal bullying/homophobia, Steve Harrington has bad parents, verbal abuse, disownment

Turning sixteen meant Steve secured a driver's license with his gender and name, thanks to his birth certificate being handled when it was. It also meant testosterone, thanks to his doctor in Chicago that he checked in with virtually. Steve was set up with a prescription and tracked down an online pharmacy that would ship it directly to the house. He didn't mind the needle aspect, it felt like a small price to pay for what he received in exchange. The bottom growth alone was so satisfying. Packers were fine and all, his prosthetics helped immensely, but having his own body shift closer to what he knew it should be was gratifying in ways he couldn't express. But of course there wasn't anyone to share his euphoria with either.

Steve was grateful for what his parent’s money afforded him and his access to medication, but he couldn't tell them that. They only wanted to see him in a tidy little gender box. He was their son, and he 'should be able to manage and maintain that identity' without slipping in the slightest. If anything, as soon as he received the car keys to the BMW it felt as though they were pulling away. Chip and Mitzi Harrington spent more and more time in Indianapolis, and when they were home, the pressure on Steve to present as the perfect son had a whiplash effect on him. One moment he was meant not to care about their frequent abandonment and the next he was expected to treat them as though they'd hung the moon.

Steve started to feel it wasn't his parent's good opinion of him that he needed, it'd never truly been. They weren't going to suddenly love and support him, no matter what hurdles he overcame, the hoops he jumped through. They weren't going to give him more of their time or consideration.

Steve's priorities shifted.

He could use his money and lack of supervision to his advantage. Steve's life alone, at home when his folks were away, didn't need to be a living mausoleum. He could get love and attention from his friends. While he couldn't completely squash that desire to get his parent's acceptance, this would do, and once he started, they didn't even seem to notice. He was fully integrated in the Hawkins High School power dynamic. Whether or not he passed was no longer worry number one. He now had to worry about other incidents. For example, how fast an ambitious sophomore, Cynthia Evans, tried to get her hand down his pants after baseball practice.

Steve liked girls. They were soft. He'd never noticed, before going on T, just how much softer they felt. They smelled lovely too. He found femininity on someone else wasn't a turn off at all. There was something affirming in the differences he clearly saw and felt between himself and female partners. They were foreign yet familiar, the paradox lightly plaguing him as he began to date around. Dating was part of the popularity deal. It also afforded him a little more leeway with his own identity. Steve cared about his hair and clothes obviously because he was a lady killer, not a 'homo' with feminine tendencies that he feared would one day be some sort of smoking gun that outed him.

Though, he still noticed guys.

Men were exciting in a different way. Certain traits, a muscle or light pattern of chest hair, these things drew Steve in beyond just gender envy. But even if he could keep his trans status secret while coming out as bisexual, there'd be no understanding from his folks. Despite the internet and TV show representations becoming more frequent, being bisexual wasn't much of an option around Hawkins. Steve knew if he dated a dude he'd be seen as gay with all the casual homophobia that came with it. He hadn't encountered a girl he wanted to reveal his genital situation to. Being bisexual and having to reveal his bottom bits to a guy? It seemed like a reality he wasn't going to live. General consensus was that it was easier to be a straight, cis dude, and Steve was inclined to agree.

So instead, there was some closeted experimentation. A few cocks sucked in a few locker rooms. Steve found his hookups perfectly content when he asked them not to reciprocate or touch him.

Girls worked similarly. Steve knew all the spots to park in or walk to with a picnic blanket. Sometimes it was just the sweet intimacy in kissing, feeling so adored, desired. But often there was a push for more, and Steve obliged if they did things his way. Nowhere else in his life did he feel as 'in control' then he did in the back seat of his car, with a pair of thighs trembling around his head.

He cycled through dates, getting off the prettiest girls in school, and he did it well enough that the rumors were all praise. No one brought up his avoidance to press his partners for his own climax, and Steve encouraged any whispers that implied he had gotten it. He wasn't struggling with a complete lack of self satisfaction. He found a select few packers that allowed him to really benefit just by rutting against another's body.

It all worked. His identity was secure. Not only secure but envied. However, Steve was beginning to feel deeply lonely. The past few years of high school he'd been propelled by goals to further his transition, remain stealth. Now that he'd secured what anyone could describe as success, there wasn't even a friend he could celebrate with. There was no one in his life he could share his fears or worries with let alone the successes. He had a community, but it began to remind him of paper mache. There was no solid core, only pretty paper that could all melt away.

...

Then came Nancy Wheeler.

Steve was seventeen and he finally felt secure enough. Ready. Ready to let someone see him, know him, perhaps even his story. Nancy was thoughtful and kind. And Steve wanted to… he wanted to do more with her than what he'd done with others. She was so smart. So much smarter than Steve, and yet he could get her flustered, make her blush, and make her smile.

He started to let his guard down around Nancy. He let a lot of the persona he'd developed fade while hanging with her. He didn't need to keep it up like he did with Tommy, his 'best' friend. The bitchy quips and asshole brush offs were designed to keep people from getting too comfortable, to keep himself a little superior, separated, safe. With Nance, he wanted her to press, to touch, and ask. He was ready to answer.

…

He ended up being the one with questions.

Steve climbed up the front of the Wheeler house and in, through the window of Nancy's room, one night. Predictably, she was studying. They'd been not quite 'dating' for a little while… and unlike his other relationships, Steve wanted this one to go further. He wanted more. He wanted it to last.

The night started with helping Nancy study. Steve soon shook his head with laughter as it became clear she knew the subject matter, front and back. Nance was more than prepared for her test the next morning. They were both reclined on either ends of her bed and it struck Steve as though everything was comforting, soft. The lighting, the furnishings, even Nancy's shrewd yet shy smile…

"You know I want to do more with you, Nance," he said, not quite sure how else to word it.

"More than study?" She giggled, raising a manicured eyebrow.

"I normally..." He fidgeted with the flashcards before setting them down. Steve thought he'd mastered moving past nervousness. Guess this situation is different. Well, no reward without risk. "I don't open myself up to a lot of people. I don't actually, um do more than what we've been up to."

Nancy moved a hand out towards him. "Steve, it's okay… you don't have to-"

"-No. I really do. I want for it to be us. For there to be an us? You're not like the other girls."

Nancy's lips twisted into a small, curt smile as she looked away from him, the blush on her cheeks deepening. "Oh my God. Don't say it like that."

"Hah." Steve felt a grin spread over his own face, and he leaned toward her. "I mean you're really special. You Nancy, you make me want more, make me feel like we could have more."

"I think. I think I'd like that." Her eyes snapped back to him as her smile grew wider. "Could be really nice, being an 'us.'"

Steve breathed out a big sigh of relief. His happiness, over Nancy seemingly being on the same page, barely tempered his anxiety transferring to his next confession. Steve swallowed and looked into her sharp blue eyes. "Hey. So, I feel like there's something you ought to know. Something only my parents know about, but I trust you. I don't… believe that you would hurt me with it, if I tell you."

"Steve?" Nancy reached out and this time took his hand. She squeezed it lightly. "I would never knowingly try to hurt you. Sometimes you can be sort of an asshole jock." Steve laughed nervously. "But I wouldn't turn your secrets against you."

He nodded. She truly had such beautiful eyes. Steve stared at the shifting, gentle waters of her gaze and found his center.

"Nancy, I'm trans." The words sounded distant when he spoke them.

Nancy's eyes widened. They flashed over his body and then back up to his face. Her brow furrowed, but she didn't let go of his hand. "Steve, I. Thank you I. I really appreciate that you told me."

Woah, I did it. Wow, okay. "Now you know," he said meekly, building back up the courage to say what he'd wanted to. "I'm serious about you Nancy. If this is a deal breaker... I need to know."

"No!" She looked as surprised as he assumed he did at the speed of her reply. "No, actually I'm good with this. I, I said I was ready to do more. I don't have an issue with the fact that you're, you," she said, squeezing his hand again and glancing down his body. "I mean, seems like some of your parts might just be more familiar to me than what I was expecting."

His mind went blank with the unexpected acceptance. He was so awestruck he couldn't think but to ask, "how would you… would you want to?" He trailed off in a daze, and Nancy leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. Steve had thought it out before but now it was real. "I've got the means to do it the y'know, 'classic' way. If you want."

"The classic way Steve? That makes it sound like I'm ordering a burger."

They laughed together and Steve felt lighter. "We can talk more later if you need time, it's no rush."

"Maybe. I think right now I'd like to kiss you again."

…

The days that followed their first time were confusing to say the least. Steve saw Nancy repeatedly with Jonathan. He took stalker shots of her from the woods behind his house! Steve tried not to even think about what could have happened if he had stood in his window that night. Byers didn't strike him as the type to 'out' somebody, but Steve was angry, scared. He finally opened up, just for it to all come crumbling down? Had Nancy been so disgusted by him that she had to run out and get biodick to erase the memory of his store bought member? Jealousy filled his head and hurt grew in his chest. Tommy and Carol were gleefully ready to turn on Nancy Wheeler after hearing that Steve may have been cheated on. It felt like friendship when they defaced buildings downtown, when they encouraged Steve and Jonathan to fight.

But even in the face of Steve's petty friends, magnifying his hurt, Nancy was true to her word. She didn't reveal his secret and she denied wrongdoing.

Would anyone in his life take that level of character assault and not lash back at him? Use any perceivable weakness to wound him? Later, Steve only wished that Jonathan hadn't had to beat his face in for him to get it. All his fears of discovery, betrayal, loss of the popularity that he'd clung to, believing it was his shield. Those relationships weren't an ounce of what he could have with Nancy. And someday maybe with others? He could have people in his life who really cared for him.

Steve broke with his old friends, cleaned graffiti, and sought after Nancy Wheeler.

The demogorgon adequately summed up why she'd acted so odd.

...

He and Nancy were good for a while after that, finding comfort in one another, and then it began to fall apart. Steve loved her, and she couldn't say it back. He tried to cope with her over Barb's death, but their methods weren't the same. Steve wanted to swallow the sadness and try to move on. Nancy wanted retribution, and a small vengeance. When she set out to find that closure, she didn't seek Steve's aid.

Steve wished that was the summary of his senior year troubles, but then Billy Hargrove came to town.

…

Hargrove had joined the basketball team. He was fresh from California, one of those high school guys who was plainly built like a full adult. His play style was aggressive, and the first practice he joined after making the team he dedicated to shoving Steve around. Steve's game on the court wasn't what it had been. Swimming and his swing at the batting cages were fine, but basketball… Steve now shied from contact heavy plays. His doctor had warned him about concussions after he mentioned a few 'falls' he'd taken that past year during his last check in.

However, Billy seemed determined. It was typical 'prison yard' mentality: establish dominance by beating the best. Steve had been the 'king,' and Billy appeared to hunger for the discarded crown.

After that practice, Steve changed into his swim suit in the locker room handicap stall like he normally did. He was ready for a couple laps in the pool after the mild humiliation on the court.

The locker room was still fairly full when Steve headed toward the pool exit; unfortunately, the crowd included Billy. He was showering and called out loudly enough that it echoed on the tiles, over the shower's spray. "So this 'king Steve' I've been hearing so much about is fucking allowed, flaunting even, that weird ass, full body thing." Billy sneered and shut off the shower head, stalking nude right up to Steve. "How'd you even swim like that man?"

"What, have you never seen a full body speedo? You wanna Google 'men's fastsuit' or do you just never watch Olympic coverage." Steve had defended himself before, but then it had always come with a degree of expectation. Naked Billy ranked high in unnerving and unexpected. He was far too close. Power move bullshit, Steve realized, grimacing. "Man, you don't have to like it and my performance proves it's not an issue, so." Steve moved to sidestep Billy but found himself blocked.

"Sure. You knoooow I'm wondering if you aren't just too self conscious Steve-o. Maybe you just need help with it, huh?" Billy snapped Steve's shoulder strap to punctuate his point.

Steve's skin began to buzz. There was definitely an undercurrent to the hostility in Billy's voice. One he didn't like.

Fuck.

Before he could truly panic, his teammate Brian spoke up, cutting the tension. "Dude, lay off. We need Steve. He's a solid player. Don't fuck with him like that."

"Really?" Billy stepped away, and grabbed a towel. "You pussies all agree?"

Steve was grateful to see the team members still in the locker shoot Billy looks that confirmed just that. Billy's gaze eventually landed on Tommy who had excitedly become Billy's bootlicker since the start of the school year.

For the first time since their friendship's explosive ending in the parking lot, Tommy didn't dig at Steve. He shrugged and mostly mumbled his reply. "We've all got our shit. Besides, I'm not gonna force a dude out of his swimsuit with a bunch of other guys in the locker room showers man. No one's gonna buy that's not some gay shit right there."

"No homo," another player called out from in back to a smattering of laughter. Billy dropped it.

Apart from the harassment 'dick looking ' at the urinals received, Steve found few instances where he was grateful for homophobia. That moment ranked.

...

His parents never asked him about the injuries, the bruising, or the scars that formed after. Though his mother once stopped him, offering cryptic advice concerning vitamin E, shirts that covered arms for all seasons, and make up tips for covering sections of 'damaged' skin.

Steve often wondered just what they thought had happened to him. Not that he volunteered any information. Not like he really could. Steve could tell it made them uncomfortable, even more adverse to his company. He only had the vague outlines of what they expected him to do after high school, but he'd begun to grow anxious about it after college rejection letters started to show up in the mail.

Nance had tried her best to help him, but his sports achievements weren't enough to balance out his piss poor grades. Steve graduated without any acceptance offers from a four year university. He absently wondered if the hits to the head over the years had anything to do with it, or worse (in his own opinion), his mental health.

Steve resigned himself to the fact that there would be no Harrington graduation party. After he walked across the stage and pulled his tassel to one side, he followed his parent's car home. Once the door to the house shut behind them all, his father began a tirade.

"This is ridiculous! The trouble, the cost, to keep your reckless 'identity choice' from scandalizing every friend and colleague our family has and now, no real college would take you?" The indignation was rich coming from his father. He'd never even suggested a specific school Steve should aim for, let alone help with applications. "Do you expect us to stay here another year? Hawkins," he spat out the name. "No. We're leaving this pointless little town. You are taking any office job I can get for you at the firm. This is what I get for giving you carte blanche you ungrateful shit," his father muttered. "I'm done being 'Mr. Nice Guy.'"

Steve's hand clenched as the words bounced around his mind like a pinball machine. "...that's what the last 18 years were? Nice? You barely speak to me. Here I've been grateful you rarely misgender me. No wonder. When was the last time you actually talked to me? If we don't count screaming, I can't remember. The move here was always about you. I would've stayed in Chicago. I wasn't the one who needed to hide who I am. That was always you two!" His eyes fluttered over his mother, including her in his address. He didn't raise his voice. He couldn't bear the thought of mimicking his father that way. "You signed my name change and gender indicator paperwork so others would think you didn't have some freak for a son. I look every inch like your son, so I better at least play that role for you? Look at the car you bought so you didn't have to drive me to practices or pick me up. You're moving?" Steve pushed out another clipped question. "When's the last time you were living here?"

"You're done." Chip Harrington's fist shook, his index finger pointing at Steve. "We're done. You're cut off. This is the last straw. You've rejected all we've tried to give you from your first name to a chance at a future. You disgust me. I want you gone by the time I'm done with work tomorrow."

The declarations and demand didn't fill him with anger. It only made him feel drained. It dawned on Steve that he'd fought to hold up his parents' approval of him and now he couldn't do it anymore. He let it slip away. His care for their opinion was gone. It wasn't a triumphant moment but it sure as hell wasn't a sad one.

…

Steve packed his things.

He didn't want to call Nancy, but he wasn't really sure what he was going to do. Hawkins was too small to have too much in the way of homeless youth resources, and he genuinely didn't want to leave Hawkins; it'd become home. His kids were still there, and he'd learned that they rarely stayed safe. He couldn't abandon them…

So he loaded the beamer with the documents and possessions he could claim entirely as his and got a job at the new mall. He pawned and sold clothes, shoes, and watches to scrounge up enough for rent and a deposit. Steve realized there was a new problem. Who would rent to him? Eighteen years old, no credit score, working minimum wage… disowned…

Steve finally broke down and called the only adult he thought could help: Jim Hopper.

He hadn't known what to expect when what was essentially a gruff acquaintance answered after three rings.

Hopper's first question was if Steve was safe.

"I move the car around to different spots each night. I know the public pool staff, so I go in early to shower there."

Hopper exhaled heavily. "How long have you been living out of the car?"

"Just a couple of weeks..."

"Moving the car regularly, that was smart kid." He sighed again. "Okay, we're gonna get you set up to find some section eight housing. You're going to qualify…" Hopper began before detailing all the assistance Steve did have available to him.

…

Hopper met him later that day to look at places with him. He cosigned on an apartment and helped Steve out with his truck, thrifting necessary furniture and basic cookware. Hopper asked once if Steve wanted the others to know, mentioning they'd want to help. Steve insisted Hopper's help was enough. Beyond enough. Steve had no idea how he could begin to thank him. The apartment rental had required a background check. The background check required Steve's previous name. Hopper saw. He knew and nothing changed.

After Steve was set up with necessities, Hop hugged him, and they never spoke of it again.

...

Steve's job slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy was going fine, but he hadn't really 'bounced back.' His flirting attempts fell flat. He was grateful that his slump hadn't affected his relationships with the kids. At least he still kept in touch with them. He even had a co-worker who, for the first time since Nancy, would make him feel safe. He realized he could be himself with her, without having to guard any part of his identity. Unfortunately, this breakthrough came after more Upside Down fuckery and the Russian military. Literally the Russian military in Hawkins, IN.

