#systems should heal however they feel they need to

[only-man-in-the-sky]

"I hope you get to heal enough to experience final fusion someday" sorry but that's like actually not possible. yeah. sorry

[p1utofairy]

★ WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT IN REGARDS TO YOUR LOVE LIFE?

NOTE: miss me? hehe. i felt called to answer the bat signal (i saw y’alls messages in my ask box ILYSM) take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. thank y’all for the support always. 🫂

PILE ONE.

ooo this fall i do see a very solid romantic connection coming into fruition for you, pile 1. there’s such a high level of comfortability between you both it’s sooooo sweet and endearing. you could already be friends with this person, but if that’s not the case, they will be your best friend and lover wrapped into one. diary by alicia keys is coming to mind – wow! the energy is very sensual and venusian-like. maybe you or this person has taurus and/or libra placements? you two connect on such a deep spiritual level. i can just feel it, pile 1. opening up to this person will be so easy for you, which is crazy because i feel like you’re not vulnerable/open with just ANYBODY.

lay your head on my pillow, here you can be yourself. no one has to know what you are feeling, no one but me and you. OKAY BYE I’LL CRY RN?! the emotions between you two run very deep & i feel like you both will create such a calm, intimate and loving space for each other. this connection will be so healing — i’m picking up that either you or your person never truly knew what it felt like to have a strong support system or someone in your corner through thick and thin, but let me tell you something, pile 1. you and your person will show up and out for each other!

you might be a bit defensive or standoffish towards this person at first, because you’re afraid of being hurt or let down once again. however, i want you to know that it’s okay to open your heart and be receptive. some of you that picked this pile might have a scorpio moon, because i’m picking up that it’s really hard to knock down that wall you have built around yourself. this person wants to take the time out to get to know you, the REAL you, and all your little quirks and interests because there’s more that meets the eye when it comes to you. i feel like you compartmentalize different aspects and traits within yourself & suppress them to conform to what others think you should be/should act like — but your person is saying f*ck that. they are going to love you in all your glory.

i’m ngl you could see yourself settling down with this person. they’ll fulfill you in so many ways that others can't even imagine or measure up to. this person is going to take care of you & splurge on you. they have very dominant energy and you’re going to love that about them lol for some of you might f*ck around and have a baby with this person. for a small portion of this pile, they might already have a child from a previous relationship. if that’s not the case though, you’re just going to love how hands on they are with you (literally hehe) & how they take the lead and make all your dreams come true. your person also has a lot of sexual energy lol in the best way possible. it’s so sly and lowkey but you’ll be folding like a pretzel pile 1 LOL.

channeled messages:

pov by ariana grande, free mind by tems, touch my body by mariah carey, you’re the only one that i want, dangerously in love pt. 2 by beyoncé.

PILE TWO

i think you need to get yourself out there a little moreeee, pile 2. i think that you’ll have more opportunities to meet new people and have some fun experiences, but it’s up to you to go out there and mingle. you’ve been keeping to yourself for a while now and there’s nothing wrong with that. pulling your energy back & recharging is good for the soul, but you also need to step into your power and claim what’s yours. remember – whatever you want, wants you even more. you’re glowing tf up this fall, pile 2.

you’re definitely elevating and so many people are going to peep it, especially romantic suitors. get out of your heads my lovely pile 2’s and open your mind + your heart to the limitless possibilities and opportunities that await you. you downplay yourself too much! TALK YOUR SHIT. you’re gonna have a couple love interests trying to get your attention & shooting their shot and it might throw you off, but just go with it. f*ck it, the more the merrier. lol i’m kidding but seriously have some fun!

you’ll know who is worth the chance and who isn’t. some of you that picked this pile might be a little inexperienced when it comes to relationships/love, so you just need some side quests and test runs to decipher what you do and don’t like lol. i’m also picking up a situation-ship vibe from this pile as well – some of you might have a lot of options but all you can think about is one specific person. you might not be talking to them right now, but your guides don’t want you to worry too much about them. focus on how you can create the reality you want for yourself. you’re the main character of your story, don’t be a perpetual side character in somebody else’s. i’m getting a lot of different messages for this pile, but one of the main things that’s sticking out to me is that whoever you pick/choose to entertain, you will have intense sexual chemistry with that person lol. you won’t be able to fight it hehe it’ll be the start of something new and exciting, pile 2.

channeled messages:

body by summer walker, go out with your friends, lemon drop, out of my head lupe fiasco ft. trey songz.

PILE THREE.

oh my, pile 3. did y’all just get out of a relationship or situationship? it’s really giving that. i think you need to work on becoming more grounded, and enforce healthy boundaries with your romantic partners and just everyone in general tbh. you’re so giving and nurturing. you’re always pouring into others, but where are they when it’s time to pour into you? you’ve had to come to terms with this the hard way :( people think that because you’re so compassionate and forgiving that they can walk all over you. this feeling of frustration has bubbled up inside of you for so long now, that it makes you feel pessimistic when it comes to love.

your guides want you to release this energy and not let it set you back or deter you from opening yourself up to a new partner that can and will cherish you. your love is very powerful – you are a REAL lover! if you get knocked down, you’ll rise up 10x stronger. please remember that always. your love is divine, it’s pure and it’s simply addicting; that’s why people felt like they could just take and take and take without you saying anything to them. the person that you were previously connected to knows you have a good heart, but they don’t value it. i am very happy to let you know that there is a special someone out there that will, and they are coming towards you.

they will claim you loud & proud and be so greatful to have you in their life and by their side. your person is so encouraging and kind, yet a lil rough around the edges – you almost wouldn’t expect this from them. they’re definitely going to match your freak lol. physical touch + words of affirmation might be their love language too btw. i think you need to let go of your ex/previous situationship, and take a leap of faith into the unknown with this new person. their love will feel so freeing and refreshing <3 the love between you both will hold no bounds. you deserve this pile, 3.

channeled messages:

wait for you by future ft. drake & tems, i’ll be there for you/you're all i need by method man ft. mary j blige, maddy perez, mula, ketu-moon aspect, anything by SWV, the weekend by sza.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii, could you write about reader being a support system for Caracalla and Geta? Mainly Geta? Cause Caracalla has his brother and Geta carried the burden of the empire and his brother's illness but who Geta had? 😭

Thanks

Words weren’t needed when you could clearly see the heaviness and exhaustion with Geta’s eyes and how lifeless he seemed as he gazed out to nowhere in particular. It was a sight you saw multiple times whenever you were called upon this late in the night, nights where you could tell the day had taken everything out of Geta in ways you wouldn’t truly understand, yet you could feel deep within your heart that the laurels upon his head weighed so heavily he might as well have the entirety of Rome slowly crushing him.

You knew how much pressure he was under and how tied his hands were with ruling Rome while also caring for Caracalla and his illness, you only knew this because besides from Geta himself you were Caracalla’s secondary support, only for times when he acts against himself if Geta himself was occupied elsewhere. You subconsciously rubbed the now healed scar upon your wrist that seemed to burn with remembrance of Caracalla’s last outburst where Geta was meeting with the senate, if only you had gotten the knife out of his reach in them to prevent your injury, however such an injury didn’t stop you from keeping a strong hold on the emperor as he continued to scream until his lungs gave out and he inevitably collapsed from exhaustion.

Tonight you knew was a heavier one as the air felt thick, felt stifling and borderline suffocating, almost as though with each breath you took you were unable to get back to your lungs like it didn’t belong to you anymore for it was someone else’s. ‘My emperor your eyes weigh heavier tonight than the last.’ You speak softly as you awaited for him to gesture for you to sit by him as per routine, wanting him to have a choice in something for once and to give him the freedom of choice in whether he wanted your company or not.

Geta maybe the emperor but something tells you that most of the time he didn’t feel as though he had any power to wield, for there will always be hushed words in the shadows behind his back praying upon a moment to dethrone him; only to replace him with a better fit as gradual trickles of paranoia and fears of betrayal bleeds into his mind. He was torn between Rome and his brother, yet he was lost and not willing to seek guidance from the very same people who ultimately lead him down the path they needed to be rid of him. Geta couldn’t make clear of his thoughts as they all seem to blur into one incomprehensible mess of chaos and doubt.

His deep brown eyes looked at you from between fingers as they conveyed every ounce of emotion he was feeling as tears silently streamed from them. Yet despite how pathetic he might feel, to you he looked ethereal when he was deep within his emotions and looked like the many sculptures and statues you seen, carefully crafted by gifted hands to be able to be seen as art even when rampant with conflicting emotions. Geta was a young man and right now he wasn’t ruthless or sadistic, he was alone and he was lost amidst all the chaos that happened under his reign, and was silently crying out for someone - maybe the gods- to hear his plea for help and aid.

So the gods sent you as his aid, his support and most trusted confidant that it scared Geta to no end how deep his faith in you was. Everyone else could betray him and yet he’d knew you stood firmly by him and Caracalla, you knew on a level which many didn’t and he couldn’t help that whenever he felt lost or hurt you were the one he’d always call upon, for he’d knew that you didn’t care whether it was day or night you would always be there should he ever need you; and right now he needed you more then ever before for the burden was far to heavy for him to carry alone anymore.

‘My eyes have always been heavy.’ Geta replied. ‘That much we’re both aware.’ he then extended his hand towards you, palm upwards in a silent gesture for you to take into you own, which you did as gently as you could by trailing your fingers across his open palm gingerly -and feeling him slightly stiffen beneath your grazes- before intertwining them between his own as you sat beside him.

‘Your eyes are burdened with so much, yet as much as your souls wishes to yield, you do not and instead push forward.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand in soft reassurance. ‘My emperor you are human with limitations and that is not something to be ashamed of, it is not something you should consider a fault on your character for being human. Power tends to make people forget often that the person with the most power within their fingertips was just as human, if not more than the rest.’ You added as you watched Geta as his jaw and feel his hand tightly grip your own in response.

‘You are too kind towards a soul like mine, far too kind to have to be scarred as you have.’ Geta says in a low voice as his thumb rubbed over the scar on your wrist, his dark eyes softened and filled with a semblance of guilt but also relief in knowing that despite seeing the worst in his brother, you still stayed by them regardless like a pillar of support for them both. It was something that he had admired in you for a while but wasn’t given the chance to voice how grateful he was for your undivided support and open mindedness when it came to dealing with himself, Caracalla, his illness and having to deal with being the only person that the brothers could rely on.

‘And I wouldn’t change it for anything.’ You reassured him as your other hand rested against his face, stroking away his tears and feeling your heart ache upon seeing the way Geta was quick to burrow his face into your hand, his face relaxing into your touch as the worry lines fade from view; showing you the handsome man beneath the emperor. ‘I will gladly be your pillar to rest upon, a shoulder to wail your ails into should it take the pain off of your soul, as I only wish for you to share the burden with me however you feel for no man should carry a weight heavier then himself alone. Not even yourself my emperor.’

‘Geta, I told you once before to refer me as my name when it is just us, you are more then deserving of such for all you’ve done for me and my brother both, but me in particular for you are a gift given to me by the gods.’ Geta then opens his eyes to look at you in a way that felt admirable and almost worship like that it was enough to leave a wave of warmth overcome you. It was odd to have Geta view you in such a way that you never noticed before, after all you were just someone he and his brother could lean on for emotional support and attention that they both lacked, yet you felt reminded as to why you did what you did in the first place; you wanted to be the respite Geta couldn’t give himself.

‘Apologise Geta I must’ve forgotten in due to proper formalities required when addressing you and your brother.’ You told him but he only weakly waved his hand dismissively.

‘I have no need for your apology when you’ve already proven yourself a trustful person to be allowed the privilege to address me as such. Yet I feee it’s the least I could provide you that could amount to the help you’ve been.’ Geta nuzzles himself back into your hand, eyes tired and body desperate for sleep from everything that had plagued him deeply. His brother was fast asleep from his early outburst in thanks to you and everything with the senate was settled, all the young emperor wanted now was to just live on this moment with you for as long as he could, but your warm presence and kind touches were enough to have him drifting in and out of consciousness.

‘Then if I can be bold and implore that you rest for the night.’ You then say as you could see the fight within him on whether he should stay awake with you or fall into a slumber with the rest of Rome.

‘Then if I may be so bold and suggest that you rest here beside me.’ Geta responded as he gently tugged at your hands, pulling you into his arms with effortless ease before bringing himself to rest against his aching back against the plush bed with the expensive sheets. Normally you would be against such a thing, but with the events that had played out prior only left you tired and equally as desperate to fall into a state of slumber with the rest of Rome.

‘Only for tonight.’ You said in barely above a whisper as you rest your head on his bare chest that peaked through his robe, hearing his heart beat against your ear as his hands rested against your back, rubbing up and down it soothingly and softly.

‘Only for tonight.’ Geta echoed.

This wasn’t the only night you spend sleeping in the same bed as the emperor himself, at least as two separate individuals at least.