Robin Buckley aided their ever-growing trauma-family and was rewarded the same way they all were: psychological and physical injury and eventually a non-disclosure agreement from the government.

She'd revealed her closeted truth to him. They were still loopy, on the public bathroom floor nearest the mall's movie theater, but no longer in an actively drugged state. Whatever 'truth serum,' chemical cocktail the Russian doctors injected them with, in an attempt to get them to reveal that they worked for someone other than Scoops Ahoy, had been yacked out. Robin told him of her frustration at Steve in high school. Girls fawned over him, and she felt she'd never have even one notice her.

Steve was in awe of Robin, supporting him, fighting to keep the kids safe, and now that trust. In return, Steve worked to make her smile, make her laugh. He'd definitely fallen for Robin but even he knew, could feel, that it was a different love than what he'd known for Nancy. Closer to what he felt for the kids.

I know there are supposed to be different types of love. I just dunno what this one is supposed to be called.

A 'mall fire' was the cover story for the Mindflayer's victims, the Russian madness, and, to everyone's horror, Hopper's death. Robin's parents picked her up from the emergency vehicles as did the rest of the kids' families, after being checked out by government agents. Even El bittersweetly had someone to take her home. A contingency plan few had known about made it so Joyce Byers now had custody of 'Jane Hopper.'

Hop was gone and everyone else had homes… families to return to. Steve was almost grateful that the EMTs said he needed to stay a night at the hospital under supervision. They'd determined he'd suffered another concussion. The news was practically a relief. Steve didn't have to haul himself back to his empty, one bedroom apartment yet.

'Hawkins lab' took care of the bill for Steve's treatment. He absently realized if they hadn't been aware of his medical history, they probably were now. Hopefully, there'd be no ramifications from the sketchy government types if he came to deal with them in the future. It seemed likely. The terrors of the Upside Down didn't feel far away. The scale of the Mindflayer gripped Steve's heart with an icy fear for the future villains they might face, seeping up from the 'other Hawkins.' Beings that seemed to be increasing in intelligence and purpose.

When Steve was released from Hawkins Memorial Hospital, he plugged his phone into his car charger. After he'd been cleared to drive, Steve had found the beamer waiting for him in the visitor parking lot. He decided that it was one of those things not worth questioning. Messages flooded in on his device, including repeated missed calls from Robin.

He'd given her a ride or two to work before, so he knew exactly where he needed to go. Steve drove directly to her house and parked on the street. The Buckleys lived in a one story, ranch style home, and Steve silently thanked the powers that be he didn't have to climb to get to Robin's window. It was about ten pm and he really didn't want to bother with the questions her parents might have. He carefully skirted the house before locating her room. The curtains were parted, revealing the warm glow of a lamp on a nightstand, illuminating Robin curled up on the bed inside. She was wrapped around a large plush shark. A laptop was on the bed, a few inches from her, playing what he vaguely recognized as the Trolls movie. Steve tapped on the window as cautiously as he could.

Robin jolted immediately, turning toward the sound. She let out a sort of garbled 'Steve,' and raced over to open the window, pulling him in.

They hugged each other tightly. "Dingus, you didn't answer your phone," she said, sounding choked as her head shook against his shoulder.

"Phone died."

Robin pulled back, her nose crinkled. "Steve, oh my god. They couldn't give you anything else to wear?"

"Didn't want to come over in the hospital gown," he replied, shrugging. He could have gone to his place first, but then again he couldn't've. He needed to see Robin again, know she was alright. The others had been through some degree of it all before (except for Erica, but she had Lucas to help her). The kids had their phones but also the walkies for unmonitored discussion of the events from the past week. He figured Robin would need him about as much as he needed her.

She grabbed the barely charged phone from his limp grip and plugged it into her charger. "Okay. That'll help some. Dustin's freaking out about you. The others too, but y'know."

"I know."

Dustin's sweet 'you die, I die,' declaration from the elevator hadn't left Steve's mind. But Dustin and the others had been updated on Steve's condition before his phone died. Robin seemed to already understand that 'worry' would be everyone's default for a while.

"Here. I've got to have some clothes that'll fit you." Robin turned toward her closet.

He'd already decided. Robin had been completely open with him, Steve felt he owed it to her to do the same. If he was being honest with himself, he craved a friendship where he wouldn't worry that slipping off his shirt would ruin it.

"Robin, wait. I need to tell you something."

She gave him her full attention while joking. "Can't it wait until after we burn that uniform?"

"Uh no. Actually not, uh, not really." Like a bandaid? Steve let out a steadying breath. "Robs, I'm… I'm trans."

He eyebrows shot up and then down. Her jaw dropped. "What? No." She shook her head. "What?"

"Yeah, ha, uh. Surprise? Is that…" He bit his lip, hating the shame and uncertainty beginning to boil in his stomach like a deep indigestion. "Is it um-"

Robin cut him off, arms wrapped around him in another hug. "You're okay," she said. "We're okay."

"Yeah?" He whispered the question, needing to hear the acceptance again but feeling ashamed to be so... needy.

"Yeah," Robin replied in a kind but firm tone. She pulled back slightly. "Though I still… Seriously 'king' Steve is lgb't?'" Questions began to pour out. "That's mind blowing. Who else knows? Oh gosh, who do you want to know? And why did you tell me? I mean I'd never out you… but this is a big deal right? Just, wow."

Steve kissed the top of her head and sort of grimaced. "I know, and you know. It wasn't something I was allowed to talk about and now, I dunno."

She cocked her head to the side and lightly rested her hand against his injured face. "Thanks for letting me in. Steve, really. Is it weird to tell you I think you might be my best friend?"

Steve's heart felt fit to burst. "Really?" His voice dropped to a whisper again.

"Really. You're my schmuck, remember?" She leaned up a little and kissed his less beaten cheek before turning back to her dresser.

Robin pulled out a large shirt that had a faded image of the Great Lakes on it and a pair of sweatpants she assured Steve were giant on her. He nodded and was about to remove his shirt when she suddenly stopped rambling about the clothes. He raised an eyebrow at her.

Robin took in a deep breath and spoke carefully. "Can I see…?" She moved her hand over her chest in a manner that looked almost as if she had failed to properly cross herself.

Steve thought about it. He wasn't ashamed of his chest. In fact, he loved it. The faded jagged scars next to the surgical ones. They were an emancipation, and, he loved the way his torso looked. But…

"No one's really seen it."

Robin's eyes were wide though her brow was pinched. "I'm sorry. Honestly, just curious. I want to hear your whole story. But I'm not gonna demand to know everything. You telling me in the first place is… huge. Just. I wanna be your person. So share whatever you're comfortable with. Know I'm interested and I care." She shrugged.

Steve chuckled. "My platonic person?" Platonic. That's it, the type of love I couldn't name.

She snorted. "Obviously. You forget?" She shoved his shoulder without any real force. "Not into dudes like that."

Steve took off the bloodied Scoops uniform, toed into the sweatpants, and then turned around so Robin could see.

"Wow," she gasped. She reached out but stopped halfway as though mentally schooling herself. "Can I um…"

"Yeah. Sure." He thought he might flinch or suddenly feel dysphoric with her hand on the left scar, but instead he was simply reminded his body was littered with other scars. His new bruises and cuts were sensitive, but they would heal like the others. Like the one Robin curiously starred at now.

Robin was mindful of the fresh damage, lightly tracing over his skin. "Steve… Did the first top surgery, uh, not take?"

He laughed and finished dressing.

They lay in Robin's bed that night. Steve started talking about his top surgery and, before he knew it, spilled his whole life story to her. Robin took it all in stride. It was difficult but liberating. She shared too, thoughts, feelings, reactions. It felt inaugural, like the first sleepover of many with his best friend. His person.

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Lights the Dark

Chapter 32: Free Fall

For the next two weeks, Whitley was strikingly productive in all areas. Working hard to keep up with his new schedule and following orders flawlessly with a pep in his step, his previous gloominess seemingly disappearing overnight. Jacques was quite satisfied with this outcome while the staff and Willow still worried for the young boy’s well-being. Little did they know Whitley had plenty to be happy about, not that he would let any of them know that as he stealthily carried out his plans. The first of which was to gather the resources he’d need for his little “trip”, starting with a phone. With his father busy with prepping for his campaign Whitley was tasked with managing the cleaning out of the old things as Jacques bought new clothes and electronics for his up-and-coming political career. This meant he had to organize the removal of all the family members' old clothing and swiping out older tech for the latest models without losing any data.

Whitley chose to start with the electronic for a medley of reasons. He purchases the technology, supervises their delivery, and handles the data transfers himself. When no one’s looking he copies files that could be or are incriminating to different drives and has Mary hide them in an old dresser in the back of a nearly abandoned storage room, one of their many hiding places for evidence. As he looked through a stack of burner phones, Whitley noticed some were still in their packaging unused.

Whitley: Perfect.

He thought before pocketing a couple of them for himself and disposing of and replacing the rest. With step one out of the way step two begins. What is step two? Money. Getting anywhere in any city always required some money and for what Whitley had planned he’d need a lot of it. Taking advantage of the clean-out Whitley gathers together all the clothes, shoes, and accessories he’s outgrown and calls Julia in for assistance. She comes into his room a bit confused but willing to help in any way she can. Whitley greets her warmly as he finishes separating the clothes into piles.

Whitley: Thank you for coming Julia. I know your section has been busy recently.

Julia: It’s nothing, Young Master. Now, what did you need my help with?

Whitley: It’s a bit of an odd question but I’d like to know what the market value would be for some of my old things.

He says gesturing toward the neatly stacked piles of apparel. Julia steps forward and looks over the items carefully. Being a Mantle-born fashionista, she’d thrifted or bargained for most of the high-quality goods she owned so she knows the discount and resell market like the back of her hand. And from what she could see these piles could easily be gold mines. The clothes were of great quality, from good brands, and very lightly used, they’d turn a quick profit if sold to the right thrift shops or an even bigger profit if sold separately online. As for the bit of jewelry in the mix, last season's cufflinks, watches, and the like could easily be pawned for a hefty price. Yes, this could be a good hall if sold correctly the type that could feed a small family for a month or two if they budget well.

Julia: Yes, yes.

She states nodding as she picks up a shirt and inspects it closely, trying to calculate just how much it could sell for at this very moment.

Julia: Honestly, this shirt alone could sell for at least 10000 lien give or take a few thousand depending on the store. And the jewelry could be up to 50000 a piece if pawn off and maybe double that if put up for auction.

Whitley: I see.

Whitley walks to her side and picks up the piles closest to them, gently placing a few pieces of jewelry on top before revealing the real task he needs her to do.

Whitley: Then would you mind selling these off for me?

Julia: Excuse me?

Whitley: Instead of disposing of these clothes I want you to sell them. Quickly and quietly if possible.

Julia: Ookay? But may I ask why? What would you have to gain from selling some old clothes for what amounts to chump change to someone of your prestige?

Whitley: Oh, it’s not about the money I just wanted to research the topic a little for the sake of the Father’s campaign.

Julia: For Master’s campaign?

Whitley: Yes, with him running for a role that affects not just Atlas but the entire kingdom we'll be in the public eye more than ever, and as you know my father doesn’t have the best reputation with people outside high society.

Julia: Indeed. Though that’s the understatement of the freakin century.

Whitley: So, I’m looking into ways to help him appeal to the working class. But with him buying himself a new campaign wardrobe and this cleanup I realized this all could seem extremely wasteful to the general public and put him at an even greater disadvantage with Mantle voters than he already is. So, I decided to try a few different methods of disposing of old goods firsthand before proposing anything to Father.

Julia: I see, but wouldn’t donating be more-

Whitley: And because of this is out your usual duties I’ll give you 40% of the profit for your assistance.

Julia: Pardon?

Julia’s eyes widen at bit as she pauses her questions at the offer of extra monetary gains. Whitley doesn’t change his expression but gives her a second to calm down from her surprise before he continues.

Whitley: I’ll give you 40% percent of the earnings as a handling fee while I hold on to the rest for future donation if things start looking grim. This way I can create a trail of reselling and have a nice mint to drop on whatever cause is most influential when the time is right. So, will you help me?

Julia: O-of course! It would be my pleasure!

Whitley: Thank you, Julia. Please try to get it done as soon as possible.

Julia: Yes, sir! I’ll get it done before the end of the week!

She says cheerfully while taking the stack and rushing out of the room to go find a good box to store them in. Whitley waves her off before getting back to work and to planning. With step two in motion, step three would be his focus until the funds were secured. Step three was simple, figuring out transportation. Living in a large city, especially the capital of the kingdom, meant that transport was both public and private were commonplace. A ride between cities, either way, was just a phone call and cab fare away, and the vast subway situation was easy to navigate if you had a map and train pass. Whitley only had to do was doing some research between paperwork and indirectly asking Godfrey what station he use to pick Penny up from, disguising the question as gathering information about the transportation system for one of his father’s campaign speeches. Now that he had a route, funds were coming in and he had the means to communicate all Whitley could do now was wait. Wait until he found an opening, a chance to make his move and get to the hard part of his plan.

Meanwhile, Penny was managing her return to normalcy decently well. There had been some fallout coming from the theft situation, lowering trust in officials, more bar brawlers on weekdays and street thugs moving away from the factory routes to around the subway to find easier prey, but she handle it all gracefully. Penny still performed her job with the same efficiency as before and was less tired because of her newly scheduled break times. Ten minutes in the morning, a lunch break after patrol, and ten in the afternoon. The last break happening after her duties of overseeing training sessions or once she’s done checking in on the Maiden with Winter. That part being the newest and only addition to her schedule that she was aware of before it happened. Monday and Friday she would join Winter and help care for Freya, making sure she takes her medication, checking her for bed sores, helping her do light exercises to keep her fit, and overall, just making sure she’s comfortable as she approaches the end of her days. It was a little outside Penny’s field of expertise but being ever the quick learner Penny picks up the care task quickly. The only real drawback was Freya’s attitude, she was often quiet but quick to grumpiness when upset, and when Freya got upset her powers would go haywire. Which was only made worse by the fact she doesn’t particularly like Winter enough to be calmed by her presence. So, it was up to Penny to mitigate these outbursts in the stead of the Winter Maiden’s actual successor.

By the second Friday after her reassignment, Penny had a good understanding of how to handle Freya. After finishing her lunch in the cafeteria, she meets up with Winter in the connecting hallway and heads to the Maiden’s room. Penny avoids looking directly at Winter as her features only reminded her of the person her heart still aches for. Just the thought of him still made her chest burn with a deep pain strong enough to make her sob. But she couldn’t fall into that pit of despair right now, not when there was work to be done.

Since it’s Freya’s lunchtime, Winter, plates her meal while Penny prepares Freya some tea. The elderly woman was always more manageable when she’d had her tea and Penny had figured out just the right way to make hers. The steps change a little with the type she’d have that day, but the jest was she liked the temperature just below boiling due to the cold surrounding her, three teaspoons of sugar put in before the water, so it dissolves quickly, and a few drips honey and lemon to add a soft natural taste. It wasn’t the proper way to make tea but if this simple thing made a dying woman a little cozier then what’s the harm?

Penny walks out first, giving Freya her tea with a sweet smile, the aged Maiden taking the cup silently while looking directly into Penny’s eyes. Penny averts her gaze from her to avoid making awkward eye contact and her sight falls to the same painting that caught her eye last time. Though now something about felt different from her last viewing as she stares at it. The light the girl was holding up seemed so heavy the more she looked at it, the spirals at the edges making it seems like a drain sucking the light into one large mass. And the girl, even though she was just a silhouette seeing her among the vast mountains by herself holding such a heavy light gave Penny an odd sense of loneliness.

Penny: She looks so young and small. I wonder why she’s out there on her own, holding something so heavy.

She muses to herself, not noticing Freya’s gaze on her. But her thoughts are soon halted by Winter approaching with Freya’s lunch. Quickly breaking out of her daze, Penny helps set the track table and clean up the dish when Freya has her fill of it. It’s not long until she’s done for the day and on her way to make her daily reports before going home.

At around that same time, Whitley’s plan was coming together nicely. Julia had come through with thrifting and sold the first stack for a nice profit, the phone was set up to a billing account he had access to as part of taking on some of the household duties and his route to get to Mantle by taxis then by train was set now that he had cash in hand to pay for the fares. And lastly but most importantly his father was leaving for the weekend for a stay at a colleague’s hotel to talk over possible campaign donations and policies with a few titans of the labor industry. As Jacques was headed out the door, he reiterated his expectations for the weekend to Whitley.

Jacques: The paperwork should be done no later than tomorrow night, and I expect this house to be clean and tidy when I return. This that clear?

Whitley: Of course, Father. Leave everything to me.

Jacques nods at his obedience before turning around and heading out the door toward the waiting limousine. Whitley waves him off and watches him leave from the doorway, a fake smile plastered on so metal it be impossible to tell that it was purely for show.

Whitley: He’s getting in, sitting down, he’s barking orders at the driver again, aaaaaaand-

Soon the limousine shifted into gear and drives off the property, Whitley waits until the vehicle is completely out of sight to grab the front door handles then slams them shut. He turns to face the near staff members he can find and with a calm smile as he issues a simple order.

Whitley: Tell the cooks not to bother with making my dinner tonight, I’d like to go to bed early.