[sirenmoontarot]

How do you need to nurture yourself? ☁️🕊️

𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

~~~~~ 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 ~~~~~

Welcome to the cottage! I am Alla <3 Sit with me in the garden and let’s have some mystic tea as we see what the Oracle has to tell you. Take what resonates and leave the rest!

Pile 1

Okay guys so for this first group i feel that what you actually need to do is to shine on and embrace yourself as how you are and instead of giving into the chaos of uncertainties and your emotions, allowing yourself to gently flow through those emotions in order for you to be fully yourself. We have the moon theme twice, you would benefit from connecting with it, and using the full moon to manifest. I strongly feel you need to expand your energies, you are constrainign yourself a lot of the time, you dont know how to navigate in your own emotions, this pile is encouraged to believe in your power to create, vision, manifest, create the lifeyou want. The power of the yet-not-created is yours. However in your journey this is continuousl affected by pains and shadows of the past, making you sttray away from you power and purpose. I sense many people of this pile have number 11 prominent in their numerology or birthday. Indicating you are called to lead in this lifetime and you also have a strong purpose here that could be related to spirituality, but it often is hard to manage or not fall in the negativity that makes you sabotage everything. The moon reminds you you are in constant fluctuation and you should embrace the ‘’becoming’’ and the feminine principles of flowing, and embracing your emotions. Times of rest and restoration are needed for you to recharge and connect deeper. A new depth of your spiritual practice is calling you. You should aim for ease and stillness, this will help your mind and life overall. The archeptype you have to heal within yourself is ‘’the judge’’ are you using this to be critical ofyourselg, punishimg, unforgiving, building walls around you? This is a powerful energy and it is a gift of discernment, to do the right actions, power, advocacy and compassion but you have to be careful if you are channeling it wrong towards yourself and therefore others…

Pile 2

First of all I am hearing guys you should believe more that you are on ther right paht, because you are. Start walking more confidently in your life, be in presence, strongly with the conviction that you are where you need to be. You need to work on your shame feelings, everything that doesnt let you live as you would wish. You need to meditate more to calm down those thoughts and dissolve those traumas. To find an inner temple inside. Stop hesitating so much, it all comes from childhood wounds. Many people of this group will resonate with the childhood wound of humiliation. You need to feel mothered, some of you in this group need this very strongly, due to mother wound. Connecting to the earth can help you on this, and after that, you will also learn to mother yourself. You also struggle to fully connect to yourself and find yourself a reliable, sacred space. This is normal it also comes with growth, but you are led to do this now, find or create a sacred space within yourself. The feelings of safety are necessary to you as well. sometimes trauma gets embedded in our system, but we are not always in danger. Practicing the mantra ‘’ i am in peace ‘’ can help you a lot. You need to find security in yourself! Also remember to give yourself the space to evolve, change, with ease, grace, and nurturing. Let yourself shed as many skins as you need. Life might have been extra tough for you lately, as if Saturn was lashing you, lol but you are called to breathe and find activities, places that allow you to breathe, expand, release the tention, stress and burden, and this way see the colours of life again. I am seeing lots of green so again, for this group connecting to nature specially trees and rivers will be very nourishing for you.

Pile 3

Okay you guys for this group the energies are very clear, i am getting PRAYING, connecting with the divine; you should hand over your worries, problems and burdens to the Divine. Put your hands on to work, on what you can control and let God do the rest. Hand it over, The thing is, the Divinity wants you to, not put your energies, focus, power in the wrong things. Some things have to end from your life, for actually better things that would be surprising to you will come. Don’t attach yourslef, mainly is out of fear or unawareness of the wonders of the universe. Do not force, let thing run its course, and count on the Divine to help you out, ask God and your angels for an easy path, for the solution, for them to guide you in ease and out of stress. The Divine wants you to start living your soul’s path, and not to focus elsewhere, things that may seem shiny are actually a void, there are other paths that are more aligned to our soul’s nature, abilities and evolution. You are called to go to a temple, you could also create one, or make your house/room a little temple. You are also called to nurture your human vessel, both physical and spiritually and actually embrace this term of Vessel to know more about what it means and might represents for you.