Those who heard him nod in compliance, one goes off to relay the message to the kitchen as Whitley walks back to his room. Once alone he’s quick to finish his work at lightning speed, it wasn’t anything difficult, so it wasn’t too hard to get through it fast without making any mistakes. He double-checks his work before getting up from his desk and walking to his wardrobe. He retrieves the money and phone from their hiding spots at the bottom and then changes into the outfit he’s chosen for his little outing. A long black coat with no branding on it, a plain white dress shirt, black pants, navy socks, a pair of dark gray winter boots, and gloves. This was the most casual set of clothing he owns; they were also some of the most well-lined and warm. Even though both cities had city-wide heating systems Mantle’s was far weaker from the higher weather damage and Grimm wear and tear. And judging from the weather report this week had been a little colder than usual. Knowing this Whitley also grabs a winter cap and scarf for extra warmth and wind protection as well as a face mask he’d swiped from a supply closet to hide his face. He couldn’t risk being recognized by anyone while he was out, less his father hears of it.

He up a pillow dummy in his bed and takes the pocket watch out from its hiding spot, kissing it for luck before sliding into his pocket. Whitley waits by the door for a bit until he knows the night rotation has shifted out of the way then makes his exit. Being stuck in the manor for most of his life had given Whitley one advantage in this endeavor, he knew this house like the back of his hand. When things had gotten rough between Weiss and Jacques and the during the fallout of her going to Beacon Klein had made sure Whitley knew every secret passage and hidden room in the manor in case of an emergency. Sometimes, during Jacques’s more destructive tantrums, Whitley would warn the staff to take cover and then hide himself in a crawl space until the situation had calmed down enough for him to interfere. It was all he could do to prevent further harm during those rampages. But now the knowledge would serve a different purpose, as a means to escape.

Quietly dashing through the halls, Whitley sneaks into the east wing and opens the secret passage behind a faux bookcase. Making his way through the tunnels and outside, he takes a moment to breathe the cold night air and shake off the dust from the unused space before making a b-line for the driveway. With the road ahead of him clear Whitley takes a look back at the manor, fear, and hesitance creeping, but he pulls his gaze back quickly. Turning his head down and shutting his eyes tightly, as the reality of what he’s doing sets in.

Whitley: I shouldn’t be out here. If I get caught there’s no telling what he’ll do! This could end bad, really bad. Can I really risk everything I’ve worked so hard for over-

As he starts to second-guess his decision an image of Penny passes through his mind, and he pauses. He takes a deep breath and exhales with a sign before opening his eyes, a look of determination glimmering in the blue of his irises.

Whitley: Yes, I can. She’s worth it. And I know I won’t feel whole again until I see her again.

He thinks steeling his resolve as he marches down the driveway and onto the open road. He walks until he’s a good distance from the manor and pulls out the spare scroll to call a taxi. He waits by the road until he sees the light from the sign atop the cab approaching and waves the driver down with the flash from the scroll. He gets in, keeping his head down he doesn’t say a word to the driver and shows him the directions to the station with the scroll. The driver groans at his impersonal style of communication but pulls off towards the station, nonetheless. The drive feels extremely long, the sounds of top-ten music blaring from the cab’s radio barely registering to Whitley as he tries to stay calm and focused. Once they arrive at the train station rain begins to fall. Whitley pays the fee before getting out and walking into the station. It was quite busy being the night before the weekend, young people were coming up to splurge their cash at Atlas bars and nightclubs, and working-class people of ages were heading home to rest after a hard week of work. The place reeked of dust, sweat, bodily odor, and cleaning solution, thankfully Whitley’s mask provided enough filtration for to breath it in without gagging as he walks to a counter to buy a train pass. Around this time Whitley considers calling his contact in Mantle before getting on the train but quickly dismisses the thought. Knowing how he’d react if he called now, he’d do everything in his power to convince Whitley to go home before anything could happen to him, but he’d come too far to turn back!

Whitley: Better to ask forgiveness than permission in this case.

He thought as the teller at the counter hands him his pass. Whitley nods in thanks as he takes his pass and heads to the platform his train would be arriving at. The wait for the train his more nerve-wracking than the drive as the hustle and bustle of the people around giveWhitley some sensory overload. But still he just keeps breathing. He wasn't going to be shaken, he was a man on a mission and he damn well would see it through to the end! He takes out the pocket watch to check the time, the shine of his beloved trinket easing his anxiety ever so slightly.

Whitley: It shouldn’t be long if the schedule’s right.

He thought before closing the watch back, rubbing his finger over the snow lily imprint on its front before putting it away. As if on cue the train to Mantle finally pulls into the station, and as the doors open to let the passengers out Whitley files into the crowd of people entering the nearest train car. He stands instead of taking a seat, holding onto a standing pole to secure himself as the conductor announces their destination before closing the doors and pulling the train out of the station. Whitley gets lost in the sounds of chattering people and the feeling of weightlessness as the train begins to make its descent into the lower city.

Back at the manor Mary has grown anxious after thinking over Whitley’s recent behavior. She knew he’d fall into a depression after losing Penny, it was obvious that her departure would devastate him, especially with how Jacques went about it. No, what worried Mary was just how fast Whitley had rebounded from that depression. The light in his eyes had deemed so quickly but returned just as fast and burned even brighter than before. He seemed more driven, so full of purpose but with the position, they were in it made no sense. Sure, the cleanup had provided them an opportunity to look through some of Jacques’s more sensitive documents and make backups to add to their evidence log but the path to the goalpost was still far ahead. Jacques was seeking political power now and depending on his success, it could be a good thing or bad thing for them in the long term. Whitley still had a couple of years until legal adulthood and with no trusted adults capable of combating Jacques on their side Whitley was still stuck in his position. Until he comes of age, he wouldn’t be able to make a claim on the SDC without a proxy.

Mary: So, what’s gotten him so riled up?

Mary thought as she turns a corner, marching down the hallway to Whitley’s room. She knows he should be asleep by now and if she was quiet, she could check to see what’s been going through his head with her semblance without him knowing. Unlocking the door with her master key, Mary can feel something was off immediately. She doesn’t bother looking around, walking straight to his bed, and the moment her hand touches the mass through the blankets she knows he’s slipped out of the manor somehow.

Mary: God damnit.

Mary swears under her breath, she sits down on the bed and holds her head in frustration. What was he thinking? Why would he pull a stunt like this when he knows what could happen if he’s caught?

Mary: The hell was he thinking? What could’ve possibly driven him to-Oh shit, don’t tell me-

Thinking about everything that’s happened Mary realizes there’s only one reason Whitley would have does this for. She covers her face with both hands as anger and annoyance begin to cloud her vision.

Mary: Ugh, Unbelievable! This is a straight off tragic romance novel!

She grumbles, her foot tapping anxiously as she tries to think of what to do. She pulls out her scroll and calls his scroll but hears it ringing in the room, spotting it on his desk. Getting up and grabbing the scroll Mary is growing angrier by the second. She takes a second to breath and collect herself while she tries to concoct a plan of action. The answer comes to her as she recalls her dealings as a youth, she’d written plenty of teenage romantic fluff off the memories of her peers and she knew well how stories like these played out. Looking down at Whitley’s scroll Mary wonders if he’d ever deleted Penny’s contacts.

Mary: If he’s going act like a tragic male lead then let’s see how his leading lady feels about his dramatic escape.

She says sarcastically, seating down while she attempts to lock his scroll.

Down in the lower city Whitley’s train finally reaches its stop, the train car jerks to a stop as the conductor announces the station and opens the door. Whitley’s swept up with crowd as he gets off, moving with the sea of people until he manages to break away by the gates. Stepping to the side he takes out his scroll and daily the number of the only people he trusted to help him find his way through the city.

In the upstairs apartment of the Little Cave Antiques Klein’s getting ready for bed. He’s putting on his pajamas when his scroll starts to ring. He picks it up off the nightstand and looks at the caller ID and though he doesn’t recognize the number Klein still answers the call like the gentleman he is.

Klein: Good evening, this is Klein Sieben. How may I help you?

Whitley: It’s me, Klein.

Klein’s eyes go wide and turn a bright shade of yellow at the sound of his former young master on the line. He taps his feet, and his voice is full of joy as he replies to the young men’s statement.

Klein: Young Master? Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! To what do I know the pleasure of this evening call!

Whitley: I need your help, I’m in Mantle.

Klein: Excuse me?

Whitley: I’m in Mantle, Klein. I snuck out, took the train from Atlas and now I’m waiting by the gate at the station.

Klein: You did, what?!

Klein is completely dumbfounded, taking almost half a minute to fully comprehend what he just heard. When the words finally click in his head, Klein lets out a shriek as his eyes cycle through several colors as he flips out! Whitley turns down the volume on his scroll to save his hearing and lets Klein have his moment of shock uninterrupted. When the older man finally calms down his eyes turn bright red, and his voice lowers to a grumble as he scolds the boy for his irresponsible actions.

Klein: WHAT IN THE WORLD DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING! SNEAKING OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, AND TO MANTLE OF ALL PLACES! WHAT IN GOD’S NAME POSSESSED YOU TO THINK THIS WAS ANY KIND OF GOOD IDEA! MUCH LESS GO THROUGH WITH IT?!

Whitley: I’m sorry Klein but I was desperate. There’s someone down here I need to see, and I need your help to find them.

Klein sighs, he was used to Weiss’s strong emotional outbursts but this was completely out of pocket for Whitley.

Klein: Couldn’t you have found a better way than doing something this risky?! If your father hears of this there’s no telling what he’ll do to you!

Whitley: I know but I couldn’t wait anymore.

Klein: You couldn’t wait? You couldn’t wait so you snuck away from home to another city at this late hour?! What could possibly be so important that you’d risk his wrath for this?!

Whitley: Because-Because I couldn’t take it anymore more!

Whitley’s voice strains causing Klein’s eyes flash back to brown and his anger to disallow. Whitley grits his teeth, his voice was so weak and hurt, like a tiny, injured animal as he explains himself.

Whitley: I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep that man’s fury at bay. I’ve watched him drive my mother into endless alcohol binge and run my sisters off in his vain attempts to control everything. But for once..for once in my life, I had someone who made me feel happy! I had someone whose smile gave me the strength to actually try to live, to just be okay with…being me. And he tossed her out as soon as he saw that I wasn’t miserable!

Klein: Whitley.

Whitley: I..love her, Klein. I love her so much it feels like I’m rotting without her. My heart’s ached every single day since she left, and it gets worse and worse with every day she’s not here. I dream about her, I think about her every day, and the fact I couldn’t be with her hurt so much it feels like my chest going to cave in! So, when I saw an opportunity to go find her, I couldn’t resist.

He admits, fist clenched tightly against his chest as he holds back tears. Despite his venture being carefully planned and researched Whitley had honestly acted on impulse from the moment he knew his father would be out of the manor long enough for him to make a run for it. Even in his moments of doubt his desire to see Penny outweighed all relational thought. And Klein could hear it, the yarning and years of raw pain spilling out of the child he’d watched over for so many years. He knew just how lonely and broken Whitley had become but was powerless to do anything for the boy. No one and nothing could ever truly better the dreadful condition Whitley lived in, until now. With a heavy sigh, Klein takes off his nightcap and goes out to the living room to grab his coat, hat, and shoes.

Klein: Which station are you in right now?

Whitley: Sovereign Central.

Klein: Alright. Stay put, I’ll come pick you up.

Whitley: Thank you, Klein.

Klein can hear Whitley’s smile through the phone as he tucks his umbrella under his arm and opens the apartment's front door.

Klein: You're welcome, Whitley. Now please just stay safe until I get there.

He asks before hanging up and heading out into the pouring rain, trudging through the storm to go find his young master.

Later at the Polendina residence, Penny was lounging on the couch while her dad made dinner. She’s watching tv, gloves off and kicking her feet the bunny’s ears on her house shoes flopping with every motion when suddenly her scroll rings. She’s shocked to see that Whitley’s calling her! Confused but delighted and terrifyingly nervous Penny fumbles to grab her scroll and once she’s got a firm grip on it, she takes a big deep breath before answering. After the disaster that was the last time they met, Penny has no idea what to say so she just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

Penny: H-hello?

Mary: Ms. Polendina.

With that one utterance, all of Penny’s hope instantly evaporates and is replaced with annoyance.

Penny: Mary.

She states rather coldly. Penny didn’t how to feel about the woman since they spoke in the library. Despite Mary making her intentions clear Penny couldn’t find it in herself to trust her as she was the first to acknowledge that her and Whitley’s love was doomed to fail. And the fact that her prediction turned out to be correct only made Penny feel more conflicted. Hearing her talk again filled Penny with a deep rage even though she had nothing to do with what happened. Still, Penny couldn’t help the irrational anger Mary’s voice induced, but she tries to suck it up as she probes for the reason behind her call.

Penny: Mary, why are you calling me and why are you doing so from Whitley’s scroll?

Mary: Because he left it here after he decided to so daringly ran off to Mantle to find you!

Mary states equally as annoyed as Penny. It had taken her far too long to unlock Whitley’s scroll as he had changed the password and added security blocks that triggered every few failures. After nearly two hours of trying, she’d finally opened the damned thing only to not find any clues to where he could possibly be and have her call for help be met with hostility. Though Penny’s animosity died off as soon as Mary told her what Whitley’s done as her mind clouds with confusion and worry.

Penny: He did what?

She asks in disbelief, not wanting to think that Whitley would actually sneak off to an unfamiliar place like that, especially at night when the city was at its most dangerous!

Mary: He snuck out of the manor and is probably somewhere in Mantle looking for you!

Penny: Ar-are you sure?

Mary: Yes! There’s no other reason he would do something this stupid unless it was for you! Now, I need you to find him before anyone else notices he’s gone.

Penny: I-Okay! But where would I even start to look?! Do you have any idea where he could be in the city?!

Mary: No, but Whitley’s an intelligent child so if he left behind anything that could track him then he’s probably went incognito. My best guess is public transport, or he found someone to pick him-Oh God, dammit all!

Mary clutches her head as she recalls a possible point of contact Whitley had in the ground city. Her sudden cursing confuses Penny, and she asks anxiously asks for clarification.

Penny: What? What happened?

Mary: It’s nothing, just go check the train stations first and I’ll call back if I find anything else.

Penny: Okay! I-I’ll try the one closest to me first! Bye!

She hangs up and pockets her scroll then rushes towards the front door. Pietro calls out to her, but Penny doesn’t hear him as she dashes out of the door and into the pouring rain. She runs towards the station; her slippers get drenched by the rainwater on the street, but Penny doesn’t care about the coldness of her feet, the dirtying of her shoes or rain soaking her clothes. Right now, her only focus is finding Whitley and making sure nothing bad happens to him. She’s going full throttle when she stops at the crosswalk for a red light, while she’s waiting for it to go green Penny watches a short man heading in the same direction slip and fall on the next street. He tries to pick himself up but slips again on the pavement. Knowing time is of the essence but being unable to turn her back on a person in need, when the light turns green Penny runs up to the man, pucks in his fallen umbrella and helps him to his feet only to find she recognizes him.

Penny: You’re the man from the antique store, Klein.

She says while handing the umbrella back to him. Said man looks at her a bit bewildered by her appearing in from him and his odd luck in this tricky situation.

Klein: Little Miss? Oh, thank goodness I ran into you! I’m in desperate need of your help right now.

Penny: What happened?

Klein: Young Master Whitley snuck out and is waiting for me at the Sovereign Central train station!

Penny: Sovereign Central-Wait Young Master! Why did you- how do you-

Klein: Because I am a former butler of the Schnee family.

Penny:…What? You used to work at the manor?

Klein: Yes. Young Master told me of you long before you came into my shop. I didn’t know it was you at first but when you deserved the boy you fancied, I know you and the girl he’d grown close with were one and the same.

Penny: But why didn’t you tell me?

Klein: It wasn’t my place to tell you. Young Master should have-Never mind that now! What matters is that Whitley is waiting at the station and came here to look for you!

Penny is gobsmacked by this information, she was too wound up with worry when Mary told her to fully process the fact Whitley really had made such a dangerous decision just to come see her. It had been less than a month since they last saw each other so it was oddly flattering but also extremely concerning that he’d go this far for her, she’d blush if it weren’t so distressing.

Klein: We need to go to him right away before some ruffians do!

Penny nods and the two start back on their rush to the station but Klein barely takes two steps forward before falling over again. Penny turns back and while helping him up she notices a rip in his pajama pants and a fresh wound on his shin.

Penny: You’re hurt!

She cries but Klein waves her off as he forces himself back onto his feet.

Klein: It’s nothing, just let me-OW!

His sentence is cut off with a yelp as Klein tries and fails to put pressure on his injured leg, forcing him onto his knees. Being no stranger to injured people Penny picks him up off the wet pavement and into a fireman’s carry, throwing his umbrella over her shoulder with him.

Klein: Wait, what are-

Penny: You’re in no condition to be out or running in this weather. I’m taking you somewhere safe to rest.

Klein: But what about Whitley?

Penny: I’ll find him after I drop you off.

Klein: But-Whoa!

Penny doesn’t give him a chance to protest and takes off running back the way she came. Once she’s back at her house Penny comes through the door and sees her dad on the phone trying to reach her only to turn around and see her carrying a man over her shoulder and drenched head to toe in rainwater. He strides over to her, face full of trepidation as he confronts her sudden actions.

Pietro: Where have you been?! I’ve been calling and calling but you won't answer?!

Penny: I’m sorry Dad, I was in a hurry and didn’t hear my scroll!

Pietro: What the-what do you mean a hurry?! You ran out of the house out of nowhere and now you come back with a man over your shoulder and all you can say is you’re in a hurry?!

Penny: I’m sorry but it was an emergency! An ongoing emergency that I need to get back to right now!

She explains while setting Klein down on the couch, the shift in position allows Pietro to see that the smaller man’s wounds.