~~~~~ 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 ~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Remember, take what resonates, leave the rest. Lots of blessings ☁️���🌙🕊️

~~~~~ 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 ~~~~~

[swiftyangx12]

🎃🍭🧁Universal Studios Japan: Halloween Horror Nights! (Not Sponsored!)🍰🍬☠️

[Synopsis]: Kenji and [Y/N] came to celebrate Halloween by visiting USJ for their annual Halloween Horror Nights.

[TW]: Nothing, really.

Venom![Y/N]: Kenji, thanks for planning this date. I always wanted to visit USJ, especially during Halloween.

Kenji: *Adorning with a baseball cap* You always hinted you wanted to come here, so I booked us tickets for tonight.

Venom![Y/N]: Which I’m grateful for. It’s still pretty early since the shows don’t start until around 7.

Venom: “We should try the snacks and maybe taste some “zombies” later on.”

Venom![Y/N]: V, those are scare actors. Not the actual undead.

Kenji: Venom being a pain in the ass, again?

Venom![Y/N]: Don’t worry about it. We should definitely try out some rides and maybe meet Hami-Kuma.

🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️

[7:15 p.m.]

[Y/N]: Just in time, the shows are starting.

Kenji: Your friend hasn’t bother us for a while.

[Y/N]: Oh, I let him out.

Kenji: What?

[Y/N]: No worries, he’s probably hosting someone who nobody would suspect. I even told him we’ll meet up at Mel’s Drive-In at 9.

Kenji: You’re really causal about that.

[Y/N]: It’s not the first time he’s out of my body. Remember how he snuck in your system for quick healing?

Kenji: *Shivers from the reminder* Don’t need to be reminded.

[Y/N]: He’ll come around. Let’s have some fun!

🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️

[One Hour Later]

[Y/N]: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!

[Another Kaiju attack at USJ]

Kenji: Go somewhere safe.

[Y/N]: I’m not going anywhere.

Kenji: You don’t have V with you.

[Y/N]: I can still help. I’ll take everyone to safety.

[The Symbiote host helps the guests and employees to exit out of the park. Meanwhile Kenji transforms into Ultraman and now occupied handling the Kaiju.]

Ultraman: “Could use some reinforcements.” *Holds back the monster*

[A little kid fell over and [Y/N] hurries over to pick them up in their arms.]

[Y/N]: It’s okay, I got you. Where’s your mom and dad?

[A married couple waves at them and [Y/N] sprints towards the two, hurrying their pace. A dark shadow hovers cast over [Y/N] and the kid, feeling panic while trying to speed through. Just a split second, Ultraman pulls the Kaiju away on time as [Y/N] returns the couple’s kid safely. The parents thanked them graciously for saving their child before disaster struck. They left quickly before more damage could be done.]

Venom: *Crawls up behind [Y/N] and merges back in their body* “What did I miss?”

[Y/N]: A lot, V. Ultraman still needs help. Mask!

Venom: “Copy!”

[Venom took control of their body and enters into action to aid Ultraman.]

🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️🎃🍭🧁🐻🍰🍬☠️

[After The Fight]

Kenji: [Y/N], are you alright?

Venom![Y/N]: I’m okay. And V’s with me now.

Kenji: That’s good…Don’t risk your life like that, again. I almost lost you.

Venom![Y/N]: I’m still here, alive. Talking and still breathing. Sorry for scaring you, Kenji.

[Kenji hugs [Y/N] gently and released them from his embrace.]

Kenji: It’s alright. I’m sorry this date is a mess.

Venom![Y/N]: No, Kenji. It just happened so sudden. I had fun before the attack.

[Then announcements came throughout the park.]

“Attention, park-goers. Due to the recent Kaiju incident, shows for Halloween Horror Nights have to be canceled for the night. However, we are still open to be hosting a big celebration for Halloween! Showtime!”

[Ado - Show]

Venom![Y/N]: Kenji, our date isn’t a complete bust.

Kenji: Then let’s celebrate our victory together.

Venom![Y/N]: Shall we dance? *Holds their hand out*

Kenji: Yeah, we’ll dance. *Takes their hand in his*

[The two celebrated Halloween together and enjoyed each other’s company in the remaining night.]

[Reblogs help creators and creates more content]

[thelemoncoffee]

been thinking about a post game au

the idea with it mostly is just- inverse of the usual saiouma post game, where Kokichi is fine and Shuichi isn't, but also it's not quite that either.

basically thanks to my hcs about Kokichi's blood family and DICE, i can genuinely see Kokichi slowly getting better post game instead of just self destructing into oblivion because they wouldn't let him do that. he absolutly starts off horrible, a shell of the person they once knew, but through their stubborn help and patients with him he gets better and recovers enough for his life to go mostly back to normal.

obviously he still has issues- the big ones being PTSD triggers, and his unwillingness to actually confront and work to heal his trauma from the killing game instead of just burying it and hiding from the rest of the cast- but he'd doing far better than anyone could have anticipated he'd be. his life still isn't perfectly normal, and it won't be till he confronts that trauma, but DICE and his family aren't going to let him keep doing that forever- he may be stubborn but the apple don't fall far from the tree and 13 against one is one hell of a uphill battle

Shuichi however, Shuichi's not looking to hot. the game left him with even more detective work based trauma, and because of this he feels he can't handle continuing to work for his uncle's agency. growing up he only did detective work as his way of making up to his uncle for being a burden, and while Uncle never saw it like that and is more than happy to keep Shuichi around because he love him, Shuichi could never detach himself from that mindset and felt that now he can't do the work he should move out.

Uncle does not want this to happen with Shuichi in such a bad mental state, especially because Shuichi cut off contact with the rest of the cast for a variety of little PTSD related things and thus doesn't have that many people left to lean on in his time of need, but Shuichi made up his mind and moved in with a friend he had before the killing game who he feels like he can make up to for relying on without causing himself immense stress.

the only problem with this friend is they- nor anyone else in their friend group- have the right skill set to actually be a sturdy support system for Shuichi, so he's unable to recover properly and spends alot of his time locked up in their apartment when he isn't doing the job he got to pay rent with. he isn't worse off than he was when he got out of the killing game, but he isn't better either, he's just depressed as fuck and the only thing keeping him from hitting rock bottom is his roommate and small friend group. his uncle is still in contact too, but he's also bad with emotions... he's not getting anywhere either

now imagine if you will for me- these two meeting again by chance at a convenience store or something, Kokichi looking mostly happy and healthy to Shuichi's surprise, and Shuichi looking like he hasn't slept or changed outfits in a month to Kokichi's dismay

[amuseintime]

Shattering Realization (Pt 4/4)

Star Souls AU

Not the end of the AU, buuuut of this section of it :3c

Sif’s awake! This means everything is back to normal… right? Right? Of course, Odile doesn’t intend to just let it go that easily. Some things are answered, others are not.

Odile POV

<< PREV || FIRST

——————

Odile slept surprisingly well considering Boniface almost gave them a collective heart attack the evening before. The troublesome preteen apparently decided to sneak into Isabeau’s tent and snuggle up with Siffrin in such a way they could barely see them. If not for the fact that Mirabelle caught Siffrin moving slightly, they likely would’ve been out all night. While she would’ve appreciated their rogue at least attempting to signal them, it didn’t seem like he could very easily talk, and the sight of him stroking Boniface’s hair was admittedly enough to warm even her overly practical, often abrasive excuse for a heart.

Of course, even the best sleep and mostly finely crafted sleeping bag in the world would not prevent her back from hurting after another night of camping. A truly disconcerting number of clicks and pops filled the tent as she sat up, trying to ignore the twinge of pain. Nothing to be done for it except a stretch or two—battle-specialized healing craft only did so much for muscle aches and old bones.

Odile put on her day clothes and shuffled out of her tent with a container of tea leaves, the siren song of caffeine calling to her. Thankfully, it seemed all was more or less as normal in the little group. Mirabelle and Boniface were already up with a fire going, the preteen cooking some eggs. However, there was one thing both odd and relieving: Siffrin was also awake, helping feed twigs into the blaze.

“Good morning, young ones. Good to see you feeling better, Siffrin,” she said.

“Mm hmm. Same as ever!” Siffrin chirped. “Just needed a longer nap than usual, sorry about that.”

That was an understatement. “Siffrin. Being asleep for over a full day does not count as a long nap so much as a short coma.”

Mirabelle jolted in place. “Madame! Should- should we bring that up? I mean-“

“It’s fine?” Siffrin said. “I knew it was coming. So… what do you want to know?”

“Nothing that can’t wait until after we’ve all eaten and I’ve gotten caffeine in me.”

Boniface side-eyed Siffrin, scraping at the eggs with unnecessary aggression. “… ‘Cept Frin. You can’t actually eat, can you?”

Siffrin hid his face in the collar of his cloak, head tilted so his hat hid his eyes as well. “Not in the traditional sense, no…”

“…. So what? Have you just been throwing your portions out?”

“Of course not!” Siffrin said, shaking his head emphatically. “That’d be a waste! I’ve just been sneaking them onto other people’s plates.”

Mirabelle gasped. “So I’m NOT crazy! All those times I thought that the food wasn’t ending, that more just kept appearing, that was you?!”

“Um. Yes. Sorry?” Siffrin said.

Boniface sighed, “You don’t gotta humor me anymore. I guess I keep the same portions though, since everyone was eating your share anyways?”

“Oh. Yes, that’s fine,” Siffrin said.

Odile put on her tea, and Mirabelle went to wake up Isabeau as breakfast was done. Bonnie divided up scrambled eggs for everyone who could eat, but…

“Oh? Siffrin? Are you not hungry?” Isabeau said, earning a charged look from everyone. “Did I say something weird?”

“I don’t have a digestive system, don’t worry about it,” Siffrin said.

“Oh! Oh… right. I guess you wouldn’t,” Isabeau said.

Odile read a book for most of the rest of breakfast, but it didn’t sound old she was missing much of interest. It was abnormally quiet. Siffrin apparently decided to start cleaning up before everyone was even done, the mess mostly gone by the time Odile finished her plate. She sipped the last of her tea—strong and black, just as she liked it—and decided it was about time to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Siffrin, you aren’t human,” Odile said.

Mirabelle immediately started stammering, Boniface mumbling something with their arms crossed while Isabeau looked nervously at Siffrin. Siffrin, however, simply nodded. If she didn’t know that his face was crafted with naturally a neutral expression, she’d assume his current smile was literally painted on.

Of course, he didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else, so seemed she’d have to take the lead here.

“So what are you then?”

Clearly he was some form of supernatural being, but that narrowed it down surprisingly little. Given how human he usually acted, it seemed most likely he was a ghost, but assumptions were dangerous. Besides, ghosts tended to haunt important areas of objects and usually had an agenda, a reason to linger, and to be blunt, Siffrin seemed fairly aimless. So presumably, he was a spirit of some sort, but that did virtually nothing to narrow it down. “A spirit” could encompass anything from the simplest Sadness to, arguably, gods. Of course, there was always a chance he was built into the doll that housed him, making him something artificial, and really it was going to be faster to ask.

“I don’t know,” Siffrin said.

Oh she could feel the migraine coming on. “… what.”

“I don’t remember really…?” Siffrin said. “I know I’ve been wandering around a while, but I don’t really remember why. I guess just because I don’t have anything better to do?”

Old suspicion flared up as she narrowed her eyes. Generally speaking, spirits didn’t just “forget” what they were, at least not any developed and/or human-like enough to have coherent thought.

“So… you aren’t a ghost?” Mirabelle said.

“Maybe…? But if I am, I’m kind of bad at this,” Siffrin said. His eyes slid between all of them as he pulled one leg into his chest. “Sorry, I’m sure this isn’t making me sound any less suspicious or weird, is it?”

“Not really, no,” Odile said. “But I suppose if you’re telling the truth, it’s not entirely unheard of…” She’d heard a few tales of amnesiac gods, of things great but either stupid or unfathomable, of spirits and beings who hid things for reasons. It was hard to tell what you were dealing with until it was too late. Pressing him too much was probably a bad idea. Better safe than sorry.

“You seem to know a lot about this, M’dame,” Isabeau said. “Is your field of research spiritology?”

“The word you’re looking for is Phasmology, and no, it’s not my field of research. Much of what I’m saying is more or less common knowledge in Ka Bue, though I’d argue that we’ve historically placed too much stock in the works of spirits and ghosts. Though I suppose it’s only natural. Much easier to blame something you don’t understand on an unknown spirit than try to find the science behind it. That said, I don’t think you know what a heated debate is until you bring up the Bright Death in a room full of Ka Buan historians. I got a rib cracked for that.”

“… huh.” Was all that Siffrin had to say. Taciturn as always, it seemed.

Mirabelle cleared her throat, speaking with the slow deliberation of someone holding something back. “So… Even if you don’t remember what you are, you’re aren’t flesh and blood either, are you?”

“Nope,” Siffrin said. “I’ll admit, I don’t know the name for this material, but…” He was grinning. Was grinning that grin. The grin that came before a particularly bad pun. He was even rubbing his hands together. “If you want a closer look, I can give you a hand with that!” And then he tossed his hand to Mira.

As in the whole thing.

It just. Popped off.

“SIF?!”

“OH CHANGE OH CHANGE OH CHANGE-“ Mirabelle shouted, hands fumbling with the detached limb until instinctively flinging it away.

Odile felt vaguely nauseous, and Boniface’s eyebrows were furrowed together. They came to hide behind Odile.

And Siffrin was laughing. Though as they all kept staring, he seemed to wilt in front of them. “Uh… too much? Sorry, I-I thought it’d break the ice…” He got up, awkwardly shuffling to where his gloved hand had landed and putting it back on with a pop, wiggling his fingers demonstratively. “See? Good as new! No harm done!”

“Sif. Siffrin. Buddy. Are- are you okay? That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Isabeau said, hand hovering in the air.

“It doesn’t. I’m designed to come apart, when I need to,” Siffrin said. He hesitated only slightly before pulling his cloak and sleeve up, exposing his elbow joint. “I actually, um, have to take myself apart sometimes. For cleaning.”

Mirabelle’s eyes were a bit too wide, but she kept her composure surprisingly well for someone who was screaming moments ago. “Is that… scary? I mean, you have to take yourself apart.”

“I mean, not really? It’s probably like taking a bath to you guys.”

Isabeau was staring intently at the exposed “skin” of Siffrin’s arm, face flushed. Gems alive, that man was head over heels, wasn’t he? Getting flustered from the slightest showing of not-skin.

Odile rolled her eyes, unable to deny the fondness in her heart for these four. “Like taking a bath… vulnerable and personal, especially with the element of limited movement, but I’d imagine that any fear would wear off, if it ever existed.”

“O-Oh! Yeah! That makes sense!” Isabeau said. “If, uh…”

“If…?” Siffrin said.

“Nevermind!”

Gems, these two. Get a room. Actually, they all should, preferably at an inn. They needed to get moving.

“Well, I’d be interested in seeing how all of this works, but we did get held up a day or two. We should get moving as soon as we can,” Odile said.

“Yes ma’am,” Siffrin said. He started pitching in, helping others pack. After all, everything he owned was conveniently kept on that one body and its many hidden pockets and apparent crevices. One day, if they beat the curse, she’d find them all. Not today though.

————

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[ohwolfling]

Gale’s evil ending is out on Youtube now! How do you feel about it and is there any analysis to it?

[goes to YouTube because I have Toy Story disease and know I will never do this myself]

Ooooh boy. The thing is, this is an RPG. If you played the game in such a way that Gale would get here, alright. I don’t wish to yuck anyone’s yum. But for me this feels nigh on impossible. 

-please not, I have not slept right in like a month, this is not as polished as I usually try to make my asks/meta-

Gale at his very worst wants to be worshiped, adored, and praised. He wants to be equal to gods because it’s gods who have made playthings of the little guys. I don’t think that this kind of submission would satisfy Gale, nor do I think that Gale is someone who does direct violence on purpose, even on his worst days. 

Choice One 

As for destroying the heavens, I don’t know, Gale seems aware that being a Chosen is a curse regardless of who the god is and I don’t see Gale focusing his ire on throwing his testament to Mystra and having a crowd beat up a Mystra statue that came from I am not sure where? Sort of echoes my sentiments that while BG3 is some of the best and most varied representation of abuse and trauma on personal and systemic levels I’ve ever seen, it still has it’s little flaws, both because of its commitment at times to DnD lore and the fact that I don’t think that survivors/advocates/educators were consulted so much as we got lucky. I’ve talked about this mostly in regards to how the narrative fails Wyll (not because Wyll should be more important than other companions because he’s literally from Baldur’s Gate, an argument that is just… so dumb, your hearts are in the right place but jfc). 

Choice Two 

I just don’t believe in any version of Gale that wants to lead an army. It made me laugh honestly. 

Choice Three

ILLUSION MAGIC, CONTENTMENT, LOVE (djinn, careful what you wish for, etc, so there’s like… existing lore and stuff for this in the greater pantheon of storytelling)... This one had such potential. Disappears immediately, however.

Does he need a big statue of himself? What is that meant to communicate? I don’t get this. Gale likes pretty things and this world is still hideous for himself. God Gale shows us that Gale’s “Bad” ending is leaning into aesthetics and power-posturing. This is… just not in character to me under any circumstances.

Choice Four

Killing everybody is just plain mean. Gale needs something to gaslight himself about. Frankly, this is too simple for the kind of mental illness this man holds within him. The line says, “this is mercy” but nothing around it actually implies that. Actually kinda pisses me off. A thing doesn’t need to look menacing to be evil and I expect Larian to know better. A power move here would’ve been Gale finding he still feels hopeless after all this and detonating himself against even the Orb’s will! 

Choice Five

Gale could never wish for chaos to rule. He would get IBS. I also don’t think “people are inherently bad” is a Gale thing. That might vibe with Shadowheart and Astarion before their healing journeys or if you play them that way, but even then there’s so much foundational wounding that gets them there. This is just… lol ok. Gale very clearly loves children, at least in the sense that he wants to protect them. If there’s an evil Gale who would turn a child into a little killer, it would be against an abuser of some kind, not a mother protecting them.

Generally,

Let him kill Mystra and have chaos ensue that way, cowards. 

A Gale who would control or limit you would do so leading with pleasure, not cruelty (maybe some Willow erasing Tara’s memories vibes) and even where they did play with this they ultimately failed. It doesn’t serve Gale in any way to create illusory magic for big statue. Some of the language around some of the choices feels… very insecure masculinity? And I don’t particularly associate that with Gale. His problems with Mystra are not based in not feeling like A Man™, but in not feeling enough as Merely A Mortal Man™. That’s a reading that people falsely make of Gale of Waterdeep™ throughout the game, which is good world building and makes sense, as he is a renowned wizard, was a child prodigy, and is a known paramor and Chosen of Mystra. That’s the social dig at his facade. Gale Dekarios, however, doesn’t demonstrate any issues in that flavor?

If you’ve played Gale as a man constantly on the cusp of evil, you may have an insight to this that I don’t. But for me, even where things feel somewhat possible, it’s giving Daenerys burns down King’s Landing because we forgot to write her for four seasons in the middle and are bored now. Which is to say that GRRM has a few books left to make Daenerys accelerate herself and could do it in a way that is beautiful and breaks my heart but that ain’t what happened here today, ya know? 

This is an observation no one asked for but I think part of the perfect storm that led to SO MUCH additional Astarion content (the obvious being casual hornies + Neil Newbon being as accommodating as he is passionate [affectionate][complimentary][in awe]) is that the default setting for how Larian Studios views evil, struggle, grief, trauma, abuse, etc is in these very flashy, edgy tropes of Hurt People Hurt People being very literal. And that is a genuine and beautiful load-bearing wall of Astarion’s belief system. But Hurt People Hurt People doesn’t apply to Gale, at least not in that way. Gale tries every other thing possible before he comes up with the idea to restore elements of the Weave to Mystra through relics and such. And when he gets the orb, he’s moving to be sure his own inevitable detonation doesn’t hurt anyone. Gale’s entire story is about the risk of reaching out, of trying to connect, you literally pull him out of a hole of unstable magic.

As a note - Nothing I say here is too critical of Larian studios. For me personally, multiple endings of the same flavor are not what fuels replayability but for most people who simply play this game and do not examine it as a piece of literature or find community around the discussion of it, it does. Studios are a business and they’ve been through it working on this with WotC/DnD. I totally get it. But I’d really rather more in world characterization than additional endings. 

[dflogerzi]

I came back this evening to say something. Maybe two things.

I have no idea where I am going with this. But will be going somewhere. It sort of began this morning... I felt so weary reading the latest stories about Catherine. Not from the uplifting ones, but the others in what has become a past month of constant conflicts. Ugh. I am feeling so protective... like please, leave her alone now. She is going to go through a difficult treatment that will tire her, rob her immune system, and the need to follow it closely to heal. She also needs time to spend with three young children, the youngest of which is barely school age.

It is heartbreaking. Now for what else is really bugging me. Through these days I have seen things posted here by friends sharing, that were written by Meghan's followers that have been so unbelievable... I cannot even go there. And go there I never do on my own. I do not care what sugars are writing. They are writing as they do. I just stick to my own sense of integrity and side of the street. My breaking point was however, in learning just this afternoon about the Baroness Bruck account. I had no idea. I do have an account on Twitter that I very seldom go to, but I went over and sure enough... I had followed this person back in the older times.

I unfollowed. But not until after I read a few tweets to be certain. And one especially just took my breath totally away. I find myself feeling very down. The ugly is more than anyone should endure who has done nothing but serve with loyalty, grace, and kindness. I just want Catherine to take the time she needs however long, and I may need a little bit of a break myself.

This is a place I come to visit, sometimes to romp, occasionally to vent. I learn things here, share when I can, and get away for a small measure of time from the other worries of the world. I appreciate each person in this community, even when we differ on the subjects we share in common. It means a lot to me.

Okay. What a mess of a ramble. I am not going anywhere. I understand that I am in this until the end of the story. Whatever that is.

Guess I will publish. Hope I feel better afterwards.

[brucewaynehater101]

The brainrot is hitting hard today…

On the topic of the Drakes, I usually prefer the unconventional but loving parent type (Bruce x the Drakes is my favorite rarepair) but the idea of a de-aged Toddler Tim having no idea what to do when Jason or another Bat does the “ur a baby I’m gonna pick you up” move because his parents stopped picking him up once he started walking is so heartbreakingly wonderful to me.

even with de-aged Tim fics in general, i prefer when he’s a feral raccoon, but just that specific scene is so addicting.

a whole fic exploring the personality of a three-year-old Tim with limited parental context and his dynamics with Jason in particular is mwah.

and then a week later, he’s deaged again but as a 6-year-old and the family has to deal with a brat with too much time on his hands and too little supervision.

3-year-old tim as a victim of neglectful, bordering abusive, parenting

6-year-old tim as a consequence of neglectful, bordering abusive, parenting

also, bonus if 3 y/o Tim just cam saw the graysons fall and only recognizes Dick after Nightwing does something flippy. “Flippy Dick” being his first words since deaging (i think i saw the nickname in a good parents!drakes post ironically)

Yes! I do adore the angst of the Drakes loving Tim, wanting the world for him, and failing. The black and white "Drakes are bad parents" is great for healing and comfort, but the grey area is where I feel a lot of people are with their own parents. The Drakes trying but never being enough is so intoxicating to read. There's usually only bad parents and good parents for the Drakes.

I also love when the Drakes and Bruce share parenting Tim while the kid fights that at every turn. It's hilarious.

For Kid Tim fics, I can't really stand when he's turned into a "so cute but so sad" version. That child is a gremlin. Therefore, I love when authors hint at angst/abuse, but Tim doesn't realize that something is wrong. For him, that's normal. Why would he know the difference?

The nickname "Flippy Dick/Dickie" is cute and I adore a chaotic 6 year old Tim. A lack of supervision for children (who have issues with impulse control due to their brain development) equates to Tim doing whatever the fuck he wants and not respecting authority. He gets to make decisions for himself because that's how it's always been.

On the same note, fics that have Bruce noticing Tim's lack of supervision and then forcing restrictions on Tim freak me out. Yes, a child should not be making such decisions and should not be alone at such ages. However, Tim, in these AUs, has years of experience doing so. Forcing him to follow Bruce's rules without choice disrespects the systems Tim has built up to protect himself. He should have continued autonomy. The goal is to support him. They should allow Tim to slowly integrate himself into the Wayne family as someone ensures he's getting food regularly, has an adult to rely on, and has all his needs met (however Tim chooses to meet them).

If Tim chooses to relinquish his control over every aspect in his life for some help and relief, then absolutely. Despite this, Tim will need to be treated as closer to an equal than a child due to his experiences. He is still a child, but he's been making choices for himself for a while. He should have the respect and autonomy to continue making decisions in regard to his own being.

I guess I got on a rant, lmao. Anyways, de-aging fics that highlight Tim not being able to hide his chaotic nature as well are amazing

[jazzyblusnowflake]

Hello there :"3

Small health update i should write here too.

for those of you who know from instagram i have had my meds recently changed in hopes of giving me more energy which instead wrecked my nervous system and caused alot of damage.

first ofc i have to apologize for my absence and that theres something new with me every time that yall have to deal with every once in a while but thankyou for going through this healing journey with me as i get better... or deteriorate XD

now then, i need to write here that first of all, im getting better from the initial damage and severe continuous panic/anxiety attacks the pills caused and the headaches from crying has subsided, however i think im still going to need another day or two to get the effects out of my system fully, but im going to need to go back to taking depressants again sadly. my hands are still shaking and i need to constantly distract myself due to cortizol levels still not fully decreased.

my stomach and intestines are royally destroyed and my IBS has been killing me- and more things that i need to continuously take painkillers for [3 diff types of painkillers today alone at different hours and this is me feeling BETTER. ] it also does not help that i cannot eat or drink because im nauseous but i know if i dont ill get even more nauseous... sigh.

my doctor told me to go back to my old meds to see if ill feel better again and if not she will give me another appointment.

i do not wish this experience on anyone...

anyway PLEASE DO NOT REACH OUT TO ME-

i appreciate the well wishes truely but it only increases the anxiety if too many people are messaging me at once, i just needed to post this for people to know why im inactive.

so this has been an update on my health and ill be doodling stuff and writing fics so i could finish them and post them soon :"3 and yeah i know i say that alot but i swear im trying XD

hope yall have a good day 🌸

[aventurineswife]

HI HI! I hope you are having a good day/night 💞

I wanted to know your opinion on this:

Like, i been seen a lot of people saying that he should go to therapy, or even go to couple therapy with him. But, since everyobody doesn't want to go to therapy, or when they go, they don't feel still right, or even can get worse. I think he would find another way to heal, one that truly makes him feel safe and comfortable.(SORRY I CAN SEE AVEN IN THERAPY FOR THE MOMENT.)

In my experience, i meet a lot of people that feels more comfortable telling problems to family, friends, or find comfort in some hyperfixation, or be on their own worlds. IDK WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS.

We love you Aven's wife. If you can, please, don't dissappear and became dust.

In my opinion, I think it's entirely valid to think that Aventurine wouldn't find traditional therapy appealing, at least not immediately. His character is deeply rooted in self-reliance and distrust, shaped by a lifetime of betrayal and survival through his own cunning. Therapy, which requires vulnerability and trust, might feel like too much of a gamble for someone like him. Instead, his path to healing could align with the following methods:

Aventurine might find solace in close, meaningful relationships with people who slowly earn his trust. Sharing his burdens with someone who understands his complexities—like a friend or a partner—could serve as his version of therapy. These connections might help him confront his trauma without feeling exposed or judged.

Aventurine's love for gambling and strategizing could act as a coping mechanism and, eventually, a tool for healing. For instance, he might channel his need for control and calculation into something constructive, like designing elaborate strategies to help others, which also gives him a sense of purpose.

Aventurine may benefit from moments of isolation where he can process his emotions without external pressures. He might find clarity in journaling, planning, or even something symbolic, like playing solitary games of chance to reflect on his decisions and fears.

Aventurine thrives in situations where he feels in control, so his healing journey could involve taking action to help others or dismantle systems of cruelty. By addressing the larger injustices that mirror his own trauma, he could begin to reconcile with his past.

Aventurine might find joy and comfort in lavishing his partner with gifts, experiences, or acts of service, using his flair to express love and distract himself from his inner struggles. This could be his therapeutic way of coping—showing care outwardly to feel a sense of connection and purpose.

However, if his partner refuses these gestures or encourages him to focus on his own healing, it might force him to confront his avoidance tactics. Over time, this could lead Aventurine to realize that true healing requires addressing his own pain rather than masking it with grand displays.

And that's pretty much it, I hope this explains it well. Remember this is my opinion but I'd love to see others opinions on it too🤗💖

Also, I'll try not to become one bite from the dust 🕴️ and love you guys too!! 🤗🫂💖🥺

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 62

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

The previous chapter art was removed 4/30/2024, but as of 9/2/2024, Mikey thinks it's pretty cool that we got a new one by @unknownfanartist

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: cast removal, crutches, muscle weakness, general injury recovery

Getting your cast off should have made you happy.

It should have come with a sense of relief. The thing had yellowed with age and stunk to high heaven, but you were numb as the many little saws buzzed around you. You only watched listlessly as bits of fiberglass shattered and nicked the doctor’s mask. You should have some anxiety, you thought. You should be worried that their hand might not be as steady as you’d hoped and they might dip and slice your skin.

You felt nothing.

You only stared on as you were helped out and you saw your legs for the first time.

Pruned from trapped moisture, somehow flaking, and a sickly color, they did not look like your own.

Words pelted you next and you heard them vaguely.

There was a new schedule.

New aftercare.

More healing.

You would never be done healing.

Your body would always be different.

These legs were not your own.

You couldn’t stand without an aid.

Donnie was everything.

After the incident with Leo, he went above and beyond where he’d already stepped up. He cut the others out of the support system. They were still there, the backup they needed to be for him, but Donnie decided in seeing your tears that he was the only one made to aid you. He moved around attentively, pampering you and getting everything you needed. He shifted his focus away from himself and helped however he could with your physical therapy.

You hadn’t told him what happened to Leo.

A piece of you had been extinguished in the exchange, not that you completely understood why.