Pietro: Is that blood- Alright what the hell is going on?! What happened to him and where-Is this the man from the antiques store?!

He asks pointing down at the wounded man, completely confused by the situation unfolding around him. Klein tips his hat in greeting before trying to better explain their current predicament.

Klein: Evening, Sir, and apologies for the sudden intrusion. Your daughter and I seem to have stumbled into quite the dilemma involving an unfortunate young man and she insisted I not go any further on an injured leg.

Pietro nods, not filling understanding what he meant but getting enough of it to know why he was currently on his couch.

Pietro: Okay but that doesn’t explain why-

His sentence is cut off by the front door slamming shut, both men look up only to see that Penny’s run off again. Pietro stares at the door stunned and confused by his dear daughter’s actions and still out of the loop of this absurd crisis he’s found himself in.

Pietro: Good God, what is happening tonight?!

He groans, rubbing his temples as a stress fueled headache coming in. His confusion is interrupted by Klein holding a hand up and waving it to get his attention.

Klein: Excuse me, but if you could be so kind as to procure me a first aid kit, I think I can clear things up for you.

Klein offers, Pietro signs and turns his chair around to go find the emergency medical kit. Whatever was going on it was bad enough that Penny was acting rashly and not thinking clearly enough to even clarify what she was doing. And that worried her dad at no end but with his physical limitations, there was no way he could stop her. All he could do was try to piece the situation together and call for help if things got out of hand. While Pietro looks through the cabinets Klein pulls out his scroll to call Whitley and update him on what’s happened only to discover his scroll practically in pieces, shattered by the fall.

Meanwhile, Whitley is still at the station waiting for Klein to arrive. He tries calling him but never gets through to the line. After multiple failed attempts to get in contact with him, Whitley puts his scroll away and contemplates what to do next. Suddenly he feels a twinge of pain in his stomach and it lowly growls in hungry. He chose not to eat earlier to keep the staff away from his room for his escape and now he was paying the consequences for that choice.

Whitley: Ugh, I should’ve grabbed something from the kitchen when I had the chance.

He laments, holding a hand to his stomach as it continues growling from its emptiness. With no way of knowing when his old friend would arrive and feeling a little fatigued from the stress and waiting Whitley decides to go grab a quick bite to eat before it gets too late.

Whitley: There should be a few places nearby that are still open at this hour.

He muses, before walking to the gate and out onto the street. Rain pouring overhead as he marches along down the street scanning the area for a restaurant, food stall, or even a convenience store to stop at. As he’s passing by an alleyway a large arm comes out from the darkness and grabs him by the shoulder, quickly pulling him into the ally way from the main street. Within a matter of seconds, Whitley’s pinned to a walk and surrounded by five thugs, a large dusty red-haired man holding him in place. The man looked like a hooligan, he was tall, balky, and has definitely seen a lot of fights, his tan face was covered in scars most of which looked like crawl marks. But those were just small pickings compared to red fox tail clipped to his leather jacket. Why you may ask? Because firstly Whitley could tell it was real fur not synthetic, secondly there were no red foxes in the frozen kingdom to hunt and lastly, it was too big to be from any sort of wild fox. With a twisted glint in his dark gray eyes and a cruel grin painted on his face, he looked at Whitley dead on as he tries to intimidate him.

???: ‘Ello there, little man.

He greets him mockingly, Whitley doesn’t talk back, nor does he break eye contact, maintaining a neutral expression as best he can while he tries to think of a way out of this mess. He’d been a victim of physical violence before, and he knew one wrong move could be the difference between grave injury and death. He didn’t know how this thug might act if he screamed or said the wrong thing so for now silence was the safest option. The thug is baffled by the lack of fear in Whitley’s eyes but kept on grinning. It was always easy to ring cash out of people when they were scared for their life but breaking down a little snot’s bravado then robbing him was much more satisfying. And so, this game intimidation continues.

Jack: Me name’s Jack, Honest Jack. Lovely night for a stroll through the city ain’t it?

Whitley says nothing, he just stares at Jack and listens hoping for an opening to flee.

Jack: I don’t think I’ve seen you ‘round here before and you look a little too fancy to from these parts neither. So what are you doing on our turf?

He asks playfully but forcibly, Whitley still doesn’t respond half out of stubbornness and half out of fear. Jack doesn’t take too kindly to his idleness this time and grips the boy’s shoulder tighter, a sickly acid aura bubbles from his hand and onto Whitley’s shoulder. It crawls across his skin to this his throat resting in his larynx and voice box like a thick mucus. Jack smiles darkly and resumes his questioning.

Jack: Alright, let me ask you again. What are you doing here?

Whitley tries to stay quiet but the bubble of mucus starts to raise, pulling his voice out of his mouth violently.

Whitley: I..Came..Here…To..Met…Some..One!

Each word comes out choked, carried up by the bubbles, and pops in the air. It hurt so much, that sentence alone made Whitley’s throat feel raw and dry. Jack marveled at the boy’s disposition, most would cry or puke halfway a few words through due to the effects of his semblance but this kid, he had one helluva pain tolerance. Wanting to see how far that tolerance went Jack keeps pressing Whitley with more questions.

Jack: Is that right? So you must’ve come from the upper city then, huh?

Whitley: Yes..I…Am!

Jack: Woah, a rich kid! Guess we’re eating good tonight boys!

He says to other thugs who cheer excitedly, delighted to have caught such bountiful prey.

Jack: That is if he’s got money on ‘em. You do have money on you, don’t cha boy?

Whitley tries again to keep quiet but bubbles dragging his voice are too strong to stop.

Whitley: Yes…I…Do!

The hoodlums murmur in joy, knowing they’d luck out with a wealthy mark. But the merriment pauses as Whitley continues to talk.

Whitely: But..I..Have..No..Inten..Tion..Of…Giv..ing..Any…Of..It...To..You!

The thugs look at him baffled by his sharp attitude, Jack especially so. This was one of the problems with his semblance, it forced honesty from people but couldn’t sugarcoat what came out. Those who weren’t stricken with fear could get a little cocky with him but he could always hear a little terror underneath it. But this one, this one had way too much moxie for the situation he was in. So Jack pressed him again, forcing more of the acid-like bubbles into the boy’s aura.

Jack: What did you say to me?

Whitley: I..Said..I’m..Not..Giv.Ing...You..Any…Thing!

Jack: Is that so? Well, aren’t you a cheeky little bastard? You think you're in any state to be acting all tough like that, huh?!

This toxic back and forth soon devolves into an argument with Whitley being unable to hold his tongue. As the two kept squabbling the commotion gets loud enough to hear from the edge of the alley. It’s this noise draws Penny’s attention as she finally closes in on the station.

She’s rushing down the street to her destination, Sovereign Central was literally within sight, but the sounds of fighting coming from a nearby ally cause Penny’s protector instincts to kick in again. She turns on her night vision and slowly down as she passed by the alley, but times seems to freeze when looks into the darning and sees a group of thugs harassing a young man. The glow in her eyes turns harsh and poisonous when she locks in on the young man’s features, specifically his snow-white hair and blue eyes. Not even thinking Penny turns on her heels and launches herself directly at Jack just as he raised his fist to punch Whitley.

The lead gangster doesn’t have time to process what’s happening as one moment he’s about to pummel a snot-nosed brat then the next he’s been pushed away with enough force to knock them a few feet away. He lands on his back, and the pain from the impact knocks him out before he can face his attacker. Seeing their boss laid out on the cold wet pavement the four remaining hooligans charge at Penny, aiming to get revenge for their fallen leader. Unfortunately for them, it’s a pointless fight. The one closest tries to lunge at Penny, she grabs his arm and pulls his stomach into her fist hard. He retches as the wind is knocked out of him out and falls to the ground. The next three go down just as easy with the second thug falling after two punches to the gut and a kick to the stomach. The third comes in right behind him and gets a kick to the face and a knee to the side, throwing him to the wall as he passes out. And the last tries to get the jump on her by rushing her from behind but he’s nowhere near fast enough or skilled enough to outmatch Penny. His attempted punch doesn’t even get to contact before she turns head and grabs his arm. Her face was cold and neutral but her glowing eyes radiated rage as she throws the large man over her shoulder then onto the pavement. In what felt like hours but was only a couple of minutes all five crooks were laid out on the alley floor, rain drenching their unconscious bodies. Throughout all this Whitley had stood frozen in the same spot he was pinned in, rubbing his sore throat and watching Penny in silent awe as she beat the daylights out of those men.

When the fight is finally over Whitley reaches out to touch her but is soon pinned to the wall again, this time by Penny! With her hands on the wall and her body less than an inch away Penny had him completely locked in place. Her expression was unreadable, and her eyes were still aglow as the gazed into Whitley’s. They stand in silence for a few seconds as the adrenaline from the altercation wears off. Whitley opens his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say in this position, but Penny bests him to the punch.

Penny: Whitley...What the…

She tries to stay calm but soon all the worry and fear she did been holding in since Mary called her. The glow in her eyes fades and her lips begin to quiver as she tries not to lose her cool.

Penny: What…the FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

But she fails, the combination of heavy emotions throwing her mind into disarray. She couldn’t hold back the anxiety, frustration, and dread she’d been holding back since she last seen him. Knowing he was in the city alone so late at night was bad enough, but to find him getting mugged too? That was Penny’s limit, she couldn’t think straight after seeing him in danger like that.

Penny: WHY THE HELL DID YOU THINK THIS WAS OKAY TO DO?! WHAT PART OF COMING TO MANTLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT SEEMED OKAY TO YOU?! AND ALL ON YOUR OWN TOO?! DO YOU KNOW HOW SCARED I WAS WHEN I HEARD YOU RAN AWAY?! HOW COULD YOU WORRY PEOPLE LIKE THAT?! HOW-

She pauses her screaming rant as tears blur her vision and trickle down her cheeks, blending in with the rain pouring over them.

Penny: How could you do that to me?

She whimpers out, her face full of sorrow as she has a total meltdown from the emotional roller coaster this night had taken her on. Whitley looks at her concerned; he attempts to speak again but gets choked up as his own emotional wall comes crashing down. Three weeks, for three weeks he’d been without the person who’d given him more joy than he’d ever known before, and the first thing she does is save him from harm.

Whitley: How did I get so lucky to meet someone so extraordinary?

He thought before wrapping his arms around her and pulling Penny into a tight embrace! He holds her as close as possible and nuzzles into her neck, breathing in her scent as much as he can. He couldn’t help the tears of joy that fall as after almost a month he finally, finally felt whole again! He didn’t mind her soaking wet hair or clothes, or the cold rain drenching both of them, or the fact their reunion had taken place in a dingy alley of all places. No, none of that mattered as long as she was in his arms again.

Whitley: Sorry that I worried you, I just wanted…No, I..needed to see you again.

He says softly, voice sweeter than Penny had ever heard him talk before. Her anxiety born breakdown turns to a moment of comfort as she wraps her arms around him. Melting into the embrace, Penny lets out all the negative emotions she’d stored up and takes in all the love Whitley was pouring out. God, she missed him, she missed his voice she missed his scent, his touch, she missed everything about him so damn much. She’d been so sure she’d messed up her chance to be with him and love him, but this night had proven her wrong, so very wrong. As they continue holding each other Whitley puts his forehead to Penny’s, glancing deeply into her with all the love his battered heart could muster.

Whitley: I missed you so much, Penny. Please..never leave me again.

He pleads, Penny opens her mouth to reply but Whitley doesn’t give her a chance. Taking a hand off her Whitley pulls down his mask and closes the distance between them, kissing her right on the lips. Penny is stunned by the sudden kiss, her teary eyes wide in shock from sudden contact. But with a second her shock fades into joy edge melts into it quickly, closing her eyes and completely relaxing in his embrace. Despite the cold rain, Penny felt so warm, so safe, and happy. Her head felt fuzzy in a way she’d never felt before but instantly loved.

Love, real romantic love. That was something Penny could only have dreamed of not so long ago. Everything she’d been through in the last few months had seemed so impossible but strangely wonderful in ways she couldn’t have ever predicted. But now she had someone she was willing to fight any evil for without hesitation and who’d throw himself into a dangerous situation just to be with her. It was almost like a dream, one neither ever wanted to wake up from.

The moment ends when Penny’s scroll rings, breaking the warm atmosphere the young lovers had built on their reunion. Penny pulls it out and sees it’s her dad. The reality that Whitley had technically run away from home and that there were five unconscious criminals at their feet soon dawns on both and they decide to clean up the mess. Penny and Whitley assure the older men wanting a home that they’re fine and will be there shortly then Penny calls for backup to come get the thugs. It takes almost an hour to resolve things but once the police arrive, they arrest the thugs on outstanding warrants before Penny can even explain what she caught them for. The most they ask her is if she caught them trying to hassle someone again and Penny says yes. That’s enough cause to get them dragged away and give Penny and Whitley a chance to head back to her home. As they begin the long walk back Whitley takes off his coat and offers it to Penny. Penny smiled and wrapped the coat around both their shoulders.

Penny: Now, we’ll both be warm.

She says with her usual cheerful smile. Whitley smiles back at her and they walk shoulder-to-shoulder and hold hands all the way to her house, fingers intertwined as if they couldn’t be close enough. When they arrive at the house and open the front door they are greeted by the sight of Klein, bandage up and helping Pietro in the kitchen. Klein hears the door open and power walks over to welcome them back, throwing an arm around Whitley as he tries to hold back tears.

Klein: Thank the stars, you’re finally here! I was so worried you might’ve been hurt or mugged or-Gods I don’t even want to think about I’m just glad you’re alright!

Klein cries as he hugs his mischievous young master, who pats his back reassuringly.

Whitley: Sorry for worrying you. I-What happened to your leg?

He questions, pointing out the banged wound on the elder butler’s leg. Klein laughs off his concerns and regales the circumstances of this little misfortune.

Klein: Oh, this is nothing just a little scratch. One I got rushing to find you.

Whitley looks down in shame. He had never meant to cause anyone any harm in his endeavor, especially not the man who’d treated him kinder than his own father had. Klein once again waves this off and proceeds with his story.

Klein: But thankfully I had the luck of running onto the sweet young lady you came here to see.

He states pointing at Penny, who smiles at the acknowledgment, before getting back to his tale.

Klein: She helped me, carried me here for treatment, and continued the search in my stead. To great success, it would seem!

He jocks before laughing at the absurdity of events that had unfolded over the course of this memorable night. Whitley also laughs, both in absurdity and happiness at how the two nicest people he knew had met in such a preposterous way!

Whitley: Unbelievable! I was hoping to introduce you to her later, but it looks like fate beat me to it.

He jocks back, a bright smile on his face as he marvels at his good fortune. Seeing a chance to cut into the conversation, Penny tugs at Whitley’s hand forcing his gaze onto her and Klein’s follows suit.

Penny: Actually, I haven’t told him my name yet, so we haven’t technically formally met yet.

She quips, Whitley and Klein immediately realize she’s just creating an excuse to do the introduction and play along.

Whitley: Is that so? Well, why don’t we rectify that right now? Penny, this is Klein. He was my family’s butler for years and practically raised me.

Whitley states while gesturing to Klein who tips his hat in greeting to Penny.

Klein: Pleased to meet you.

The short says cheerfully to the sweet redhead who waves to him in response, this promotes Whitley to let go of her hand and place it around her shoulder as he introduces the lovely girl to his old companion.

Whitley: Klein, this beautiful girl here is…my love Penny.

He pauses and pulls her closers before bestowing the title of his love. It’s simple but perfect as it describes just what he felt for her, she had shown him love and made him love deeper than he could ever imagine. Penny blushes when he utters those words, though she had a few titles, soldier, daughter, protector, and so on but she’d never been given a romantic one before. It made her head feel fuzzy again and reminded her of their moment in the alley. Her face glows brighter from the memory and she covers her face in embarrassment, barely able to vocalize her signature greeting.

Penny: S-S-Salutations.

She stutters out causing both men to chuckle.

Klein: Well now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way, why don’t you two go clean up before dinner?

Penny and Whitley look down and remember they’re absolutely soaked from the rain and definitely need to dry off or change. Whitley hangs his coat by the door and Klein helps him dry his clothes with a blow dryer while Penny goes to her room to change into dry off and change clothes. After getting her hair dry and wiping off Penny looked at her closet stumped. She honestly doesn’t know what to where in this situation like this, what with the person she loved and recently shared her first kiss with staying for dinner. Scanning through her clothes, she can’t find anything that feels casual enough to wear for only a few hours at most before changing to go to bed, so she ops to wear her pajamas and put the pink cardigan she’d received so long ago on over to cover up her shoulders and back. Once she’s ready Penny head back downstairs and sees that Whitley, sans winter hat and mask, had pulled up chairs at the dining table for him and Klein while Klein helps her dad plate the food. She rushes over to help, grabbing the utensils to set the table, and soon dinner is served.

It's a classic for rainy nights in Mantle, a hearty beef stew with a side of mashed potatoes and dinner rolls. Penny was delighted by the spread, but Whitley seemed a little cautious, not because of the meal's content but the presentation. Unlike his usual meals, this food wasn’t present in the prettiest way, the scent off was much stronger, and the serving size itself was far bigger than he’d gotten in years. It was actually a bit intimidating, being offered some much at someone else’s home. Could he really eat this? Even though he was starving from the journey here Whitley couldn’t help the unease he felt as he looked at his bowl. But his thoughts are interpreted by Pietro setting the pot of leftover stew in the center of the table.

Pietro: Go ahead and dig in everybody! It’s been a long night and we got plenty to go around!