Something was fundamentally wrong with the picture and the only element out of place was you.

Leo was right, you’d come in and changed something about their dynamic. You had tentatively seen it as good, but in practice you weren’t as sure anymore. You’d been reassured from countless sources, but it all seemed for not after being told point blank that you had upset the status quo and nothing could be put back. You had two happy years with the man you loved, but there was irreparable damage. 

It manifested in your mate in a very real way.

He could no longer act.

The feelings he once pushed away as unnecessary were now a threat to him and everyone around.

You’d robbed him of his joy.

The one he’d found after such an agonizing journey.

You hated it.

You hated every moment he came near.

You hated every little look he gave you, checking in to see if it had been the right one.

You hated how every time, he’d smother even that reaction.

He was a shell. 

He was unsure. 

You were the same.

Then, there was Leo.

After the incident, he had taken a five day sabbatical where on rotation you learned from both Raph and Mikey that he only left the gym when it wasn’t open. He worked himself out until his body gave out and the tiny owner had called Raph away on day three to pick up the passed out husk of his brother. They had their own med bay you learned. Leo slept the last two days and drained multiple IV bags.

When he returned, he was a shadow of his former self.

There were no words left to barb and he parted no attention. Lucinda even greeted him and he only looked away. She’d wanted to ask, you saw it in her eyes, but you held the same empty look.

She’d said nothing and for the last week and a half in your cast, the apartment was trapped in haunting silence.

“It’ll be a wheelchair ride to the car.” A nurse told you.

You only nodded.

Donnie was beside you and you leaned against him.

Despite everything, he was still a comfort.

His hand settled on your shoulder and eventually your chariot approached.

Both in the form of Donnie’s car and a mobilized chair, you stared at your legs all the way.

They moved around you as you were helped into the car.

They sat uselessly in front of you.

You didn’t dare touch them in the ride over.

Crutches took your attention and you headed for the elevator.

You could hear Donnie thinking about getting another apartment.

Stairs got in the way. 

Raph was somewhere.

You vaguely saw him already on your floor when you exited the metal box.

A coordinated clinking took you to your door.

You entered and made it far enough to the partition between the living and bedroom before you stopped.

Donnie and Raph spoke something paltry to each other.

You needed to wash up.

You still stank.

You assumed that’s why the other two had kept their distance.

Raph exceeded the elevator weight limit.

You knew that.

You didn’t care about facts.

Donnie appeared in what you figured was a creep.

You only passed him a glance before finally heading towards the bathroom.

He wandered after.

Had you snapped at him?

You could barely recall.

You thought you should have.

He was around too much, wasn’t he?

He was always there.

He was your blight like the other turtles were to him.

A hovering avatar of your failings.

You felt a few tears loose down your cheeks.

You didn’t think that.

You were free of your cast.

You should have been happy.

Not bitter.

You quaked to a halt just in the bathroom’s entrance.

Donnie was behind you.

“Stay with me…?” You begged him through a sob.

He said nothing and only appeared nodding in your vision.

A bath.

You were supposed to take a bath.

You needed to ease into these legs.

Muscle loss.

Breakdown.

Physical therapy.

Endless.

A spray turned on and you collapsed onto the seat of the toilet, letting your crutches go. Donnie caught them and shut the door properly before kneeling down in front of you. Words would need to be spared now, you thought, but you could only stare at him with what you could feel were soulless eyes.

He took them in with a glance that might have broken into sadness if this were any other world. In your current reality, his own shifted to a similar empty state as that was what was required. As the water warmed up, you were stripped. Not speaking made it more difficult, but you relied on your memory of how to move together.

The movement of Donnie’s beak said a lot.

Now in an especially enclosed space he was trapped with your wretched scent. You smelled it too, but you’d been locked into it for so long it lingered like the rot of your soul. The sink and wash cloths had only ever done so much.

You wanted to be boiled.

You wanted to scrub until there was nothing left.

You’d swirl and go straight down the drain and out of sight.

Your ass hit the cold porcelain and for the first time in over two months you felt something other than musty gauze there. It knocked you out of your stupor where Donnie was stripping without pretense. You didn’t watch him and instead reached through the curtain to touch the stream. It was sufficiently hot and you made a grab for the sink to pull yourself up. Donnie caught your wrist before you could and you sent the barest form of ire up at him.

He took it with the faintest crack of affection in his gaze.

It was something and your heart clenched.

How long had it been since he let something leak?

Not long, you knew.

A week or so at most.

You’d been downplaying them.

Each time he tried a little harder you’d lumped it into an anomaly pile.

You were in a constant state of twisting what you saw to your own view.

You were the numb one and Donnie was curtailing himself to you. 

There was more there, in the way Donnie led you to the curtain. He had your weight, but at the same time you had full control. He was there if you fell, but otherwise you were the dancer that instructed. He, your studious partner, waited as you pulled back the shower curtain and he hopped you up the little step. The warm water splashed your toes and you yearned to bury into the spray. A stepwise process still necessary, you waited for Donnie to follow behind and close the curtain before you moved.

Showers washed away so much. 

You felt not just the grime slipping away, but the sludge attached to your soul. It schlepped off in layers and you watched it metaphorically spin out and disappear down the hole that you thought you might too. Looking now, it was too small and nowhere near enough to encapsulate you. You felt your partner’s grip switch. 

With one hand firm on your waist, the other ghosted over your arm. A move he’d done dozens of times, it was both your ways of recuperating with your partner. He drew strength from you in swipes and soon the lopsided display rotated you like a boat with one oar. Turned to face him with the spray at your back, you thought this was a sign. You started with flat hands over his wet plastron. A smooth glide, you withheld your features as you drifted up to his shoulders. You found him there, watching you with metered affection that you spied as more cracks. Wary of them, you had enough wherewithal to send him a worried look which he took in kind as a palm cascaded down to your hip.

His veneer split. Stroking along his shoulder blades, you grabbed the bulb of his shoulder just in time for a gooey expression to form on his face. Tinged with longing, it swirled as he opened up and you saw a gleam in his pupil. All looks reserved for his precious mate, you leaned into him though you couldn’t safely arch your back. It meant mostly a tip of your body without joints, but it still drew you closer to him.

“I love you.” He spoke without holding back.

Your entire being squeezed.

“I love you so much.” He cast the spell anew and brushed dripping water from your chin.

“Donnie…” You murmured and wanted to wrap him up.

You had the leverage, but there were so many threats. One slip would spell more injuries, but you wanted to launch yourself at him. You wanted to drape around him and tell him you alone could keep his ninpo from spawning. A theory already proven to be ineffective, you didn’t care. You would try harder. You had further mobility now and your mate needed you. You decided you could find a way; you could always find a way.

“Y/N.” He nosed over your shoulder as he reached behind you.

Washing, you were supposed to be washing up, but you could only choke on a sob. “I missed you so much.”

When he reappeared as a gelatinized version of himself, you could still see the upturned corners of his lips. “Tell me?”

You heard a cap pop and could mentally see him applying soap to a loofa in a silky drove. “Tell you what?”

“How much…?” He stalled with a press of suds to your shoulder and a wet look.

You knew his suffering was equal to yours, only different.

In that moment, in its current presentation, it seemed new.

He looked youthful and lonely.

He looked as though he’d been punished unjustly.

He was sat in a corner for a crime he didn’t commit. 

He needed care.

He needed reassurance.

You drifted up his neck and to his jaw. “I miss you constantly. I’ve been miserable. You’re right there, but you’re not. I get pieces of you and that’s never going to be enough. Not when I’ve had the whole thing…”

“Whole thing…” He scolded and his lips warbled as he tried to divert attention into scrubbing your back. “Watching you deepen into your withdrawal has been…”

You shuffled a little closer to him and he slid his steadying hand more securely around you.

“It’s torture.” He rotated you out of the spray so he could reach more of you. “You need so much more of me than I can offer. I attend to all your physicalities, but the emotional aspect…!” He choked and shifted away to wash your arms. “To know that I no longer have the facilities to be a proper partner…”

“You’re wrong.” You pulled his chin so he was forced to look at you. “You’ve done so much. Do you know how many people can’t step up when their significant other gets sick? Truly sick, truly injured!”

He scoffed. “I would attend to you for multiple lifetimes.”

You helped move his hand so he could wash your chest. “Not even want, I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

Donnie slowed as if that was a revelation and looked at you with tempered hope.

“Silly.” You moved to wipe his eyes and he delicately closed his lids so you could brush over them. “You know that.”

“Time and time again my warning that grievous harm will come to you as long as you stay by my side comes to fruition, you should not-”

You pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

He searched you in an attempt to break your resolve.

You brushed your digit side by side until he pressed a slight kiss into it. “Do you think what happened is actually your fault?”

You moved your finger away and he spoke immediately. “No.”

“Not that you allowed us to get drugged and taken?” You squeezed the words for what they were worth to translate your own feelings on the matter.

“I had every precaution in place, but there are gaps that cannot be accounted for-”

“Do you blame yourself for that?”

His pupils slowed and he dove into yours to scrounge up every bit of your meaning. “No…”

“Do you know how much growth that is?” You couldn’t help but smile.

He sneered lightly, but there was an obvious raise to his spirits.

You hugged into him and felt the little bubbles of soap pop between you.

He stood still as if to immortalize your affection before he moved to return it. “Do you hear yourself? You are celebrating that I am not performing self-flagellation over nearly losing you.”

“You see it too though, don’t you?” You turned your head and rested it against his plastron.

He squeezed you tighter instead of responding.

“I’m still here.”

“Don’t go.” He forced out.

“I’m right here.” You pulled away to look at him.

He came right down and his arm dipped, holding you upright around your thighs. “Y/N, please, there cannot be a repeat of this.”

“There won’t.”

“We’ll never go to the Hidden City again.”

“We won’t.”

“You’ll stay.”

“Donnie.”

“Stay with me.” You saw obvious tears prick the corner of his eyes. “Please, please, please… Don’t… Don’t ever…!”

“I won’t go.” It took a little too much movement, but you finally slotted your arms around his head. “You’re stuck with me.”

He tried to squeeze in another ‘please,’ but he interrupted himself as he kissed you.

You returned it, but felt the distinct lack of heat.

It was a reassurance and you poured all of yourself into it.

He broke it out of a smile that burst forth between you.

“L-let’s…”

You pecked across him as an encouragement.

“Get you cleaned up.” He decided and swallowed thickly.

You moved away as much as his hold allowed and he was methodically washing you. Running between foam and rinses, you had enough strength to scrub his plastron, but anything further that required a bend proved to be too difficult. He cared little and openly ate up the attention. You leaned into it, feeling slight guilt over denying him more, but you reminded yourself that this was unavoidable on both your parts. Donnie had to keep his emotions in check and you had to recover which was annoyingly no alive person’s fault.

Finishing your proper shower under Donnie’s steady grip, you then languished in letting the spray run directly over your face when you felt your boyfriend nose your mating mark playfully. You turned slightly, moving out of the shower’s line and he followed with pressed kisses there.

 “Donnie…?” As far as you knew, this was part of the unspoken territory that couldn’t be crossed.

“Won’t break skin. No more injuries of any kind.” He let the water rinse the spot before mouthing over. “Still… Want to renew so badly.”

“Please…” You folded an arm around you to reach him.

He slid his fingers into yours with his free hand and the other supporting you shifted so he could give one of your butt cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Donnie!”

“Part of you kept from me.” He gave a testy little growl.

You leaned away in a turn to kiss him.

He ignored you and instead put on a show of opening up his mouth. His teeth gleamed a ferocious row and he angled them with a panting desire to sink them into your shoulder.

“Please…” You repeated much quieter.

“You’re mine.” A heat lingered against him and he lost sharp will as his maw came down.

His sharpened canines pricked the most, but he bit without breaking skin. “All yours.”

His hold shifted to wrap around your belly and he metered different pressures.

While there was a certain sexual edge to the move, it spoke more of a hunger.

Of things he’d been denied.

Things he couldn’t have.

All that he wanted.

He wrapped it in a nibble as his starvation would go on.

He could only have a taste and he released with a few little licks over the reddened skin.

“I love you.” You told him.

“I love you.” He nuzzled into the side of your head and reached past you to shut the water off.

Before the cold could set in, you were hoisted up just like you were and protested with little bubbles of laughter as he swung you up and out of the tub. Landing on a soft mat, he pulled down a towel to wrap you up in and you were soon sat on the toilet again. Both to be dried and while he toweled himself off, he eventually came around with several bottles.

From getting your cast off you were told to moisturize heavily and Donnie started with a cream for that. Knelt in front of your legs like your knight, you saw he took pleasure in rubbing the lotion into your skin. Taking particular care both for its purpose and because your legs had been locked away for so long, your stems soon took on a shine both from the cream and from the worked up blood flow.

You twisted your toes through the shaking weakness from having been upright for so long, but for the first time since the cast removal, your lower body felt like your own.

Donnie procured another bottle, a new formulation of his muscle cream and added that on next. He’d concocted a slew of new products with computer screens alone and sent them off to be formulated and tested. All done with rush orders, you were soon inundated with all sorts of medicinal ointments. From salves to heal scars to potent oils that stimulated cell regeneration, you noticed there was some labeling that had Old Lady Nagami’s flare, but you didn’t bring attention to it.

You had mostly applied them yourself, but now you wished you’d deferred to Donnie. This could have been stolen moments of intimacy you both craved all along and you berated yourself for not allowing him that much. You only felt you’d taken enough so any little thing you could do yourself felt like a load off of him. He’d also stepped aside whenever possible to not subvert your independence. You adored him and as he finished up with a smile saying he had a job well done, he turned that up to you and all of that must have been plastered on your face.

From his knees he rose up to kiss you reassurances.

You lingered in them before mumbling against his lips. “Let me.”

“What? Anything.” He nosed you slightly.

You giggled at how quickly he complied. “You must be sore too.”

He came away with a furrowed brow ridge.

“Switch with me in your lap.”

He gave the idea a once over before a quick nod and lifted you right up. He then dutifully switched, sitting on the toilet lid and dropping you onto his thighs where he then fetched his cream from a drawer. He passed it over and you scooped a good handful out before pulling one of his arms close to work it into his aged scars.

Within a few strokes he immediately wilted around you like a drapery. You staved off laughing by chewing your lip and the faintest little churr cropped up that startled both of you.

Having both shot away, you shared a surprise stare before you were both tentatively slow moving back into place for fear you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. Taking much longer than the first as awareness was difficult to offset, the tiny vibration eventually picked up as you trended down to his forearms. Music to your ears, you languished in it and rubbed his wrist even though the cream was soaked into his muscles.

He was the one who grew tired of the imbalance and eventually broke to turn you around to reach his other arm. You cuddled close to him, repeating the process and eventually the churr he met you with was one you considered his norm. Overjoyed with his comfort, you felt lulled and your rub lost cohesion as he slid down to his hands.

“Sleep…” He managed around the rumble.

“You too?” You teased lightly.

“Who’s on duty…?”

You had to think about it. “Raph.”

“Yes.” It almost sounded like a cheer and he nuzzled into your neck.

“Why’s it okay with him?” Though you knew Raph distanced himself as best he could, he and Donnie interacted so little that you weren’t sure what their dynamic was like, even with all the weeks of him being around.

“He hesitates.” Donnie reluctantly lifted his head. “Avoids. If I had to take my pick…”

You nodded, not wanting to push the subject when you were both so comfortable.

Lifted back on jittery legs, your towel was adjusted and the door opened with a shift in humidity. Chilled by it, Donnie quickly wiped your crutches down and passed them off before you thunked over to get some pajamas in a perilous game of not letting your covers fall in the process.

“Raphael.” Donnie peered around the partition.

“I didn’t hear nothing!” Raph called from somewhere distant.

Grabbing comfy clothes, you thought you could place him squished right by the door. Of the three, he was the one that seemed the most out of place in your apartment. He tried to minimize himself as best he could and you often had to tell him to sit on the couch even though he long should have known it was available to him.

“Guilt over nothing.” Donnie let a certain disdain fill his voice. “Y/N is going to nap.”

There was a beat of silence as Raph parsed the meaning there. “Understood.”

“And sit down.” Donnie gave an annoyed command and then followed after where you waved a pair of sweats for him.

He took them with a kiss to your cheek and you could tell he was just fatigued enough to not put on his emotional block.

You sat on the bed to get dressed and once you were clad you fell back into the covers letting the many balms on your body swallow you up until Donnie’s voice broke through. “Get under.”

“Throw a blanket on top of me.” You groaned, not wanting to move.

He clicked his tongue, scolding, at you before hoisting you up to pull you under the blankets with him.

You wiggled as much as you could on weary hips to get close.

He tucked you both in and you watched each other until lids grew heavy enough to fall.

-

You weren’t totally sure, but it seemed like Donnie was trying to meditate. It was never particularly obvious, but he would clearly drift when his attention wasn’t on you. Different from his usual trains of thought, it left his features empty in a way that you thought illustrated his thoughts. When he was on the path of mental conquest, that fortitude showed up with a furrowed brow and narrowed gaze. Now, however, you often found him with loose features and a slightly unfocused gaze.

You’d meant to ask, but the first time you roused him from the state, he’d surfaced with a knife-sharp gaze that said it was not to be discussed in company.

Such company was thankfully Mikey at the time who hadn’t even noticed anything was off.

You imagined that was probably why Donnie chanced it. You were left to mull things over which meant you ran various simulations the best you could. It helped you place a few things in perspective since it wasn’t something up for debate. The first of which regarded the level of vulnerability. Donnie never chanced the lowered guard that came with meditating around Leo. He also rarely breached his emotional moat which made you think this had to do with his ninpo. All of which made sense when you thought of Raph.

The eldest had told you point blank that he honed in on ninpo frequencies by meditating and you had filled Donnie in on everything that had happened on your last unwilling trip to the lair. You might have been surprised your genius hadn’t thought of it sooner, but you imagined it had a lot to do with you. Meditation took time, as far as you understood, and a certain level of calm that you bet Donnie wasn’t capable of considering the circumstances you were both currently stuck with.

From your healing to the brothers constant vigil, Donnie had to hold tight to his sanity by any means. Now that the entire set of turtles had settled into this new sort of treaty they were forced into and you were out of your cast and nearing the end of your obvious healing, that meant Donnie could practice more sensitive exercises to get his ninpo under control. He didn’t chance it often, but you had seen him trying to drift in every way except for folding his legs up and assuming a Siddhasana.

The logistics were something you were ruminating when Leo stood up from where he was pretending not to monitor your sitting leg exercises.

The tenuous relationship between the two of you had stretched on, but in the last few weeks you could at least manage being in the same room together.

Donnie hovered closer regardless and it pained you that you still hadn’t been able to tell your boyfriend what had transpired.

Glancing first at Leo and then at a clock, it was two minutes until the hour which meant it was time for a change over. Leo passed Donnie a single nod to translate this before stepping away to make space for a portal behind the couch. The schedule dictated Mikey was next, so Leo sliced through and you expected the orange brother to pop out with his usual buoyant energy.

Instead Leo walked out only for Mikey to emerge with an angry figure that stomped all the way around to you.

With his hands folded on his hips, he held a height over you and a face that begged you to ask.

“You… okay?” You set your weight down and tried not to laugh at how silly he was being.

“No!” Mikey took his opening and was only careful in dropping down into the couch beside you so as not to jostle you. “I’m mad!”

“I can see that.” Your smile was only dimmed by a minor wince as you pulled your legs up onto the couch so you could turn to him. “Want to rant?”

“Finally! Yes!” Mikey threw his limbs out before he turned toward you to tuck into the details. “So I’m trying to do my daily meditation, right?”

You blinked to attention.

That was almost too apropos.

It was clear it struck your partner similarly as Donnie was still nearby and had lifted his head where he was once casually looking through something on his phone.

“What?” Mikey noticed your distraction with a crouch of his brow ridge. “Don’t tell me I don’t look like I meditate because that stereotype’s been beaten to death!”

“No, no… I was…” You waffled and tried not to look around the room. “Meditation helps… healing. You caught me off guard because I was thinking about it, but wasn’t sure if that was real or not.”

All of Mikey’s suspicions evaporated. “Oh-me-gosh! Yes! I’m not going to lie to you, there’s a bunch of misconceptions and finding actual thought out studies is both impossible and annoying, but there is good evidence for it, I swear!”

“Thought out… studies…?” You mouthed, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Yes! You can prove anything with a survey as long as you control who you ask! I immediately dump a study if I can’t find out-” He held up both hands ready to count. “-who ran it, what’s the goal, the poll, how many people were involved, and a breakdown of the demographics!”

You pressed your lip to a thin line and did everything in your power not to look at Donnie.

“Trust me, it’s a whole thing.” Mikey dropped his hands and shook his head.

“I guess… I didn’t realize you’d be so thorough.” You admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Yeah, well…” Mikey shrugged. “I’m on my own healing journey. You’re on yours and I’ve been long trying to stop pushing my beliefs on others if I can help it, but I am here if you have any questions.”

“Yeah… Maybe, but you were mad about something, weren’t you?”

“Yes!” Mikey threw his head up as if he could spout fire. “No matter what I did there was something! First, there was a gnat that kept trying to go up my nose, then Raph had this fuzzy thing stuck to his shell, but he was being such a pain about holding still because it tickled, then Dad thought, I don’t know, freaking 3pm smoothies during the same time I always meditate is a thing now!”

You watched Mikey’s rant fondly.

“Like that’s when his show is! He hasn’t drinken a smoothie in months and I’m supposed to believe that’s not a personal attack!?” Mikey looked at you as if you could sympathize.

Your life had been pretty planned out as of late and you didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter.” Mikey sighed deeply. “I never got to and now we’re here. What are you doing there?”

“Strengthening the legs.” You glanced down to the weights on the ground.

“I know a version of those bad boys all too well. They’re so small.” He nodded with a weight of knowledge.

“Yeah…” There were so many things you hadn’t been able to discuss and it seemed silly you’d never tried. “Leo said you did physical therapy?”

“Still do.” Mikey stretched out his arms for you to see. “Though they call it occupational therapy after a certain point. Don’t know the difference, but it feels pretty much the same.”

He did nothing to cover the golden cracks that split his skin and you chanced following a fissure with a finger.

Along the line there was no texture to it, almost as if the glow was an illusion.

“It’s mystic scarring.” Mikey explained. 

“Ah…” He’d offered so you thought you shouldn’t feel bad, but part of you wanted to apologize.

“Got it saving Leo.” He thought for a moment. “Not Donatello related.” He looked over his shoulder at Donnie. “No offense.”

Donnie barely bobbed with a shrug. “I’ll take only my appropriate credit.”

Mikey rolled his eyes back to you. “Almost got ripped to stardust, but Raph helped stabilize me. He’s got some scars too, but he never shows ‘em. I think he thinks I’ll think…” He had to stop and go over what he’d said and punctuated counting with wags of his fingers. “He doesn’t want me to feel guilty!”

You nodded lightly.

“Everyone lived.” Mikey nodded. “That’s what was important. Then it was all healing, kinda like you, but it’s always a thing which is its own thing and then the other injuries…” This time Mikey pointedly looked at Donnie. “Full offense.”

Donnie gave a malicious sweeping bow with an arm.

Mikey sneered his cut lip before returning to you. “So my healing’s always ongoing.”

You tapped your leg.

“Ask.” He urged you with a knowing cock of his brow ridge.

“What?” You hadn’t thought of anything in particular.

“You were on the receiving end. Someone-!” Mikey didn’t look this time, but it was obvious he was again directing his attention toward Donnie. “-is in a less hateful mood so I think we’re safe to touch on more sensitive stuff: don’t you want to ask about the healing spell?”

You watched him before the nebulous thoughts converged for you. “Why… haven’t you healed yourself?”

Mikey gave a single sharp nod that said that was what he was looking for before he sank back into the couch. “I’m not schooled like Lee. He’s got human medical training where mine is mystic, but let’s say that was schooling and I got heavy into self teaching after having my face split open.”

You saw Donnie move slightly out of the corner of your eye, but this time Mikey let him be.

“It’s called Anosmia: the whole no taste, no smell thing. The attack severed not only my brain nerves attached to the old nose bulb, but also different nerves in my brain for other stuff. I’m not big on getting into it because it’s all kind of boring.” He flapped a dismissive hand. “Leo mentioned he explained the healing I did to you?”

You gave a single nod, not wanting to interrupt.

Mikey passed you an appreciative smile for it. “The smaller the parts, the harder they are to connect and you can imagine how small neurons are. That meant trying to reconnect the brain bits was not only the toughest, but also had the highest chance of something going wrong. You miss a connection or hook up the wrong parts? You might not be able to wiggle your toes ever again or forget you even had them to begin with!” He grew quiet and narrowed his gaze. “Thing is, I’d already been there, done that with the whole life changing injury so when I had to do it a second time around…”

You waited.

“I knew more.” Mikey tipped with an anticlimactic lean to his body. “I knew there was a lot that medicine or mysticism couldn’t obviously do and I’d already gone down the rabbit hole of self improvement. If it exists, I’ve tried it. If it can help, you can bet I’m into it. I’ve got opinions on everything!”

You always admired how steadfast Mikey was, even if it came as a detriment to him and those around.

Mikey leaned in even though you knew it wouldn’t offset Donnie’s hearing. “Wanna know my goal?”

“Of course.”

“I think I can fix it.” He bobbed his brow ridge before tossing himself back into the couch.

“Fix…?”

“Regain my sense of smell and taste.” Mikey gestured lazily to his face.

“Is that… possible?”

Mikey smiled out to the living room. “Weirder things have happened and you can train neurons. Everyone else in my family has written it off, but I don’t know… I’ll keep trying. I’ll take the health nut whacko label and own it and one day I’ll be able to smell freshly baked cookies again.”

He was so staunch you believed he could do it and shared that with a smile.

Mikey returned it. “Wanna meditate? It’s pretty quiet here. You can see how it makes you feel and I can give you tips if you wanna keep going.”

That was almost too easy.

For a moment, you felt like Mikey did know about Donnie.

He’d noticed and all this was a farce.

Except, Mikey was still looking at you with nothing but patient eyes.

You also felt as though those eyes held a nefarious purpose.

“Yeah…” He spoke a little too knowingly.

You bristled ever so slightly.

“It’s boring so I get if not. I kinda just wanted to get my dang session in though!” He chuckled with obvious guilt. “Plus it’ll help me with being bugged out and all.”

He had the terrible power of disarming those around him too quickly. “You seem alright now.”

“I’m chill, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool, you know?”

You stared for a moment. “I really don’t.”

“Huh…” His pupils darted as he thought back over what he said. “Yeah, I have no idea what I meant.”

You shook your head.

Between the similarities to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to this evil edge every single turtle man had, your perception of all of them was always warped and compared to Donnie.

“Fuck it.” You came away needing very much to stop judging this lot and treat them like the new individuals they really were to you. “Let’s meditate.”

“Yeah!” Mikey held out a high five that you took.

You wiggled in preparation of sitting cross legged.

“No, no, no.” Mikey laughed and held out a hand to stop you. “None of that… Or I mean, unless you want to.”

“I don’t think I can…” You admitted.

“Right, beginner…” He obviously put himself into a new mindset as if swapping clothes. “Okay, here’s the deal: forget everything you know about meditation. There’s no talking; I’m not into guided meditation because the voices get so annoying when I’m trying to chill. There’s no real pose to get into it; just vibe however you want. It’s boring; it’s so freaking boring. When I started, way, way back when dad taught us as kids, I felt like I would explode. Meditation and ADHD are a nightmare combo, but I’ve learned to make it work, but what works for me isn’t necessarily going to work for you, make sense?”

You took a moment to sift through everything he’d said. “Not… really…?”

“Yeah…” Mikey had a look that said he agreed.

You gave him a more abysmal stare.

“Never was good at explaining!!” Mikey tittered before he thought hard. “I guess what I’m trying to say is: use this first session to just… relax.”

You watched as he looked at you with mirth.

“Your biggest goal is to not fall asleep at first, but basically don’t punish yourself. This is all about calming down and getting in touch with your body. For me, my mind always wanders so I have to focus. I do a whole thing where I check in with myself. I start with the top of my head and “feel” down each part of my body slowly to help keep myself focused. You might think of things you need to do or… anything, and that’s fine, but it can stress some people out. You mostly just want to be… okay with being with yourself. The calm comes with that.”

Again taking a moment to think, this time you were slow to nod your head. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a bit.

“How do you sit?”

“Up!” Mikey shifted until his posture was straight and he relaxed. “I also do eyes closed, but some people start eyes open and then drift close.”

“There’s no wrong way I’m hearing.” You jeered lightly, getting into a similar position as him.

He started to close his eyes, but craned one open to watch you. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You giggled.

“I’ll count us down and then just… float.”

You settled and took a deep breath before a thought caught you. “Do you ever…float away? For real?”

“Yes.” In his profile you saw his grin split his face. “I’ve come to many times having left the ground.”

“ Sounds like enlightenment.” You pretended to be in awe.

A laugh caught him and he had to sigh back into position. “Not a chance. I also sometimes wake up from just sleeping flying which is such a pain.”

You wanted to ask more about that, but you resigned yourself to the exercise.

“Alright.” Mikey’s voice took on a calm. “There’s no time limit so just whenever you’re feeling over it, we can stop. I think like ten to fifteen is good, but hey, do you.” He inhaled long and slow. “Return to yourself.”

You unconsciously breathed in time.

“And be.” He exhaled slowly and you followed suit.