Pietro cheers before grabbing his own bowl and chowing down. Penny and Klein also start eating eagerly, this encourages Whitley to have a taste for himself. He takes a spoon full of stew and sips just a little before immediately shoving the whole spoon into his mouth. It was rich and warm, the beef, though tougher than he was used to, paired perfectly with the vegetables and spices. He has to stop momentarily due to the heat of the stew, so he switches to mashed potatoes while the stew sat to chill. Since he had only one spoon, Whitley set his spoon on the rim of the bowl, lets then digs into the potatoes. They’re soft and creamy with a hint of butter and the residue from of the stew only enhanced the flavor. Once he’s done with mashed potatoes, Whitley’s about to go back to the stew but catches Penny ripping her dinner roll into pieces and dipping them in the stew before eating them. Curious, Whitley tears up his dinner roll in half and dips it in the stew, letting soak for a bit before eating it. It has a nice mushy texture, and the flavor of the stew is mellowed by the soft bread. He keeps ripping and dipping until he’s out of bread then goes back to eating the stew. Despite his graceful manners, Whitley finishes his food first but even with his bowl and plate empty he was still not satisfied. Penny, Pietro, and Klein look at him in awe as Whitley wipes his mouth with a napkin before articulating his delight to Pietro.

Whitley: Thank you for the meal, Mr. Polendina. It was delicious.

Pietro: Uh, thank you, glad you like it. Honestly, I thought I’d given you a little too much but looks like it was just right.

He says while rubbing the back of his head, confused and impressed that such a skinny kid could eat so much. However, his confusion wanes as Whitley goes on.

Whitley: Actually, I’m still a bit peckish. Do you mind if I have another helping?

He asks politely, Pietro smiles and reaches over to grab the ladle from the pot. He knew his daughter had described the boy as princely but didn’t think he’d be this polite, especially since he was the from highest of the upper crust. But here he was, breaking bread and minding his manners in a little Mantle like a little gentleman. And being so sheepish over something as simple as asking for seconds at the dinner table? What a charming young man his sweet pea had fallen for.

Pietro: Of course you can, hold out your bowl!

Whitley has another bowl and a few more dinner rolls, after which he starts to feel lethargic but cozy from the first truly filling meal he’s had in ages. After they clear the table Pietro suggests he settles in on the couch for the night. Wanting to stay but also feeling guilty for inconveniencing his old friend Whitley looks to Klein who gives a reassuring nod.

Klein: My taxi should be arriving soon. I’ll be back to pick you up tomorrow.

He says happily before gathering his things and heading home. Now alone with the Polendinas, Whitley pulls the pillows to mon side and Penny brings him some blankets to keep him warm. They make a bed for him on the couch while Pietro makes a pot of hot chocolate and puts out some ginger snaps as dessert. He takes his holding and retires for the evening while the two love birds relax on the couch. Sipping on hot chocolate between bites of ginger snaps and watching tv with Penny by his side, the only thing that grounds the fact this is really happening to Whitley was the small aches from his sore body. Said sore body eventually calls out for rest in the form of a yawn. It’s a small yawn, surprisingly high-pitched and soft like a cat’s meow. Penny giggles at the cute sound and clears away the empty mugs and plate, giving Whitley space to lie down. He fluffs his pillows and tries to maneuver himself into a comfortable position. While washing the dishes Penny hears him tossing and turning and goes back to help him after putting every away. She grabs one of the blanks and covers him with it just as Whitley finally settles in. As she drapes the soft fabric over him Penny spots a hand-shaped bruise forming around his shoulder and collarbone between the open buttons of his shirt. A small twinge of guilt hits her as she wonders just how much Whitley had stuffed to be with her again.

Penny: I’m sorry we couldn’t give you better sleeping accommodations.

Whitley: It’s fine, it’s my fault for doing all this out of nowhere.

Penny: Still-

Penny reaches out and ghosting the tips of her fingers over the still-forming bruise.

Penny: you went through so much to get here.

She laments. Whitley notices her shifting mood, sighs and grabs her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing her knocks. This stuns Penny out of her guilty thoughts and back to the reality of her love sitting before. Said love sits up and rests his forehead on hers as he intertwines their fingers again, not a hint of the cold, uncertainty, fear, or suffering from his long journey in sight. Instead, his gaze was filled with warmth and affection, all pointed at her and her alone.

Whitley: And I’d do it all again if it means I get to be here with you.

He declares lovingly before kissing Penny’s cheek and laying back down, hand still interlocked with hers. Penny stays with Whitley until he falls asleep. She knows they should’ve talked about how this happened and what to do next. About what happened in the alley before she showed up, what they’d do if his father found out he left the manor, and how they were going to keep in contact without getting caught. But that all could wait til morning, after breakfast they could talk about everything they needed to make sure this wasn’t a one-time thing. But for now, it was time to sleep and rest well in the comfort that despite all the odds against them their love had refused to die.

In the coldest kingdom on a dark rainy night, a unique love had faced every challenge in its path only to flourish beyond what anyone who witnessed it would have imagined. A true burning light in the sea of the city’s darkness.

[hislittleraincloud]

Jesus Christ, where to start with this mess.

@hislittleraincloud there is a LOT wrong with shipping platonic friends.

Newsflash: In the cases of Potter and Wednesday, we're all "shipping platonic friends", even after they've paired up in canon (Harry/Cho, Ron/Lavender, Romione, Hinny; Weyler, Enjax, and presumably Bianca/Lucas). The same could be said of any fandom on Earth that does not necessarily take place in wizarding/outcast schools. That's what fandom is about. We explore all ships, big, small, fluffy, and degenerate...because it's fiction. Fiction offering escapism, and offering deeper perspectives than the cursory character images we're gifted onscreen.

But go on.

I can make a long post about it later. But for the time being: don't forget that children at the ages of 6 to 10 are watching Wednesday.

I haven't forgotten, but I can tell you that 6 to 10 year olds aren't participating in this chronicaly online fandom bullshit (and if some of them are, they need to GTFO fr, because fandom is not for children). I know most of the young fandom here are being fed adolescents are children, but they're not. Adolescents are going through a rough hormonal change that will affect the entire rest of their lives; some do it early, some are late bloomers like Enid. They are very much different from kindergarten and elementary school children, brain-wise.

But lemme tell you what the average child sees when they watch Wednesday: They see two friends/best friends. Kids at that age are still adjusting to our colorful world, and socially (in America at least) are still clueless about things like The Cramps' version of "The Goo Goo Muck" being about oral sex and the whole visual 'joke' of a blowjob regarding Enid and Lucas; they just hear a funny, creepy-ish song with a danceable beat and see a girl who accidentally spilled something on her date. (Adults have been putting Adult Jokes in children's fare since the dawn of animation. See: OG Warner Brothers cartoons, Animaniacs, the Muppets, etc.) They're hardly thinking in subtexts or double entendres because their brains are still grappling with reality, they're still trying to learn how to read and comprehend what they're reading. Subtext is usually taught when children start maturing into young adults when they can start to question and understand the complexities of language and communication, and for me it was in 9th and 10th grade.

Is Wednesday then inappropriate for kids that young? I wouldn't say so, since they're ignorant of the subtext that the older adolescents are taking from it. Kids are resilient, more resilient than we give them credit for, and some kids adore dark n' creepy (because they ARE dark n' creepy 🫠). But it is rated TV-14, and it's always up to the parents to parent their kids as they deem appropriate. If they think that their kid can handle the gore and the teen love stuff, then that's on them.

But no parent should ever let their elementary-aged child participate in online fandom. Even if it's just uploading stories to AO3 under supervision. There's a good reason why a lot of sites say you must be at least 13 to join. And I'm talking this kind of fandom shit right here *gestures all around me*, not like...an official Star Wars website for young fans. I've seen so many cute little kids at cons with their parents who are all involved with fandom in one way or another, but this here is a cesspool of twisted ideas that they can't fully understand and aren't meant to fully understand.

These kids are exposed to daily se*ualizition of two girls( all over social media), who are portrayed as an embodiment of a sibling-like friendship.

Once again, kids aren't supposed to be here in fandom. "All over social media" is part of fandom. The kids you're worried about aren't here, and if they are, they're not supposed to be.

(ETA: Now realize that was a huge wall of text and added the cut.)

You may be queer, but you grew up in an era where platonic friendships were celebrated in TV and films, and everyone respected them. Children were allowed to be just kids and just friends for long years before they started thinking about romantic and sexual relationships.

Don't tell me what I am or what I grew up in. I've got 20 years on your ass, and the reason I can tell YOU what era you, your peers, and your generational subordinates (Z) are living in is because I'm living it too, and am capable of the comparison.

I grew up in an era where social media didn't exist, and none of us had a camera/video camera with us wherever we went. You know what we did as kids, though? We played doctor with each other (a lot like how it was depicted in Afterburn between young Wednesday and young Xavier). With each other and our plushies and other dolls. (And in my case, it was also playing gynecologist with the life-sized blonde doll my grandma sent me one year. I was the same damn age that you saw in the previous Face Reveal post.) Our parents didn't freak out over it, either, because none of it was sexual; going to the doctor was never sexual or sexualized for us kids. It was common and healthy curiosity. That was our "kids being kids" in terms of transactional discovery, but today someone somewhere would scream about how their children were sexually assaulting each other when the worst thing that even happened most of the time was a pants drop.

We had more freedom to act like little assholes, we got punished for it when we were way out of line/someone got hurt or traumatized, but I can't even pretend that we were completely shielded from 🏳️‍🌈 in the media. I was 6½ years old when I watched the first gay character on primetime TV (Steven Carrington of Dynasty; my mother liked Dynasty, Dallas, and Falcon Crest, so that's what we watched). I thought both actors who portrayed him were cute but then was educated on what gay men were by my mother. But instead of immediately feeling disgust, I was a kid who just understood that men can be with other men the way they were with women. It was no big deal to me, even as young and lacking in social connectivity as I was.

The internet, social media, and irresponsible parenting are making people so fucked in the head. Sometimes people are too suggestible, and when one person says something that is patently false, it will just be accepted regardless because they fear losing that shred of connectivity.

And then under that huge hive mind they're unable to recognize what the rest of the world outside of that mind sees. Millar & Gough and their writing crew set out to tell Wednesday's story of how she went from hating people and having no friends to tolerating people and having friends.

But lemme address this "you grew up in an era where platonic friendships were celebrated in TV and films, and everyone respected them" assertion of yours directly:

Like I just said, we didn't have social media. But we had print, and the first Captain James T. Kirk/Spock slash fan fiction was published fifty years ago this month. It was called "A Fragment Out of Time" by Diane Marchant. So for at least as long as I've been alive, NOT "everyone" has respected the celebrated platonic friendships in TV and films. "Fans" have always been freaky like that, and that's fine (I mean, I've mentioned it before, but I wrote my own fucking Purple Rain fan fic sequel 40 years ago, but it's lost to time/my parents probably tossing it...imagine how many others like me wrote fan fic that was just never published or shared anywhere). The only difference is now, we can communicate with others in ways that we only dreamed of before, and we can go out and find our peoples to commiserate, create, and share.

You are my peoples when it comes to a het ship like Wavier, but you are certainly not my fucking peoples when you keep doing things like saying "there is a LOT wrong with shipping platonic friends" while using ONLY slash/LGBT ships as your examples.

That's homophobic behavior.

I don't necessarily ship Wenclair, but I can appreciate the less obnoxious people who do, i.e. the reasonable people who know when they've got their ship goggles on. I support peoples' right to ship who/what they want, but shipping does not come without criticism. I get the criticism all the time, I'm an easy target because Wenovan is That Ship that only few will publicly sail. You get the crit because Wavier/Wenvier involves White. It's time that the Wenclairs also faced some crit, but you're fucking doing it wrong and it is heavily laced with homophobic intimation, so I'mma tell you one last goddamn time: KNOCK IT OFF.

This generation, however, doesn't have that option 🫤. Since every friendship in every show and film gets se*ualized. How is this OK?

This generation that's as strong on shipping as the Wenclairs also had their schooling and social development absolutely fucked by COVID, as well as being influenced by so. Much. Confusing. Shit. Online (which is also fucking with their social development).

None of y'all understand the separation of actors and characters because identity politics is suddenly taking a front seat in everything we do. And a lot of it revolves around gender and sexuality. People/humans have had their hangups about sexuality, but right now it's worse since the kids are objectifying the actors by meddling in their personal lives and aggressively dictating who they're permitted by fandom to be friends with (that much we can agree upon). It's a Mean Girl mentality to get cliquey and tell someone, "We don't like him, you need to stop hanging out with him!" As a former girl, I've seen girls do this to people for little to no reason at all. Anyway.

You feel like you're being inundated with gay ships and disrespect for 'platonic' friendships, but it's nothing new and has always been present in modern fandom. Don't use "because of the kids!" as an excuse to call a ship disgusting or wrong. That's not and has never been how it works in fandom. I was most active in Potter when Ortega was born (💀), and when you were in grade school. I think I can recognize when someone is couching (though not very well) their own homophobia behind the veil of concern, and if you can't see that you're being homophobic, then cycle back up to the beginning where it's about Ron and Harry.

You don't know the consequences of this phenomenon on young minds who unfortunately, never understood the value of building human friendships before they move on to more intimate relationships.

I do know because we're seeing it right now, however: I will agree that it's a massive, massive leap for someone like [Millar & Gough's and Ortega's canon] Wednesday to go from having zero friends to having a girlfriend. THAT'S not how THAT works, either. But at the same time, that would mean that we can't ship Wavier or Wyler either. If you want to respect real Wednesday canon, then by the end of Season 1, Wednesday still isn't looking like she will be partnered with anyone, let alone the werewolf who left her to deal with Xavier while she went to go make out with her boyfriend (canon Wednesday can't even bring herself to apologize to Xavier for fucking up his life because she doesn't ever apologize like a socially adjusted human would).

But fandom's fan works aren't absolutely required to respect canon (unless it's something like an official screen-to-page novelization of a show with a robustly nihilistic narcissist as its main character), you know that. Everybody should know that. We make shit up all the time about the characters, properly objectifying them as the fictional objects that they are. Sometimes studios can be irresponsible and try to play into fandom like they have with the queerbaiting in Wednesday promos/merch like Mejia's book, forgetting that online fandom is fractured and separate from the more casual (and youngest) public, non-chronically online fans.

Stop worrying about the kids who aren't a part of our fandom and start worrying about how the fuck you're coming across in your arguments. Sincerely ask yourself whether you hate the ship because of a fat chunk of its fandom fans and their delusional behavior around it, or if you just hate the ship because you find LGBT shipping distasteful.

Because from where my fat ass is sitting with your additional Harry/Ron comments, you're sounding increasingly like the same moralists* we've been fighting for decades, and I don't wanna fucking fight you. But I will.

@hislittleraincloud there is a LOT wrong with shipping platonic friends. I can make a long post about it later. But for the time being: don't forget that children at the ages of 6 to 10 are watching Wednesday. These kids are exposed to daily se*ualizition of two girls( all over social media), who are portrayed as an embodiment of a sibling-like friendship.

You may be queer, but you grew up in an era where platonic friendships were celebrated in TV and films, and everyone respected them. Children were allowed to be just kids and just friends for long years before they started thinking about romantic and sexual relationships.

This generation, however, doesn't have that option 🫤. Since every friendship in every show and film gets se*ualized. How is this OK?

You don't know the consequences of this phenomenon on young minds who unfortunately, never understood the value of building human friendships before they move on to more intimate relationships.

[bluetooththereptile]

Oh my gosh first of all sorry Blue I think I did go a bit overboard on that ask especially considering it was for a yandere one shot 😂 Ok you don't have to write it thanks for your honesty to be honest I wasn't sure what to give you for yandere batfam. B/c in your original work like with the unwanted reader you went above and beyond with emotions , and in each part it got really suspensful and good. And I wasn't sure if the typical girl meets yandere would cut it I was afraid if I made it to simple you'd be bored with my request. Anyway in hindsight I probably should have read over my ask and made it shorter. Ok so I know its kinda the same ask but it can be more vague and unsaid if you are ok with it could you do a one - shot of a day in the life of growing up from birth with a yandere batfam? But with a male character maybe mid teens and things can be implied but mostly it could be about how his life has turned out from staying so long with them how he is just barely seeing the signs of how strange his life is and his struggle for independence and self discovery and wanting to be his own man and having so many strong male role models in his life yet never seeming to make progress on his own and he is frustrated . Anyway if thats ok with you maybe something like that also I hope you know you never have to feel pressured to write for me I will always appreciate the work you put out and the sensations I felt and remember when encountering your work I like you to and I kinda get it I'm not much of a writer with an online presence but when I do write sometimes for prompts or projects it can be a lot the burnout or just not feeling the scenario or words to fill it out and finish it so take care ok after all you are giving us your time and work and I and others appreciate it so just do whatever feels natural in the mean time I'll be cheering on from the sidelines !☺

Alright now we are talking!

I can do that don't worry! Thanks for asking!

Being a Wayne

Male reader x yandere bat family

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Just saying I may write a chapter two for this~

Tw: violence, injuries

"Master Y/N!" You rolled your eyes as you turned to meet Alfred with your lunch bag in his hands. "You were going to forget your lunch master Y/N..." you gave the old man a half-smile "You know I'm not 12 anymore right? Plus in school, they give us lunch, right Tim?" You turned to your brother who was trying to find a way to get rid of the lunch bag in his hands by putting it behind a plant or a statue "Timmy?" You tried to grab his attention "W-what huh?" He jolted his head up "Oh sorry...did you say something Y/N?" At this point whatever you were going to say was forgotten and Alfred had walked away, leaving you with the lunch bag.

You sighed in frustration, you were not a child anymore! You could take care of yourself! You'd be an adult in just a year and Alfred still treated you like you didn't know what to eat or not! Alright, maybe you and Tim, who was nearly your age, had made some questionable habits over drinking coffee or eating snacks but that didn't mean that everything you ate had to be monitored by someone else! The only time you got to eat something, not home-cooked was when you were on a mission, for sure home-cooked meals were great but you didn't need to be supervised about it!

"Good morning guys!" Dick's voice echoed in the hallway, you smiled at him as he waved to you before turning his head toward Tim "My batring is broken you care to fix it up for me?" He nearly yelled from the other end of the hallway, his phone in his hand "Why don't you do it yourself? Too busy talking to your "baby"?" Tim nagged "Oh hey stop right there young man! I'm an adult with so much stuff to do! As your older brother, I am asking you to fix my stuff because I can!" Tim rolled his eyes "Fine, I'll fix it when we get home!" "That's a good boy! But make sure to fix it before the sun goes down I need it tonight!" "I thought you didn't patrol tonight?" You asked in surprise "No it's Jay's turn tonight, I need it for the mission-..."

Dick trailed off as Tim mouthed him to stop, but it was too late and the secret already had spilled "What mission?" You asked, confused. As a member of the justice league you had expected to be informed about missions happening, so when dick, as the supervisor, knew about the missions concerning the league, you had to know it too! Unless they had "forgotten" to inform you. You turned to Tim with your eyes narrowed, shushing him before he could even open his mouth you sighed deeply. Today's ride to school was going to be a long one.

......

"I thought we were close enough, Timothy!" Tim winced at his full being used, your sarcastic tone adding to The bitterness of your argument "Didn't we agree on not hiding anything from each other Tim?" "Yes but-" "No buts and no more excuses! How could you? It's the third time this month!" You looked out of the window in frustration, trying to calm yourself down, Tim remained silent, knowing that if he continued to make excuses, you'd get angrier.

It was not fair, you thought to yourself. You trained so hard that some training sessions had ended up in you and your father arguing about you pushing your limits too far. You tried to analyze every mission as best as you could so you had better performance in your missions, you tried to be the best but your family left you out of what you enjoyed the most, being a hero.

You had joined the league for six months now, but you had gone on two missions so far when Tim and your siblings were too busy dealing with their duties. It was not fair! Not at all! You bit down on your fist to stop yourself from groaning in frustration. How could they leave you out like this? You were tired of their stupid excuses, they had used all of their tactics to make you believe that something was wrong when it wasn't!

Your physical test for the joining application to the league had gotten rejected several times while you were in perfect condition! Your equipment had broken down without being used, you were left out of the mission calls and your batring were always offline, no matter how many times you had tried to fix it. You knew it was your family's fault, but you couldn't find any evidence. And it frustrated you to no end.

All you wanted to do was to help people around you, just like what your mother had taught you during the first decade of your life, she had told you to become a good member of society, and help the people who are in need of it, just like your father. Bless her soul, you hadn't seen her again since you were ten years old, how could she come out of her grave to meet you again? You thought, your heart clenching in your chest at the memory of her.

......

The ride to school went silently, and you didn't bother to utter a word to your brother for the rest of your time at school. Fortunately, you had Bart and M'gan To fill up your time with. "Wow boy! If my ma were going to put these in my bag I wouldn't have eaten junk food away again!" Bart said as he buried his head into your lunch back, making you smack the back of his head lightly as you chuckled "You look down today...what's the matter?" M'gan asked as she tilted her head to the side, you sighed and looked up at her, she had put on such a good disguise that even you couldn't recognize her easily if you didn't know her new look already, "It's my family..." She knowingly patted your shoulder, you had talked about this before, and no matter how many solutions you had thought of, none of them had worked out.

"I just...ugh! Look at Bart! Look at him!" You said as you pointed at Bart, making the poor guy stare at you with wide eyes "What?" He asked with his mouth full "Am I not as good as Bart?" You asked, making M'gan rub the back of her neck "Well..." She trailed off, making you groan "I may not have any super powers but I bet on anything you say that I train my ass off nearly every day! I try to learn from others, but I'm never good enough!" You made an impression of your father as you deepened your voice "You are not qualified for this position!" You couldn't help but slam your fist on the table, making your plate fall off the lunch table.

"I'm sick of it! Look at me! It's my 18th birthday next month and I'm still treated like a baby! I'm sent off to a school that has cameras everywhere, I don't care if it's nice or not! I'm constantly watched by some strangers! I find trackers sewed in my clothes and bags, even right now I know that someone is listening through my damn phone because it's hacked!" You seeth the last part in your phone's speaker, scoffing as your Jayson's number showed up on the screen.

You turned your phone off as you continued "I'm never good enough! At home, I'm treated like I'm something fragile and outside of it I'm like a failure that needs to stay at home all the time! Haven't you seen Bruce when he's all of the gear and armor? He terrifies the shit out of everyone including me, and I feel madder every day passes because I am not good enough for him!" You called your father by name when you were too angry to help yourself. "I just don't know what to do!" "Let it go, dude...you can start tomorrow, just don't push yourself now..." Bart said, sounding more sensible than ever "Alright..."

It was your last class of the day, and you were impatient to leave, your empty stomach grumbled, making you tap your pen on your notes harder, so you could let out the frustration in a way. You couldn't understand whatever the teacher was saying, your mind was in another world. You were pulled out of your thoughts as a note found its way on your desk. "You okay?" Tim had asked making you scoff again, you turned to your brother, who had his desk next to you "Do I look okay?" You mouthed, making him wince again, a storm was going to hit the Wayne mansion and it was going to end in something good, Tim thought to himself.

......

"Y/N! I don't have time for this!" Your father shouted at you, making your Jae close in an instant, he hadn't shouted at you like this before, He was tired and angry, not on you of course, how could he, but the last weeks had been frustrating to him, and your continuous nagging didn't help him ease it down much. You stood there as your father put his armor gear on, you sighed and looked away, it was not the time to talk to him, you knew it well, that was why you gave given up. You watched Damian pick his weapons up, making your fists clench harder. You understood what your family was going through, but the anger did not subside, it just crawled into your every bone, waiting for the right for you to snap.

Damian gave you a knowing look, reminding you of the conversion you two had effort your father had gotten home, you had offered him help in his patrolling, and even though the boy loved to have quality time with you, he refused. You asked for the reason and he withheld the answers from you, for no damn reason!

So naturally, you had tried to open up the conversation with your father, who surprisingly "didn't have time" for you. And here you were, standing there like a moron. "Dad...can we have a talk when you are back?" You asked, "For what?" He said as turned to you, you looked at him the scowl on his face reminding you of the danger your words could bring. But you swallowed your saliva that had suddenly thickened for no reason "About my missions..."

Your father sighed before glaring at you "Look Y/N, right now the whole world is crumbling down" he hissed as he walked toward you, "Millions of people are in danger!" When he reached you he did something that you couldn't imagine him doing, he grabbed your jaw and slammed your back to the nearest wall "I don't have the time to worry about what is mine! And you, a spoiled brat, can be a virus in my perfect system!" His fingers clenched your jaws hardly as you stared at your father in fear, Bruce was in one of his most dark days and you were unlucky enough to be a victim of the Batman inside him.

Damian was terrified to do anything but watch as your father let go of you and left, leaving you to sink onto the floor, your body frozen in fear and disbelief, your face covered in bruises made by his strong grip, later you'll find out that your jaw had cracked under that pressure but for now you were too busy processing what had happened. Damian rushed to help you, but you stopped him by holding your hand to his small chest, he had duties to do in your father's perfect system, and you didn't want to have that deadly look set upon you ever again, so you pushed him away gently, pointing at his batring that was buzzing.

Damian left you alone despite being worried, but he didn't forget to call for Alfred who would come to help you. Being a Wayne no matter how loved you were, was hard. You had to be the perfect gear in your father's machine, just doing what you were asked to do while your father pulled the strings, and he could hurt you if you were disobedient. Alfred tried to talk to you, but you stared at him like you had met him for the first time, your eyes had opened to the reality you had lived in all your life. All of those lost friends and relatives, those little accidents and destroyed your relationship with many, your life choice being affected by unexpected circumstances, all of that...now you were seeing things in a different light, now you knew.

You were going to get out of your father's sight as soon as you could.

[thecontumacious]

Sincerely

pairing: Shu Yamino x GN!Reader (original request here)

a/n: here's the part two shuca anon! i hope you get this alright! as usual, some slow burn will occur just to forewarn u hehe

guys do you feel that? no? oh you know, writer's block starting to settle in 🤡 GUYS HELP I HATE IT HERE PLS GET ME OUTTA HERE HJHSKJAH

you first met shu when you volunteered as his mod!

and you were a very reliable mod as well, which is why shu had an extra appreciation for you, always working hard and pretty much supervising the chat so they don’t go out of line

and you never fail to insert your own witty commentary as well, ones the chat found very entertaining and even for shu to laugh at from time to time

the chat adores you btw, so much so, they get too much fun interacting with you instead of paying attention to shu

you have to sometimes scold them for it too tbh

Y/N L/N 🔧 : now now chat! pls pay attention to the stream!

while most return to following the rules, some stayed rebellious and continued to sneak in some messages meant for you

shu notices and honestly? he can understand why

in the beginning, when you first signed up and contacted shu to be his mod for his streams, he thought you were a mere huge fan of his

he wasn’t really complaining though so he let you mod anyway

actually, with how well aware he was of his terrible sleep schedules and more inconsistent streaming hours compared to the other luxiem members, shu half expected you to ask for leave when you couldn’t keep up

but… you do

and this piqued shu’s interest

continuation utc!

you weren’t always present, but often enough that shu could see how dedicated you were to being a proper mod

and he really appreciated you for that

over time, it’s not just through chats on stream, you even made it to his discord to continue talking

the first time this happened, he wanted to show you something he couldn’t on stream

“okay, okay. since y/n’s been asking oh so desperately to see what i mean, fine i’ll show u later after stream. okay?”

Y/N L/N 🔧 : shu yamino best streamer. pog.

shu will only chuckle, “best streamer pog huh? i am, aren’t i?”

and the chats rolling in with agreements

"shuuuu post it to twitter so we can all see!"

“post it to twitter? hmmmmm, nahh, let’s just keep it a secret between me and y/n,” shu grins. “ya’ll can’t see.”

even though he meant to only send you that one thing, he found himself showing you more and more on his own

the conversations became longer every day you spoke

it even came to the point where if you one day couldn’t respond to any of his discord messages, shu will feel… empty

he denied this of course, thinking that he just enjoyed your company and was so used to being indulged by it every day

but this spanned out even to during streams

he clearly understood you couldn’t always be there to mod, but he’d much rather you would

the stream without your name highlighted in blue somewhere in the chat, either meant for him or the chat, just didn’t feel as fun

and again, shu continues to deny this internally

but then he’ll find himself scrolling for memes and other interesting things to look at and having the constant urge to send them to you

hoping to see the small green circle indicating you were online and the notif saying you were currently typing a response

shu smiles and never fails to

“ah, dammit why am i like this?” he’ll whisper to himself, resting the phone onto his chest. he stares up at the ceiling and all he could see was you chatting him throughout the day, about the simplest things to the most controversial news happening as of late

then he’ll lightly knock his head for letting those thoughts intrude them

well, they weren’t anything inherently bad… so, it should be okay right?

“you idiot, it’s you thinking about them so much is what makes it wrong,” he mumbles, proceeding to rub away at his face as though it could erase the thoughts of you

but of course, it doesn’t

god, was he seriously starting to crush on you? you, his friend and mod?

did you even think of him the way he thought of you?

did he intrude your thoughts like you did his?

shu sighs, rolling over his stomach and laying the phone down by his bedside table. “i’m gonna forget it sooner or later.”

…

“right?”

ding

y/n l/n 🟢: WTF EVEN IS THAT SHU JKASHKAJHS

yeah, probably not…

even as months continue to pass, your friendship with shu only growing closer every meme sent, it really doesn’t go away

if anything it gets worse. poor shu can’t get you out of your head

he wants you there during streams, he wants to be online when you were online

so what he does is slowly regulate his schedule to match with your availability

shu is pretty subtle about doing it too, so almost no one really notices it

he won’t say it to anyone but he’s super happy and when he didn’t see you drop by or had to leave soon, his heart deflates

“ah, you’re leaving, y/n?” shu inquires, pausing his game to look over at his chat screen.

Y/N L/N 🔧: yeahhh sorry shu :( i have some work to finish tonight

shu can only sigh and force himself to let you go, “alright then. thank you so much for working hard today! otshukaresamadeshuu!”

one day though, you decided to pitch in an idea to shu in a call

“hey shu?” you call out

“hm? what’s up?” he responds, continuing to type on his keyboard

“do you wanna meet up? like irl?”

shu froze

the room was silent, the line was silent. all he could hear was the erratic beating of his heart

meet up

irl?????

with you??????

“oh! uhhhhhh,” shu looks anywhere but his phone, as if the answer was somewhere in there. then he hears you laugh

“you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, shu. i’m just suggesting the idea,” you say

wait no he did want to meet you!!

“no no wait, i do! i’m totally fine with it,” shu laughs, scratching the back of his head. “it’s just, you know, i was a little surprised.”

“really? cool! so you’re fine with it?”

so what if he was nervous? he got to meet you in real life! he was definitely not missing out on this opportunity.

“yeah, totally!”

you two discuss details and in the end come to a mutual decision that you will be the one visiting shu since he had the fuller schedule than you did

and with every promise made through those talks, the more shu realizes he is truly excited to see you

would you be shorter than him? taller? will your real life person differ from how you would talk to him merely through the internet?

ever single day passes like it’s a year for shu and he wonders if you’re just as excited to see him, especially since you brought up the idea yourself

well, today’s the day!

you said to shu you probably won’t be able to mod since you’ll be on your way to where he was

“hey it’s no problem! just make sure you get here safe, okay?” shu says, leaning back onto his office chair since he had finished prepping for this morning’s stream. he laughs, “you just have to compensate for the rest of the week.”

you giggle back, “sure. alright, i gotta go now, shu. have fun with the stream okay? i’ll be here once you finish. the cafe you mentioned?”

“mhm. let me know,” shu says before he finally closes the line.

he was gonna meet you…

never thought he was gonna meet a mod of his, huh?

even though shu had planned today’s stream was just going to be about two hours, he wished he could have cut it down by just an hour

why did 5 minutes feel so long ahhhhhh

shu is restless, a lot more so than usual too and the chat could probably notice with how he’s malding more agitated while playing his game

“ah shoot! come onnnnn,” he groans, aggressively clicking on his mouse

“is it me or is shu just malding today?”

“yeahhh i feel that too”

“shuuu you okay???”

but the chat was paid almost no attention as shu continues to rage on with his game, which to him was just a way to distract himself from having to constantly look at his clock

he only calms back down when he suddenly sees your blue name appear in the chat

“eh? y/n?” he asks, pausing the game

Y/N L/N 🔧 : yoo i’ve been checking ur live tag and ppl have been saying ur malding rn

Y/N L/N 🔧 : #shumaldino

and shu thanks the camera that it couldn’t catch his pink tinted cheeks, one because he almost got caught malding and two, surprised you’re here

the chat on the other hand comes rolling excitedly to see you here

and honestly, he was too

“was i malding? nahh you guys are gaslighting me,” he laughs

Y/N L/N 🔧 : doesn’t matter what u say yamino, im watching the vod later

oh right you can

shu can only sigh to himself, thinking it had been done anyway and there was almost nothing he could about it

a notification from discord comes through and he realizes it was from you

Y/N L/N 🟢: heyyy i’m on my way to the cafe now!

and just like that.

you basically did nothing and shu’s heart is in his throat

he swallows it back down though and somehow manages to text back a reply

Shu Yamino [NIJISANJI EN]: eyyy alrighty i’ll get ready to go then

shu has never been more excited to end a stream????? sorry yaminions

“alright you guys, i think imma end the stream here. it was a fun time and no, i wasn’t malding. that’s in yall’s head,” shu chuckles, clicking off the game and looking over at chat. “i’m a bit short on time right now so i’ll catch up on supas later. thank you guys for the stream! byeeeee otshuuuu!”

and he jumps off his chair, running out of his room and grabbing his phone

he stuffs it into his pocket along with other necessities before he finally ends the stream after things were all set

he was going to meet you!

if people saw him right now, they’d immediately notice how he’s pretty much skipping to his destination, the comical hearts in his eyes and stars sparkling around him

he wasn’t normally like this, shu knew, but it’s just how you made him feel

giddy, excited, everything becomes more fun and worth to witness

shu finally reaches the cafe you both agreed you’d go to but he doesn’t immediately see you

he goes to open his phone to message you on discord to confirm. then he feels a tap on his shoulder and he turns around

“look who it is,” the stranger smiles

“y/n?”

you nod, grinning, beyond glad to have finally seen shu in person

but shu?

what is he seeing right now? he hadn’t seen pictures of you before so to see your physical body was so much to take in

why were you so pretty?????

and like before, shu’s heart is in his throat and it blocks him from speaking properly

it’s only when you wave your hand in front of his face he snaps back to reality

shu’s face is a thousand shades red; you proceed to enjoy the interesting expression

“oh? you doing okay, shu?” you smirk

“pshht, i’m fine,” he laughs it off, but he knows well enough he’s embarrassed himself in front of you

on the first time meeting too sjhkajhd

“but hey! it’s so good to see you!”

yeah, really nice…

the entire day, although it had only been sitting in the cafe with your chosen drinks for hours on end

for shu, he really met the highlight of his day

and when shu thought it was just a stupid crush, he soon realizes that all those thoughts and feelings ran deeper than it seemed

especially every time you laughed, told him something funny that happened recently or talking about your own personal passion

he was nervous at first to meet you for the first time in real life, but there he was, relaxing into his chair as he listened to you retell an experience you had

when the day became darker, shu’s heart darkens too

“oh woah, it’s rly dark out…” you point out, sounding just as dejected.

shu sighs, “yeah, it’s better you get back.”

but he really wanted to stay talking to you more… would you be okay with that if it were possible?