For a moment, you waited for something to happen even though you knew nothing would.

Then something about having to sit in silence struck you. You wondered if there was space for music or if the guided meditation was something you’d prefer. Currently, you felt like you were in a sort of limbo and wished he had started a timer.

Then you thought about what Mikey did.

Starting from the top of your head, you focused all your energy there and something about it reminded you of Donnie’s battle shell. Finding purpose in that idea, you slid down your head, shifting through your brows and eyes and thought of the shell’s arms gently tapping each zone. The metallic arms whirled in your ears as a memory and you let them drift along your lobes and through to your neck. There the pair split apart and cascaded down each shoulder.

One gave a little extra squeeze to where the tissue had healed on your left side. It was slightly numb to the touch, but always felt dense when you tried to lift the limb. Now, instead, the arms locked around your arms and gently rolled their grip down. Testing your flesh in little squeezes, it got to your fingertips and switched to your legs.

Those appendages were ones that you had been in a steady process of getting back under your control. It translated to your imaginary mech caressing you gently in a way that reminded you of Donnie’s massages. You were on a nightly rotation of receiving them and if you could manage, you returned the favor. It was exactly the little buoyancy you had thought the two of you needed and could easily be done in the privacy of the bathroom with only the faintest judgment from whatever turtle on duty.

Donnie.

Reaching your toes, you realized you’d forgotten about him.

Having momentarily gotten lost in your imagination, you cracked your eyes to find your vision blurry.

Something like coming out of sleep, you felt subdued and lingered in focus returning.

It came like a gentle current and with it you remembered that part of you had meant to use this time to siphon information so Donnie could get help in his meditation. If that were what he was doing, you also realized that he could just listen along meaning you had already done your part. Blinking off the last vestiges of peace, you turned your head slowly to first glimpse Mikey’s calm face. The picture of zen, you no longer saw the flecks of irritation that were now obviously gone from the man’s expression. Happy he’d gotten his, you looked past him and felt awe wash over you as you saw Donnie over by his computer.

Standing, but just seated on the edge of his computer desk, Donnie’s eyes were closed. His posture was closed off, but there was an air to him that was accentuated by the sleepy monitor glow behind him. With his arms folded in a loose hold, the tip of his body said one of his legs was kicked over the other which made him reclined. There were then his features, a similar slack to how you’d been catching them except there was a honed edge to it. Nothing that wrinkled the muscles in his face, you instead watched his pupils dart under his closed lids as if he was watching something get typed out. Staring in order to catch the exact movement, you found it wasn’t a side to side, but instead an indistinct roll as if many parts were being put in place.

Building.

You weren’t sure why, but you had the distinct thought that he was building something in there.

One little piece at a time, you imagined he’d taken care in laying out even the smallest screw before beginning the construction process.

This could work.

Another patently intrusive thought, you were sure that if Donnie kept this up then he’d find some relief from his ninpo.

You were flooded with pride.

Almost as soothing as the meditation itself, you took another dreamy stance, but this time in watching your partner. Curling up against the back of the sofa, you stared as he continued to run through his schematics. They detailed out like your feelings for him and all you could think of was how lucky you were to have him in your life. No matter how much strife it had come with, every moment with him was a precious one and it was in that headspace that Mikey came to.

His tongue darted in a roll of his jaw as if he too had awoken from a nap. Sucking saliva and rinsing with a swallow, Mikey stayed mostly silent as he adjusted his vision for your apartment. He looked straight in front of him, remembering where he was before he took great care in sneaking a look at you, an obvious case of not wanting to disturb you if you were still meditating.

He found you awake, but you held a finger to your lips.

The wrinkling of his gaze said he knew exactly what you were referring to and you pursed your lips with accusation.

He fluttered his lashes, similarly tucking his cheek against the couch while facing your direction.

You narrowed your gaze to translate your displeasure.

Mikey looked up roguishly before shooting you a wink.

You gave him one last sneer before you exhaled sharply to say you accepted that he was being sneaky since it helped Donnie.

Donnie’s prosthetic hit the floor a little heavy as he seemed jarred out of his meditation.

“So…?” Mikey led for you, even though there was a double entendre for your boyfriend.

“It was… interesting…” You spoke honestly. “I’m not sure I’d do it all the time, but I can see the use.”

“What’d you do?” Mikey wondered.

You thought of the best way to phrase it. “Thought about moving something with my mind.”

“Oh!” Mikey crooned. “That’s a cool way to start!”

“Well!” You pretended to take praise. “How was your body?”

“I’m all here.” He grinned brightly. “I did have a revelation!”

“I thought you weren’t going to reach enlightenment.” You teased, still curious.

Mikey held an impish hand to his chest before dropping it and the act. “I want to cook.”

You snorted. “Is that new?”

“Kinda…” He took on some level of nerves. “A potluck for one.”

“Huh?”

“I want to celebrate you.”

You stared at him. “What?”

Mikey smiled, his cheek squished against the couch. “No rotation. All of us at once. We break bread to say ‘you made it.’”

Your eyes widened.

He wanted to throw what was essentially a family meal, but fold you and Donnie in.

He wanted an excuse.

“Next week is three months since the day you were taken in.”

Had it been that long already?

“There’s been huge progress all around.” Mikey was getting a little too close to naming Donnie.

You had a complaint on your lips.

In fact, you had thousands of them.

Of all the ways this could go badly.

Then you saw breakfast.

You saw four uncomfortable men under one roof.

And you.

Unintentionally.

And yet again.

You’d brought them together.

Wasn’t that what you were trying to avoid?

It all came back to Leo. 

Was he the only one?

You weren’t sure. 

“We’ve all been busting our butts, you most of all. I think we all could use a meal that’s way too big that says we’re moving to the next step.”

“Which is…?”

“Us heading back out.” Mikey’s crow’s feet looked particularly joyous. “We keep going.”

Your new normal.

“I’m thinking I’ll whip up a bunch of stuff, cook and finish some here. The place will smell so good.”

That did sound nice.

Your gaze lowered and you tried to picture all four together.

It had been so long and everything so tenuous it was hard to imagine.

You mostly saw Leo.

Distant Leo, doing his best to not fall apart again.

Your chest tightened.

Mikey lightly touched your leg. “No pressure.”

“That’s not…” You sent him a half sure grin before you looked at Donnie.

You weren’t going to sway him this time.

This decision was his alone.

You translated this to your partner where he seemed to be waiting.

He took you in with a tilted chin that had many reservations.

You softened your gaze saying you knew them all too well.

He looked one step away from chuffing before his body loosened with a relaxation you also felt.

The meditation had worked.

Donnie gave a slow singular nod and you bowed your head slightly to show you deferred to him.

He took a seat in his chair as if it was a great effort and slumped with his own sigh.

Returning to Mikey found the younger man watching with an interested twinkle in his eye.

“Okay.” You gave a tentative grin. “Let’s do it.”

“Yes!” Mikey hopped up and right back down so he was plopped closer to you with his phone manifesting in his hand. “Now tell me all your favorite foods, don’t hold back, go!”

You giggled and spent the rest of Mikey’s shift going on and on about food. From planning the menu to simply ranting about nearby restaurants, the time flew by. You soon had a menu laid out along with a detailed grocery list that Donnie had stepped in to say he would purchase. Even though you knew the action had an edge of fear to it, you took his participation as a good sign and Mikey offered to send you over the recipe list so you could send it to Donnie. You agreed and after lobbing way too many messages around your phone, Mikey soon shot upright. “Alrighty!”

You looked at him in confusion before going to check the time.

“Don’t wanna keep Raph waiting!” Mikey took a big step in front of you before rounding to where Leo’s portals usually appeared. “Oh, one more thing…”

“Yeah?” You did your best to look over the back of the couch.

You found Mikey staring at Donnie.

Your mate returned the gaze with growing concern.

“Think of this as thanks for your shitty bow!” Mikey split a manic grin.

Both you and Donnie tensed.

Mikey’s head snapped in your direction with a sickly tilt. “This bastard relapsed when you were in your coma.”

Donnie reared with the first bits of a snarl.

A blue portal appeared the second he tried and Mikey gave double peace signs while biting his tongue for a crazed expression as he fell backward through it.

You stared after.

Donnie made it several steps forward and you could feel the fumes coming off of him.

Raph then hurtled through the portal. “W-what happened?!”

You watched purple flicker and sputter in Donnie’s eye.

Raph’s own caught fire. “H-hey now…!”

“Relapsed…” You spoke fearfully.

“Y/N…” Donnie didn’t look at you and was instead locked onto the center of Raph’s plastron to where Mikey had been.

“Like… the drugs?” Against your leg’s weakness, you rose to better look over the couch. “You did drugs again…?” 

“Ah…” Raph didn’t drop his attention, but what was happening fell into place for him. “Yeah… You shot up a few times, didn’t you?”

Raph knew. 

Mikey knew. 

You didn’t know.

“I needed to stay awake!” Donnie roared, taking another step forward.

You saw a ghost of Raph in red slip from his form.

“Awake and numb!!!” Spittle flecked as Donnie panted through his teeth.

Flickers of purple shimmered in the air.

Raph’s projection grew the slightest amount. “Donatello…”

Donnie’s heavy breathing filled the space.

Diffuse.

It would be better to diffuse the situation.

You weren’t even mad.

You were more haunted by the knowledge.

Donnie had been candid about making and taking drugs, but it had also seemed like he left them behind in the mania of his 20s.

You weren’t sure how to feel about them now.

They made sense to an extent, which placed you with a single question.

“Ha… have you since…?”

Donnie didn’t seem to be able to move, but his lips momentarily closed. “No…”

“Are you…?” He clearly wasn’t alright.

Not now.

Not in all the time since the attack.

There was something more.

Though there was glitter in the air and Donnie seemed to be close to hyperventilating, nothing had actually manifested.

No artillery. 

No guns. 

“Okay.” You finally spoke, a single note drop in the bucket.

It plopped and did nothing to change the amount held in the receptacle.

Things were different.

The lack of weaponry was a sign of that.

As Mikey had said: It was time to keep going.

“Okay.” You repeated, this time enforcing the syllables.

It wasn’t an immediate disengagement, but Donnie garnered enough strength from the sound to look at you.

His gaze pained with a broken blinker of purple and he continued to strain with his body.

The purple in the air flittered away and Raph’s projection slowly melded back with his body until Donnie slumped a certain amount.

A collective breath was released and only when Donnie collapsed back into his chair did Raph throw his hands up to claw them down his face. “Mikey! He’s such a little shit, I swear!”

You gave a puff of what wasn’t laughter and sank down into the couch.

“I did not want to get shot again!” Raph complained and had to take a step to anchor himself to the couch. “Not a way to start my shift.”

You sympathetically patted Raph’s hand where you could reach it. “Good news.”

“What’s that?” Raph’s face said he wanted more than the obvious.

You would exalt Donnie for successfully disengaging his ninpo for the first time later.

For now, there was something else to pass along.

“We’re having a dinner party.” You told him, feeling exhausted. “We’re what?” Raph deadpanned.

💜NEXT💜

I'm so sleepy, but i love my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[gotta-pet-em-all]

Pokemon-induced healing

And why you fuckers shouldn't rely on it for everything, Arceus fuck stop forcing your poor Chansey to take care of wounds that you should seriously go to the hospital for

* * * * *

okay. SO. To preface this, I volunteered in a Pokemon center for a while. And while this was just a volunteer position and not something I had medical training for, I've also got personal experience. Due to my poor coordination and shitty connective tissue, I tend to fall over, bump into things, and bruise very easily. So trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about.

So, how does pokemon healing work?

That's a fucking complicated question. So, let's start with the healing moves and narrow it down. The main ones I'm going to be talking about here are Heal Pulse, Life Dew, and Floral Healing.

Actually no I'm not qualified to talk about Floral Healing. If any comfey trainers wanna add on, feel free.

Heal pulse and life dew! So, Heal Pulse is the one I have the most familiarity with, and it's essentially a wave of energy that encourages your body to accelerate the natural healing process. No, it does not artificially age you, and it will not reduce your lifespan, but let's be real for a moment. If you get injured and need healing that much, your lifespan may be in danger for other reasons.

However. There are other dangers to it that really aren't talked about a lot, namely: repairing tissue damage, and infection. There are a lot of situations in which heal pulse can be risky:

-injured person has an artificially suppressed or otherwise compromised immune system.

-injured person has a heart condition, particularly where arrhythmia is a symptom

-injury is infected or contains foreign substance

-dead tissue is still attached to affected area

And I'm gonna break down one by one, why all of these are bad!

So, it's not quite as well known, but heal pulse actually does have an impact on the immune system. In ancient times, it was believed that cursed pokemon would make you sick when they healed you, but in actuality, this phenomenon was simply the pokemon kicking the immune system into gear for a minor/dormant infection that would have happened anyways. However, this can be dangerous for people with a compromised immune system, because you're basically trying to squeeze blood from a stone. In most cases, it can make their immune systems worse, and while this is thankfully temporary, it's still deeply unpleasant and may interfere with someone's plans because you've abruptly shunted them to the hospital when they were going to have brunch with the girls this week instead.

Next is arrhythmia. I've got this one, it flares up from time to time. I cannot stress enough that disabled people are everywhere. We don't just exist as tokens at the edge of your imagination. We're probably at the grocery store or on public transportation. It may just be that I'm a bit jaded, but it pisses me off more than anything that I have to experience symptoms when I would love to be frolicking through the woods. Anyways, heal pulse relies on the heartbeat to synchronize with and distribute the energy-- so when the heartbeat is uneven? Things can start getting a lil fucky. Usually this results in dizziness, nausea, feeling flushed, and on rare occasions fainting. People with heart conditions are more common than you think, please ask us before messing with our bodies.

Third thing is infections. Remember how I said that heal pulse kicks your immune system into overdrive? Well, the immune system is responsible for expelling all foreign matter from your system, not just illness. This is why you'll want to make sure to clean a wound first, unless it's urgent. You can skip the wound cleaning part if it's an emergency, but... it's not really pretty. Seriously. I don't advise it.

Fourth reason! Okay, so, this is gonna be a little gross, but let's say you trip and skin your knee. It's bleeding, you've got a weird little flap of skin hanging off. Normally, that skin will turn white (or at least it does for me; I have light skin, but I'm told it may turn a pale greyish color for people with dark skin. That said, I'm gonna be real. I do not want to look up pictures, so I am trusting the dark skinned folks reading this to know what dead/peeling skin looks like for them) and eventually fall off. HOWEVER. If you apply heal pulse to it? There's a decent chance that your body may attempt to revitalize the dead skin at the same time as it scabs over the wound and then the skin closes up and eats the scab. It won't kill you, and eventually the extra flap of skin will die, but it's still. Geh. It's really not pleasant. Don't do it.

If this sounds fucking horrifying, that's because it is! All of these things are fucking horrifying to happen to your body! Don't ask me how I know this!