“mhm, well,” you take your things and stand. “i’ll see you soon?”

“oh, um, actually.”

shu didn’t know what he was doing but he was going to shoot his shot anyway

“can i walk you back?”

you stare at him, and now he’s terrified if he said something weird. but you plaster on a genuine, appreciative smile, “yeah, that would be nice actually.”

shu’s heart beams upon knowing he could be with you just a bit longer today

and while it was difficult letting you go, it felt easier knowing you had a wonderful time with him

“up to hang out again tomorrow?” you offered

and the day after, and all the days following it

your hang out places change every day, from adventuring in malls, to scouring the arcade or simple walks through the parks

you might be playing on your switches together, sharing foods you haven’t tried before, or merely talking about life itself

shu rly doesn’t care

your presence makes even the most boring activities more exciting

you might not think it, but he does

but it’s because of this, he starts losing track of time. before both you and him knew it, it’s about time you had to leave for back home.

it’s about time you go back to being friends through discord chats and calls, no more endless talks in cafes or malding at old arcade games together

and what about this aching feeling in his heart?

he felt so comfortable with you around. seeing you leave…? it’s worse than seeing you leave mid stream at this point

shu finally can’t deny anymore just how much he loved being around you and that whenever you left, there was nothing more he wanted than to have you here with him again

it’s too much for him to handle alone and if he didn’t do anything about it, he’s afraid he’ll hurt himself more

but if he took the risk to tell you… would the after effects hurt him even more?

wouldn’t he lose you completely?

this is why shu would rather not have crushes like this, always denying them at first in case he’d get too attached

best for him and the other person, he thought

now although he was the sorcerer, you were the one enchanting him to forget these things he’s established and unlike usual, he’s letting you do them

as he lies awake on his bed, once again staring at the ceiling with the faint vision of you in his eyes, shu yamino weighs his choices

“what if they don’t like me back?” he asked himself. “what if they won’t want to be friends again? what if things change between us?”

why couldn’t he ask for you to just be friends? why couldn’t he get you out of his head?

why couldn’t things be like when you were just his ever reliable mod?

the nocturnal hours slowly change into the bright colors of the morning, colors that admittedly don’t match that of shu’s heart

today was your day of departure

and while it was probably a good idea to not take you there himself to say a proper farewell, as it would bring him more pain but it just didn’t feel right having to send you home alone

so shu picks himself back up the best he can and is already by your place of stay

“hey!” you greet him with bags in your arms. shu reflexively goes to help you carry some

“hey,” he responds and upon looking at you much closer up, he realizes just how… tired? lifeless your eyes were. shu frowns, “hey, are you okay? you look tired…”

you can only smile, “well, you got that right. I, uh, couldn’t really catch on any sleep last night. you don’t look any better, shu.”

he chuckles dryly. “we can both look like zombies together, okay?”

and only for today it seems

the ride over to the airport was uncomfortably silent too, compared to how you chattered with no limit for the past week or so

whenever shu turned to you, looking for some sort of relief from the quiet, you were off dazing somewhere else

he thinks to himself, i wonder what they’re thinking about…?

so he decides to just keep to himself until you’re at the airport, the ache in his heart not alleviating by the slightest

and as he helped haul your luggage over, shu can’t help but compare it to the size of his heartbreak, heavy and weighing him down more than your things

he wondered if it will ever lighten

shu looked over at you, still ever so silent since the car ride

“this is the final boarding call for passengers (airline) booked on flight 372A to (your city). please proceed to gate 3 immediately.”

you turn to shu, “well… that’s my flight.”

god why does it have to hurt so much letting you go like this? why did it have to hurt?

“shu?”

can’t i be with you just a bit longer? please stay for a while…

“s-shu why are you crying?”

huh?

shu finally looks at you again and realizes the blurry scene he was seeing

he blinks and the warm tears fall out. he proceeds to wipe them away, covering up his sorrows with a laugh

“j-just feeling emotional,” shu tries to smile

but you don’t completely buy it, obviously. shu yamino doesn’t cry. if he does, something is definitely up

“shu…” you touch his arm before you proceed to pull him into a hug. one full of warmth and longing. one shu will miss terribly. “i’ll miss you. but we’ll meet again!”

“yeah, i know,” shu whispers into your shoulder, savoring the last moments of you being here for who knows how long. “c-come back soon, okay?”

“i will, don’t worry,” you pull away, grinning. but like before, your eyes are void of that joy.

what can i do to make you stay?

will telling you how i feel make things better?

“hey, shu?”

he looks up, “hm?”

“can i give you something before i go?”

he tilts his head, confused. “sure, go ahead.”

you then go to dig through your bag, pulling out a white envelope, sealed carefully. you hand it to him.

“you can open it whenever you want,” you tell him

shu studies the paper item and back at you

“what’s inside it?”

“again, open it whenever you want,” you look outside the airport’s large windows, sighing upon seeing your intended plane for the flight. “i should get on now, shu. i’ll call you when i get back safely.”

ah this pain again

shu nods, pocketing the letter as he watched you wave goodbye at him.

he holds himself from running after you and he doesn’t know how he was able to let you go for so long

you weren’t seen in the crowds anymore, so that was that

“what did they write in here?” shu wonders, pulling out the letter you gave to him

he rips the seal off, sliding the contents out

hey shu, i had such a fun time hanging out with you this week. heh, you’re probably wondering why i’m saying all this in a letter. but you’ll see why.

remember when i first you as your mod? i thought you were my favorite member of luxiem so i wanted to help you out.

but then we started talking on discord about that thing you wanted to show me. look at me, talking to my favorite vtuber.

then we became friends and hung out almost every day. i do have friends irl, but why is it so different when i’m with you? i always hope everyday that you’d send me another meme, that you had time to call.

after a while, i pushed myself to ask you.

“do you wanna meet up?” i asked.

when you hesitated, i panicked. but you said yes anyway. goddammit shu lmao

then we met for the first time. you could never imagine just how happy i was when i saw you at cafe. i already had so many things in my head what we could do together.

how did we get here so fast, huh? i wrote this last night, the night before i had to leave. and it’s in a letter because i’m too much of a chicken to say it to you out loud.

so here goes.

shu yamino, i rly rly rly like you.

as in, more than a friend. as in i rly like being around you. as in i stay up awake thinking og you. as in i don’t want this week hanging out with you to end. as in me crying right now as i write this sentence.

you probably don’t feel the same, but… that’s okay. at least, you got to know. and if you don’t like me back, i can move on.

but thank you for the lovely friendship, shu.

“sincerely, y/n.”

shu doesn’t know what he’s holding. wait, why was he still here? he had to—

and just like that, he bolts, crumpling up your note into his pocket in a hurry as he shoulders through the crowds

where were you? please don’t already be by the gate

people were cursing at him, but shu could care less

he needed to find you, he needed to give you an answer

there was no way he was going to watch your plane leave and tell you about this through a damn discord chat

there you were!! lining up before the gate!!

“Y/N WAIT!!”

you turn at the sound of your name and you see shu literally ramming down crowds just to get to you

“wait, wait, please,” shu pants as he got a few feet before you. “can you get out of line for me for a bit? just a bit i promise!”

you nod while stepping out, facing shu

“yes?”

shu pulls you in for a hug, holding you tight against him. he was still gonna miss hugging you, but he knows that it definitely won’t be the last

“you have no idea how happy i am right now, y/n,” shu’s voice straggles just a bit and you wrap your arms around his. “you have no idea how long i’ve been feeling the same…”

at this, shu can feel you freeze against him but then you relax, curling up into him as though you’d found a home for yourself

and perhaps, you were

“r-really?” you stammer

shu proceeds to cup your face gently, and you realize that he was crying again. although unlike before, he’s genuinely smiling

and you can’t help but smile back

“really, y/n,” he rests his forehead on yours. “really.”

Masterlist!

[bi-furiosity]

content warning for addiction, overdose, ableism, classism.

since apparently nobody on this godforsaken website knows how to google things or engage critically, some of yall been usin harm reduction in completely irrelevant ways that misconstrue what harm reduction actually is and, believe it or not, that fucking hurts people.

harm reduction: is the idea that moral judgement is not a productive aspect of addiction care and accommodating drug users. it's any practice designed to minimize the potential negative consequences of drug use and prioritizes overall well-being over stigmatizing drug use any further.

harm reduction is a relatively new idea that's only been put into practice in the past few decades, which is pretty fuckin sad considering the majority of it is common sense and was already practiced unofficially in certain marginalized communities.

what does harm reduction include? a whole lot of shit

needle exchange programs

decriminalization of drug usage

community support and outreach programs

access to naxolone (also known as Narcan,) which can reverse the effects of an opiate overdose

recovery programs

supervised injection sites

access to related healthcare without threat of discrimination or legal action

etc.

harm reduction is a wide-ranging field of strategies, it boils down to respecting drug users, meeting them where they're currently at, and keeping all involved parties as safe as possible.

addiction is horrifically stigmatized, and this stigmatization leads to families being ripped apart, people overdosing, incarceration, and a host of other consequences. for many of us, addiction is a reality that we cannot ignore. it's ourselves, our loved ones, our communities. as it stands, marginalized communities are disproportionately affected by the stigma of addiction and drug usage, especially communities of color and poor communities. i am from appalachia, and while i'm not personally in recovery, i was raised by a mother who is. i grew up going to 12-step programs, and i've seen the way the system and its view of addiction destroys lives.

i say this to show the stakes. harm reduction is the first time that the needs and humanity of addicts and drug users has really been formally considered by organizations, much less local governments. it's potentially game-changing for many people. harm reduction saves lives. it keeps kids from being raised by grandparents or in the foster care system. it keeps people from OD-ing in the streets. it gives the chance for addicts to be treated like the people they are, in a world that does nothing but vilify and kill them. every overdose could be preventable. anything that gets in the way of that costs lives.

why is this relevant rn? because people online have a habit of taking serious terminology and diluting the meaning to prove their own point. i'm telling yall right now, you cannot be doing that. i don't even want to get into the specific case that i just witnessed, because point blank, yall cannot be using this to win arguments in fandom or shed accountability. harm reduction is DEEPLY stigmatized in many of the communities its most need in. in 2015, 25 to 40 year olds in appalachia were 70% higher in terms of fatal overdoses than those outside of appalachia. (source) overall, for a lot of social and political reasons, the stigma is worse in places it's needed more. (example)

can harm reduction be used in other contexts? yes!!! absolutely! (for example, it's also utilized by sex workers.) it should be used in other contexts, when it's appropriate and productive.

do you know when it isn't productive? when you're diluting the meaning by using it when talking about fandom shit. for real, if i ever have to see this shit again i'm going to lose my mind. please understand that the misunderstanding of what harm reduction is kills people. it is not a toy for you to play with. undermining the actual purpose of harm reduction gives politicians and opponents to harm reduction more leverage to block life-saving programs that are desperately needed and sorely underfunded.

this shit is particularly relevant rn because the pandemic has led to overdose rates skyrocketing. alright? ok.

FIND A HARM REDUCTION PROGRAM NEAR YOU (x)

reading you can do: (this is not extensive, i'm fuckin exhausted from writing this shit out. if you have suggestions hmu. also they're biased towards wv and appalachia bc. hick.) Understanding Harm Reduction (available in English, Chinese, Punjabi, Farsi, French, Korean, Spanish, and Vietnamese) Reducing Stigma in Appalachia Sex Work + Harm Reduction Stigma Free WV How the Closure of Harm Reduction Changes Rural Healthcare IHRC 2019 Reading List NHRC Resource Center

[knullanon]

How about that family of life steamer reader they can be playing something like metal gear solid or something, because if the reader isn’t a vigilante like them. Do they try to restrict on things that show lots of violence and stuff like that to them even though they live in Gotham though good luck at killing that writers block

ooooo, I like the gamer idea! I decided to go w headcannons for this one :)

warnings: gore, a little talk of drugs, lmk if I missed any!

~~~

let's assume you were already a gamer before they found you. whether it's violent or not doesn't really matter to them, but rather how long you spend on it (there won't be any online games, let's be honest here.)

there may be a certain point where Bruce will look at the game you're asking him to to buy and say "maybe not this one". anything that's over the top or is just known for being too gorey he might stamp his foot on.

another thing that might discourage them from getting you anything is if they belive you're spending too much time without them. for example, if Tim tells Bruce he thinks that you haven't been spending enough time with the family, they will have "babysitting" sessions where you hang out with a different family member each day.

they'll do different things depending on which family member it is- if its Dick, he'll have the rest of family do something fun that day, if it's Damian, he'll have you help out with his animals and try to get you engaged in at least 1 so you'll like spending time with him.

Jason will show you different fighting styles, and on off days (and days where Bruce isn't around) he'll show you how to safely use different guns, under supervision of Alfred, who said yes because he thinks it's a good learning experience.

Timmy boy will have you help around with him different cases, or watch documentaries to try and mimic the "gorey" parts of your games. however, if you're really good he might smoke a few joints with you, or give you edibles (he does not trust you with a joint).

everyone else usually just has the family play a board game. this is because it takes a LONG time for the whole family to play 1 single round of something. they will probably play multiple times, just to make sure your hanging out with them as long as possible.

Bruce... pray to God it's not Bruce. he's not bad, but he gives pep talks whenever you're caught doing something bad. if anyone remembers that one scene in homecoming of Captain America in detention, that's the exact vibes Bruce gives off during his "talks"

now, if they didn't consider your games to be a "distraction", or if they don't think you're not spending enough time with them, then it won't really matter unless they watch you play them.

basically, if you play your cards right, you won't have any issues with them taking away your stuff as long as your cooperative and hide. the damn. gore.

actually, if you're really good at hiding the bad parts, you might even be able to have them play games with you. Duke, Tim, Steph and even Cass come to mind as the ones you would automatically ask first.

everyone else would say yes if you asked, but they definitely seem more... indifferent towards the games.

all in all, just act cool about them, hang out more than you usually would around them, and maybe have another member buy particularly more violent games besides Bruce. they don't mind most of what you do until it starts to dampen their fun time with you.

~~~

sorry if this seems a little different start to finish, I started it yesterday and finished it today 😭

[littlelewdmable]

Penny taking off her limbs to be a fuck nugget because due to internet she wants to be Jaune’s Onahole. Cue Jaune giving her loving, passionate sex and telling her she’s more then that

More Than An Onahole

Jaune was having a pretty good day overall. Sure, he had to fight off more than his fair share of MILFs. Because apparently doing his job and helping some kids was the most attractive thing on Remnant.

But, regardless, Jaune was ready to spend the rest of the day with his girlfriend, Penny Polendina. Yep, that's right. Jaune and Penny. They'd actually briefly dated before the fall of Beacon. Though that was something only Jaune, Penny, and Ruby knew of.

And after the fall...

Well, as Jaune opened the door to their shared room, he was looking forward to the first proper night they'd been able to spent together in well over a year. And he expected it to be a fun night. "Penny, I'm back," he said turning on the light to their room.

What he didn't expect was to find his darling Penny missing her arms and legs, laying as naked as the day she was born (built?) on their bed. "Greeting, boyfriend-Jaune," She said attempting a wave "I trust that your mission in Mantle was a success,"

"Penny!" he said, moving to his girlfriend's side. "Who did this to you? What did they look like? Why are you naked? D-did they-" Jaune tried to say with more than a hint of anger in his voice.

"Nobody did anything to me boyfriend-Jaune," She said.

Nobody did anything to her? What? "Then where are your arms and legs, and your clothes!?"

"I did," She said in her usual chipper tone.

Jaune just stared at her with a dumb look for a long moment. "What?"

"It was necessary to become a 'fuck nugget' so that I could become your own personal self lubricating and warming onahole," Jaune continued to stare at his girlfriend. "My friends on the internet said that it would the best way to serve you,"

"Penny," Jaune said pinching the bridge of his nose, "You know you aren't suppose to be online without supervision,"

"But friend-Blake did supervise me while talking to my internet friends."

"Of course Blake did," Jaune groaned. He was going to have a long conversation with the horny cat-girl. Maybe he needed to get a squirt bottle for her. No, no she'd probably like it. "Where did you put your limbs Penny? We can talk about this once you're put back together,"

"Do you not wish to have intercourse with me?" Penny said, giving Jaune an almost Rubyesk pout.

"No! It's just that-" Jaune sighed. "Okay, fine."

***One undressing later***

Jaune lined his cock up with Penny's entrance as he laid above her. Pushing into her tight hole for the first time in over a year. Penny gasping and moaning as he hilted himself in her.

"I'm free use ready," She said as Jaune pulled back and she prepared to be used, her pussy pounded for hours, by Jaune and his big cock. But the big thrust she was expecting never came. Instead his lips met hers in a sweet loving kiss. Before he slowly buried his length in her again.

Gently he pumped in and out of Penny. Pulling away from their kiss as she stared up into his loving blue eyes.

"Penny," he whispered into her ear, "You aren't some object to be used," he kissed her cheek and the pair made love "By me or anyone else,"

Penny gasped at every thrust. "You're so much more than that. You're a kind, intelligent girl." He kissed her again. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and all those months I spent without you were that hardest of my life,"

"I love you," He whispered into her ear.

"I lo-ah! love you too," She squeaked out, "I'm sor-" She was interrupted by another kiss.

"It's not your fault Penny. I'm just so happy to have you, Penny the real girl, back." Her moans of pleaser gradually raised in pitch and in volume as Jaune increased his pace, and she felt her climax coming. His own climax close behind.

"Jaune!" She gasped as Jaune further increased his pace as they both neared orgasm. Penny's pussy tightened and she screamed Jaune's name as she came.

He groaned as the movements of his hips became less fluid as each shot of cum filled Penny. She felt each shot filling her. Desperately she wanted to wrap her arms and legs around Jaune and never let him go.

Soon Jaune's movements slowed down as he finished. Laying on top on Penny. Panting. She looked up into his eyes. He looked down into hers, and once again they kissed.

***A little while later***

"So Penny," Jaune began to ask "How did you take your limbs off?"

"Well first I removed my legs," She said newly reattached arms holding onto Jaune, "By simply detaching my internal coupling and twisting on the leg. I did the same with my arms,"

"What did you use to remove your arms then?"

"My arms."

[ohifonlyx33]

#My children do have access to YouTube and Minecraft. Because we live in an apartment and eight months out of the year it's deathly hot.#So outside activities are limited. BUT.#I do take them outside when it's NOT deathly hot. And it's not a yard. All the trees are ornamental shrubs and they have to watch for#dog piles and broken glass in the grassy areas.#But climb the ornamental shrubs they do and race around in the grass kicking balls and pushing each other over and rolling down the small#incline of a hill from the sidewalk.#Sidewalk chalk and going to jail and beating each other up with sticks.#Tearing leaves off the bushes and carrying around handfuls of flower petals.#I do wish I could give them more. I wish I could give them a yard.#I cannot. And when they are trapped inside I let them have the internet - heavily supervised.#(I try to keep it balanced. I try.)

@brievel this is lovely. you are engaged with your kids and giving them space to be a little wild and free within the confines of what works for you. And of course there are reasons why people may not be able to go outside or do some of the things I mentioned. Of course I'm not saying that kids can NEVER play minecraft or enjoy appropriate content on youtube. It's not my intention to tell people what is right for them 100% of the time

I understand how my post could come across as an attack or trying to make people feel bad about themselves, but I genuinely hope it isn't seen as an attack.

It's meant to point out something that I see so often which is parents who complain that their kids are disengaged and they don't know why. Yes, kids just gravitate to tech, but also... parents often don't direct or engage their kids from a young age. So it just makes sense that a kid left in a vacuum will fill it up with whatever is being sold to them as cool. And yeah, I was a stubborn child too, so again, easier said then done.

Speaking of my own childhood, even though I was homeschooled and I generally had a fine, fairly stable childhood, I don't remember having that much to "do" or explore. We played dress up and made mud pies in the backyard for a while... but also, I was much younger than my older siblings. My older siblings eventually grew up and didn't want to play with me so much. Doing "hobbies" often seemed hard and involved to much red tape. Getting permission was a hassle. Even if they didn't say it, I knew my parents were worried about waste, worried about too much mess that they'd have to clean up, and of course worried about dangerous influences around every corner. And they had every right to have concerns about some of those things. My mom did try to get me to sew, so kudos to her for that. And for a little while, I tried... but I didn't like it and I still don't. And instead of listening and trying something else, it was like there were no other options. So all I wanted to do was be online.

So now most of my hobbies include a screen.

Back before I was expected to have self-discipline, I wish I had been taught disciplined arts. I wish I had read more. I wish I had gone to the park more and had picnics before I was expected to have a job. I wish I had been dragged to ice skating or dance every week between the ages of 8-12. I wish I had taken painting classes and maybe violin or guitar lessons.

But I didn't know that back then.

So I'm encouraging parents to just be active and engaged with their kids and do whatever they can to develop their kids interests outside of just the screentime.

People will complain that their kids never get off the screen and don't want to play outside,, nut then you talk to them more and its like OH you TRAINED them that way... you didn't let your kids climb trees cause it was dangerous, you didn't let them play in mud cause it was dirty,, and no you can't play make-believe because you might play "violent" games with good guys and bad guys qnd orange-capped guns, and no you can't ride your bike further than two houses down. Even indoors, you don't see the point in wasting paper and paint to make useless crafts. You don't let them help in the kitchen cause they'll mess up and waste food or get burned. They don't get the mirror in the bathroom clean enough. What if they inhale chemicals? What if they hate you?

You're scared of them getting hurt. You want things done well. It's easier to let them do the easy thing. I get it.

And I can't blame parents for being scared, but you gotta let your kids face things while they are young and brave. And you gotta let them be messy and learn to clean up their own messes.

If you don't, then you can't complain when all they do is play minecraft and watch YouTube and get irritatable at you. You haven't raised a healthy, balanced child.

I know it's easier said than done... but that's a problem I see.

[mad4turtles]

Okay, okay, I had to calm down after reading that last request you answered cause WHOOO- 😅

But for another idea, how about one with Casey ii and Leo? We didn't get too much of them interacting other than a tense moment or when a argument takes place and since you did marvelously with the other brothers.....

I cant think of a scenario for them but I know to definitely not doubt that magic writing you currently pocess ✨️

First of all, flattery will get you EVERYWHERE with me XD

Second of all, I'm sorry this took so long, but I really enjoyed the challenge! Here ya go!

---

It's April's idea to drive the whole clan up to her old family home in Southampton for the summer. The turtles were beside themselves with excitement, and with no leg to stand on, Splinter had agreed.

Plans were made, an ex-warring warrior scientist was kidnapped, a caravan was 'acquired' (and modified by their resident genius to fit Raph and Draxum), and they were off. Crammed in what had become a tiny house on wheels, drivers switched between pit stops. All nine of them.

Casey remembers hearing of April's old farmhouse in the rare moments of quiet in the main base. She'd sit down with him after a nightmare or a failed mission—there was plenty of both—and talk about the early days before the war, before the Krang, before mutants or Yokai had been more than a myth or a story in what she called a 'comic book.' She'd get a look on her face, worn with wrinkles and hardened by years of conflict that was softened by the stories of her early youth. Of her parents and the time they had before work took over. Streams and forests unspoiled by pollution (or blood or Krang fluids), singing birds, blue skies and trees that changed with the seasons. It sounded like a dream, a fantasy, and he'd said so aloud.

Commander O'Neil had smirked, a sad thing she rarely allowed, and threw an arm around his shoulders to bring him close. “One day, baby,” she'd said, kissing his cheek, “it won't be.”

As they pull up in the dirt driveway, Casey wishes she was here now to rub it in his face how she was right.

(Technically, she is here, whooping and hollering with the rest of the family as they pile out of the van with their luggage in tow. But it's not her at the same time, and now it never will be. 

He ignores the pang in his chest.)

The farmland itself is beautiful. Wide, spacious, green and free of prying eyes that would have the mutants and Yokai in hiding. The air and the skies are clear, the sun beaming down on them in glares of warm, unspoiled midday gold. He can hear the stream nearby over birdsong and Mikey's laughter as he and Donnie persuade Raph to spin them dizzy on the tire swing they discovered hanging on the branch of a sturdy tree.

Casey drops his bag on the grass. He shuts his eyes, breathes in deep and sighs.

He loves it.

(It terrifies him.)

Once they're settled in their rooms, April gathers everyone in the front yard to pick berries in the brush so Mikey can make pies for dessert tonight. Casey and Leo make up one team, leaving Mikey with a mildly reluctant Draxum as he tugs their stepfather by the hand. April steers Donnie away from poisonous berries, and Raph wrangles a dangerously competitive Cassandra—

“Come, Raphael! We shall acquire the ULTIMATE AMOUNT OF BERRIES! We will be the reigning champions of Berry Pickers in the history of the Hamato Clan!” 

“Cass, yer gonna rip off my arm!”

Splinter hurries to supervise and ensure the safety of the forest under Cassandra's... eagerness.

“God,” Leo says with feeling, watching them go. “I'm still not over her being your mom.”

Casey gulps. “How do you think I feel?”

Berry picking goes about as well as Casey expects. He and Leo fill their baskets, casual conversation flowing naturally—about Casey's online classes, adjusting to big city life, his new favourite food joints with the greasiest hot dogs known to man that he adores—and it's fun. Foraging for food isn't new to him, but the berries look delicious, far more than rats or leaves that reeked of rot and mould. Plus, the routine is comforting. A good distraction from—

From what? How good things are? How much fun you're having while everyone from your timeline is dead?

If Leo notices anything off once they rejoin the others, he says nothing. He gives Casey a searching look, but it's gone after the boy smiles and urges him along, losing themselves amid Cass and Raph's victory screeching, having 'bested' Donnie's team in berry picking with their baskets overflowing. Donnie quietly seethes.

Dinner is more the same—loud, chaotic, messy and everything that comes with the Hamato family. Casey remembers moments like this when he was small; back when the Resistance was stronger, more than just the fractions of the family left in the aftermath of hell unleashed. Master Michelangelo would gather them once a week for a meal between raids, missions and rescues, sit them down in a quiet corner of the base and just—be together.

In those small moments, Casey saw a glimpse of who the Hamato's used to be. Seeing them now, whole and everything they are, and will be, as this timeline thrives, Casey's chest aches with a whirlwind of emotions he can't pin down long enough to name.

That's not true. One is grief. 

He excuses himself after several helpings of Mikey and April's delicious pies, shutting himself in the room he's sharing with Raph and Leo. He flops onto his sleeping bag and stares at the ceiling fan. The sunset filters through the window in shades of vibrant red and gold, bathing the room in its warmth and Casey with it.

He's too angry to enjoy it, and that only pisses him off more.

Damn it, why can't he stop thinking? His future (past? Present? Freaking time travel) is gone. The Krang are gone, defeated, and the Key is safely hidden. Everything Casey had feared and despised is gone, replaced with the warmth, love and care of everyone he knew and everyone he never had the chance to meet. He has a family, a life, a second chance.

But he had a family before, too.

The future he came from may not exist now, but the people he'd known since birth were real. His memories, the scars from training accidents, missions and close calls, are real. His Master's dying words were real. 

And he misses them.

He adores his new family, these mismatched outsiders who have given him everything he never had and more. But he misses Master Michelangelo and Commander O'Neil. He misses the mother he barely knew but loved anyway. He misses—

“When you're done saving the world, do me a favour... grab a slice!”

He misses his dad.

The door creaks on rusty hinges as it swings open, Leo strutting inside like he owns the place (technically, he does, but only for a few weeks, and he has to share). Casey startles, wiping tears off his cheeks with a half-baked excuse on his lips as to why he's crying on the floor, but Leo doesn't give him a chance. The slider is on the floor with him, pulling Casey into a hug. One arm curls around his shoulders, the other cradling the back of his head and pushing his face into Leo's solid plastron. Casey lets him, confused, blinking hard—

“Breathe, Casey,” Leo says. “It's okay. You're okay.”

That's when Casey realizes he's hyperventilating. Crying and hyperventilating. Leo must have heard and come running.

Great.

But he breathes in time with Leo, the turtle's heartbeat strong and steady under his ear, and it helps. 

Just like always.

Because Sensei used to hold me just like this when I was little.

The floodgates burst, and Casey's sobbing in Leo's chest, clutching him for all he's worth, weeks and months and years of grief, fear, loss and guilt pouring out in heaving cries. 

Leo doesn't say a word. All he does is hold him tighter, both curled up on the withered floorboards of an old family home Casey had dreamed of seeing with the aunt who'd spun its tales, with the father and teacher he'd adored, now years younger. History repeats itself in the strangest ways.

(It's as he's calming down, feeling Leo's fingers card through his hair, that he realizes he's seen Leo do this with Mikey not long after the invasion when they were all still healing. He'd done it with all his brothers, with April, and he'd seen Splinter do it in the rare moments of vulnerability that Leo lets himself have.

It's a family thing, familiar and loving in every way Casey remembers. It's different. But it's not bad, doesn't invoke the same guilt that's been following Casey like a shadow since the night he arrived in this timeline.

They're still family. Casey's family.

This Leo isn't his sensei, his father, and he never will be. He's gone forever. But Casey has gained a brother in his younger self—four amazing big and little brothers, a sister in April, fathers in Splinter and Draxum, and... well, they'll talk about Cassandra.

It's a strange feeling. But a good one. A really good one.)

Even once he's cried himself out, Leo doesn't let go until after he uses his mask tails to dry Casey's cheeks—which nearly sets him off again, but now he's too tired to cry. Then they sit up, and Leo smiles at him. 

“I may not get what you're going through,” he says, bracing a hand on Casey's shoulder, “but I know what it's like to feel like you've lost everything while trying to save it. And no matter how good things are here and now, what you lived through won't go away. The memories of the people you left behind will still hurt. And that's okay. As long as you remember that you did everything you could.”

He lifts a hand to cradle the back of Casey's head in his palm, smiling bright and wide. “You saved us. You saved me. And no matter what, you're not alone. You'll never be alone.”

Casey's chin wobbles with his grin. “Right. Anata wa hitori janai.”

Leo's eyes go wide with surprise. Then his smile, touched, awed and proud, returns. “... yeah. You're Hamato, alright,” he says, bringing their foreheads together. 

Casey shuts his eyes and smiles through the last few tears.

Then when they part, Leo is grinning. 

Uh oh.

“Hey,” he says, and Casey feels fear. “Y'know what's a surefire way to cheer yourself up after a moment of emotional vulnerability?”

Casey blinks. “... that's very specific, but, no, what?”

Leo jumps to his feet, hands on his hips. “Help me grab all the pillows from the bedrooms, Jr. We're gonna start something.”

~0o0~

When they return downstairs, precariously balancing the biggest, softest pillows Casey has ever seen or felt in his life, the others are gathered in the comfortably cramped living room. They're settled on the couch, both armchairs and the floor, watching a movie with a dinosaur chasing a jeep full of people. It looks interesting--even Draxum seems invested--but then Leo grabs one pillow and taps Raph on the shoulder. 

The snapper turns, smiling automatically at his little brother. “Hey, Leo—”

WHAP!

Leo slaps Raph full in the face with the pillow, Raph's head snapping to the side. All heads whirl to stare as feathers burst from the case and drift lazily down.

Raph blinks into space, stunned. Leo bites his lip hard against laughter.

On the floor, Mikey giggles madly. Donnie's face flattens as he stands and grabs a pillow from where Casey had dropped them. Draxum pinches his brow. Splinter hurries the cutlery and china back into the kitchen. April scrambles for her phone.

Then Raph shakes with a dangerous chuckle. “Ohohoho, little brother,” he says lowly as he stands. Leo's giggling hard now as Raph makes a show of cracking his neck and rolling his enormous shoulders. “You wanna be startin' somethin'?”

Casey grabs one pillow and throws it to Mikey's grabby hands, holding another up to his chest as a shield.

Raph grins sharply, yanking the pillow from Leo's laugh-weakened grip. “Cos you know,” he says idly, “if you're gonna start somethin'. I'm gonna finish it. How am I gonna finish it, Leo?”

Draxum accepts the pillow April throws at him and holds it over his head, hunching low on the couch with a groan.

“I dunno,” Leo giggles. It's infectious as Casey snorts behind his pillow. Cassandra is standing on the arm of the couch with two pillows at the ready, grinning like a shark.

“Ask me, Leo. Ask me how I'm gonna finish it.”

Leo doubles over with breathless laughter. “How—snrk!—h-how're you gonna finish it—?”

“LIKE A BOSS!”

Raph charges, Mikey hollers “Pillow fight!” at the top of his lungs, and all hell breaks loose. Pillowy, feathery hell.

And Leo was right. It's freaking amazing.

It escalates until they're taking the fight outside, the sun fully set behind the trees and the stars glittering in the night sky as their laughter and shrieks fill the air.

In the middle of the chaos, Casey is laughing. Tears prick his eyes again from the ache in his gut (and face from April's eager swings) rather than his chest, where a new (old) warmth sits comfortably.

He leaps from the trees to ambush Raph with a bellowing cry—

“GOONGALAAAA!”

—and Raph catches him against his plastron, falling back to the grass and laughing his heart out as Casey pummels him with his pillow. “Okay, okay, I'm dead, I'm dead, staph, mercy little brother—!”

“Turtle pile on Raph!” Leo shouts, and that's how Casey ends up crushed between four turtles, April, Splinter and Draxum when Mikey yanks him by the arm to land on top of Cass, who wheezes under his weight.

(Casey understands, now, why Commander April had loved this place.

The clean streams, flowers, untouched grass and acres of unspoiled land are beautiful, Casey's dreams made real. But it's laying in the grass, sweating in the muggy summer heat with dirt and feathers on his face and hair, crushed under his brothers and sister(s?) and wheezing through heaving laughter...

That's what made it magical to her. It's magical to Casey.

He loves it.)

He meets Leo's eye in the tangle of bodies, and the slider winks at him. His heart swelling fit to burst, Casey winks back and says, “thanks, brother.”

Leo stares at him.

You're not my Sensei, but that's okay. You don't have to be. You can be someone just as inspiring, just as amazing. 

His crooked smile wobbles slightly even as he shoves Casey in the shoulder. “Anytime, bro.”

And just like that, Casey finally feels at home.

I'm home.

---

(Please send more rottmnt requests, I love writing these dudes!

Also reblogs are very much appreciated <3)