Now that you've all been suitably terrified of the dangers of heal pulse, let me introduce you to an alternative: life dew! Life dew does not interfere with arrhythmia, can be stored with special preparation, and generally has much weaker effects. It tends to help with the process of clotting and scabbing more so than healing, so if you've made any mistakes, they're generally easier to remedy.

Pokemon healing, like any other type, requires consent. Yes, there are exceptions-- sometimes a person cannot reasonably consent in their current state, or there was an accident with a wild scyther and consent is the last thing on your mind with all the blood everywhere. Even so, please always keep in mind that you need to respect the sanctity of other people's bodies and take accountability for your actions as a trainer.

That's all!

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Noticed But Hoping For The Best Part 5

There was nothing wrong, Danny knew that! He was just getting more and more tired as the ghost attacks ramped up, but it wasn't like he could explain why he was so exhausted. What would he even say? 'I'm the one fighting all the ghosts and going home was stressful until Jazz managed to set the home security system to not target me'? No, absolutely not. Because of that, however, he was forced to endure people acting like he was sick or something!

Well, Jazz didn't at least. She was just doing her general check-ins after his fight, always fussing over him and yet they quicky figured out that any injuries he gains as Phantom? They show up as bruises of varying severity when in his human form! As the bruises faded, the wounds Phantom had slowly healed, though they of course looked how they were supposed to on his ghost form. It was actually really cool to know that he wouldn't end up severely scarred from any injuries he got defending Amity Park!

Still, his sister used any day after a fight as an excuse to fuss and make sure he was okay, even if it was something simple as making him a smoothie for breakfast- when did she start doing that, anyways? Did they really have enough non-sentient food in the fridge, or was Jazz keeping her own personal store of stuff-? Actually that would make sense, maybe he should start doing the same. Sometimes she went a bit overboard, though, like insisting she was the one to comb his hair or tie his shoes before they went out the door. Danny wasn't a toddler, there was no need to go that far!

Still, he good-naturedly rolled his eyes and grumbled, occasionally fighting it- she once tried to zip up his jacket for him! Just because his fingers were clumsy from not getting enough sleep doesn't mean he was unable to do it himself- but otherwise the teen let his older sister fuss, knowing it made her feel better.

Thankfully, Tucker wasn't acting any different, either! It would have been easy to see, since they were spending more time together while Sam was away, but there was no change- except for teasing about his appearance, or about his handwriting. Danny had noticed that about his handwriting as well, lines never seemed to come out straight when he started writing or tried to draw, but that was another thing explained away by exhaustion. The lack of sleep affecting small motor skills was something he'd heard his parents warn each other about when growing up, and after the portal opened Jazz had lectured them about it and forced them to go to bed several times so they wouldn't hurt themselves in the lab.

Sleep felt like a bit of a luxury at this point, like going a week without a ghost attack or a test somehow being cancelled. Sure, he wasn't going sleepless, Jazz would never allow that and the ghosts tended to attack during the day, but apparently six hours weren't enough. Why else would he be nodding off in classes? Or maybe he was just bored, Danny could easily find that to be the case.

And yet when he was Phantom? Oh, he felt fantastic! Completely full of energy, his hands seemed to obey his mind, everything was clear and sharp, it was like he'd downed a coffee just before starting his fights! However, that made everything so much more prominent when he switched back. His left side randomly twitching- probably from overuse, his muscles did tend to feel sore around those times- but at least his right side didn't seem to feel it. It was probably just because the shock entered from his left hand, it would make sense for things to still be healing, even if turning half-ghost fixed most of the damage.

But it really seemed like having to deal with the ghosts invading the town was effecting his life more and more. It was taking longer to heal from any injuries he got in his human form- Dash tripped him once, Danny faceplanted into his locker, got detention for finally yelling at him and the busted lip he got took over two weeks to heal, it wasn't a good day- his grades were starting to drop, Mister Lancer seemed to be increasingly irritated with him. It was so frustrating! He was trying his best!

At least everything seemed to be alright in science class, it was as enjoyable as always. Sure, he always had to ask his lab partner to handle the finer details, like anything involving pipettes, but it was still fun! Even if he didn't enjoy his parents flavor of scientific curiosity, that didn't change the fact science was one of his favorite subjects. So of course, it made sense his luck would work against him and ruin one of the few good school-related things he had.

it was just a normal class, and his hands were steady enough to accurately poor things and use pipettes! Danny felt like he was on top of the world, he hadn't had a good day like this in awhile! There was an idle smile on his face as he worked, his arm wasn't sore- there was no warning when his body decided to betray him. No heads up, none of the soreness he had been using as an indicator to avoid breaking things. His left arm jerked, a stinging sensation streaking up his arm, fingers reflexively unclenching-

The only thing he could think as the beaker shattered on the floor was that he was glad it was empty. The chattering in the room fell silent as everyone turned and just... Stared. It was only for a moment, but it was still unnerving, then Mister Lancer spoke. "Danny, clean up the glass and see me after class- and for the love of Shakespeare, don't handle any more of the glassware."

That... that hurt to hear, in a way Danny couldn't explain. Sure, it made sense- why let someone handle fragile things when there was a chance of it breaking?- but that limited his ability to participate. Was he just going to be forced to watch everyone and do nothing whenever they had lab? The frustration spiked, causing the teen to pause and take a breath as he felt tears prickling his eyes. It was an accident, it wasn't his fault! Still, he managed to take care of the glass without getting any cuts.

There was a feeling of quiet dread, though, when he stayed back after everyone else was dismissed. Was this the final straw or something? Or would it be yet another lecture? He'd been getting a lot of those recently, on top of all the detentions when Mister Lancer decided he'd had enough of Danny dozing in class. It was a complete shock, but also a weight off his shoulders when he heard the magic words, "Calm down, you're not in trouble." So no detentions, and no consequences, fantastic! But of course it couldn't end there. "We just need to talk about something."

Right, of course, his teacher wouldn't hold him back just to say he wasn't in trouble. Still, the moment of silence where it looked like the man was actually thinking about what to say? Terrifying. It was like when his parents gave him The Talk, and while he knew Mister Lancer wouldn't do that it didn't decrease the nerves. "I won't ask for any details, but clearly something has happened."

That was not good- sure, Danny didn't think it was being guessed that he was Phantom, but the fact his exhaustion made someone think that something bad had happened meant he'd probably need to come up with some sort of cover, maybe lie about a lingering flu-

"I have been harsh due to believing you were slacking off, but if this is a genuine problem, it's my job as an educator to make sure any special requirements you have are met." Wait- waitwaitwait, that was as good as an apology from the man! It was impossible not to look at him with wide eyes, but no, it was too good to be true, unfortunately.

"Now, the ban on you handling glassware will exist and stay in place-" That was one of the worst things Mister Lancer could have said. That would effectively ban him from participating in labs, removing the fun parts that made science his favorite class! It was just one accident, it wasn't his fault! It wasn't fair! "-however, you will be given paper assignments you can fill out instead of doing the lab. Partner with someone and watch the experiment, then fill out the sheet your given."

That felt like being kicked when he was down! He couldn't actually participate, but he'd be forced to watch others do things without being able to join in, and then he'd have to write about what he saw! Danny didn't want that, especially because writing causes his hand to cramp severely, no matter which hand he uses! Usually he would be upset, yeah, but... it felt borderline tragic. It had been his first truly good day in a long while, everything was going perfectly, why did something have to go wrong! And Mister Lancer was still talking.

"Every time you submit a written assignment, I would like you to stay back and help me read it; your handwriting is like another language to me. Understood?" It felt like there was something trapped in his throat, to the point it felt hard to breathe, doing his best not to cry as he nodded. On top of not being able to participate in lab, he'd always have to stay back after every end-of-day class because his teacher couldn't even read his handwriting anymore! Why was everything going wrong?!

"Good. You're dismissed." It took all of Danny's effort to choke out the words expected of him, "Thank you." It took all of his effort not to run as he stepped out of the classroom and started walking to his locker to get his bag. He felt a sick, squirming feeling in his stomach, mind twisting itself in knots after that interaction.

And last but not least, there was Dash. The bane of his school life, the closest thing his human half had to a mortal enemy other than Vlad. It seemed like he upped the mockery of his appearance- "Did you run into that lunch ghost on the way here, or do you always end up dumping food on yourself?" "Is it a hurricane out there or did you not bother to brush your hair?" "Jeez Fentoad, you're makin' it too easy if your trip yourself on your own laces!"

Sure, he wasn't the neatest-looking person around, but Danny didn't think it was that bad. Maybe it was because his mind had been looping around after the mini-meeting with Mister Lancer, but he never really focused on his food when eating, and that often led to spilling food. As for laces, it just felt like more effort than it was worth the retie his shoes every single time they came undone- they never seemed to stay in place anymore! But it was just so tiring, dealing with the taunts and jabs, the sore wrists and occasional busted lips from tripping that took forever to heal...

Eventually, Danny stopped jabbing back. Maybe it was because Sam wasn't there to keep encouraging him that that trouble was worth it, maybe it was his own exhaustion, but there were no more verbal responses to the taunts, nothing more than a huff when being shoulder-checked made him stumble. Dash seemed to be getting bored, though that didn't decrease how often he decided to be a pointless jerk all at once. The blonde was determined to drag him down it seemed, though. In the normal day-to-day, the taunting and shoving was decreased, but on the rare occasion Danny was having a good day? Everything went back to normal, and it sucked!

When he wasn't having a good day, though? Everyone was acting like he was sick- he wouldn't say diseased, though, since they didn't avoid him or anything, but the changes in how people looked at him and sometimes even interacted with him was. Conversations that suddenly dropped when he entered a classroom, people whispering to each other every time he passed by, barely concealed looks of pity. The weirdest part? Even Wes was giving him space! Wes! Explained with a handwave and a 'Obviously you can't be Phantom in your condition'. What did that even mean?!

Danny couldn't wait for Sam to get back, maybe she could help figure things out, everything felt like it had become twisted and everyone was acting like it was normal, he was going to go mad at this rate!

Previous Next

[holly-fixation]

Chapter 12: Storm

Summary: Sephiroth learns that he has a child, a lab made specimen existing under the same terrible conditions he was raised in. In a moment of pure rage, he rescues his child. However, his fate has long been sealed, but the child’s fate is unknown. 

Never did he expect the cadet that killed him to take responsibility for the heir of His planet. 

Inspired by various asks to @rottenpumpkin13

Please enjoy!

Chapter 12: Storm

Thunder roared. The rusting steel shuttered in fear. Winds howled, rattling weakened walls and shifting more leaks into the inner chamber: a simple living quarter for low ranked soldiers a long time ago.

The massive ships of the former Junon Republic tainted the beachside as a show of strength by the Shinra Corporation. The sunken vessels decayed, never to set sail again. Some hid treasure within to protect from thieves as most in Junon dared not approach the constant threat. 

Sephiroth adjusted his daughter in his wet arms as he sat in the corner, a feline mother and kittens on his left and a charred metal bucket on his right. He constantly checked the rim for rust before leaning his bare back against the wall. 

Seraphina looked up at him with mako flared eyes. He kept her as dry as he could, but the leather could only do so much to protect her. She took bated breaths and shivered despite the protection of her father's coat. Another jarring strike of lightning cracked but she barely made a sound.

“Seraphina?” 

His baby stayed silent, slit eyes struggling to meet his face. She should be asleep from the cures he casted the moment they were safe, her body exhausted from the necessary healing energy. 

“Seraphina, what's wrong?”

Again, no response. He risked opening his bundled coat, scanning her skin for any injury he possibly missed. Her skin was clear, smooth, but gray against the thin beam of lightning.

Her stomach jerked and she held her mouth tightly. 

He had originally scorched the bucket to be used for their waste, to minimize her chance of contracting tetanus. Now he placed his daughter in front of it, holding her hands against the rim. 

She vomited into the bucket, whimpering between each wave of her retching stomach. 

Sephiroth held her upright even if she didn't require his support.

Was she… poisoned?

Was that possible? She never bled. He was immune to poison. How could Zolom venom infect her system?

Her tiny stomach emptied painfully, her groan loud and exhausted. She rested her head on her shoulder and his arm while taking open breaths through gray lips.

Was it possible to absorb Zolom venom through the skin? Especially for someone so young?

He didn't know the answer to that. He mentally searched his accessible materia, cursing in frustration at the solid feeling. A mental wall preventing the orbs from appearing in his hand. Shinra jammed the connection to his materia inventory in the tower. All he could use were the orbs physically on him, in his sword and his armor. He thought he would have a few days, but the rejection was impossible to ignore. 

Now he couldn't heal what mattered most.

Seraphina backed away from the container, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of his coat. He scooped her into his arms so he could lay her down properly. 

“Seraphina, I have to go.” 

Her eyes went wide and she grabbed him anywhere she could reach. “No…”

He held her tiny hands in his. “I'll be back soon with medicine and food.”

“Bottle…?” 

“Yes. Two of them.” 

She shook her head. “No… No bottle… p…please…?” She always found a way to break his heart while making him grateful for ripping her out of that terrible place. But he taught her that word. He thought he did. Maybe she already knew how to use it. Maybe she already knew how to beg.

“I promise it won't hurt. But I need you to stay here as quietly as possible. I'll be back before you know it.”

“Stay…!”

Why did she know that word? 

“Dada, stay…!” this time she locked her fingers around his bangs. 

“I'm sorry. I have to go. This is to keep you safe. To make you better.”

Her fingers relented under the strength of his grip. 

He laid her into his coat and curled her in it like a loose sleeping bag. “I'll be right back. Stay under here unless you need to vomit again.”

She tilted her head. He pointed to the bucket and she seemed to understand the instruction. 

He pinched the corner of his coat. “Keep this around you on the ground. You need to keep warm.”

She protected her tiny face in the large collar. 

“If anyone else comes in here, I need you to scream as loud as you can. Do you understand?” 

“Ahhhh…” the significantly softer sound signified her understanding. Another needle through his heart. 

He stood, refusing to look at her before he wasted another moment letting her suffer just to be with her. “I'll be back soon. Stay safe.”

The high winds threatened to slam the door closed. The razor rain against his skin did nothing to slow him down. He sprinted across the region of Junon, heading straight for the mine's entrance. 

Monsters roamed the field regardless of the weather, but his blade never turned towards a single one. They swiped and roared at him as he gracefully dodged in favor of reaching his target. 

He avoided spotting his goal despite knowing exactly where it was as he ran back up the mountain to the exit of the mines. Near the chocobo stop and some old picnic tables, his target waited at its station. 

An Energy Drink: Potion vending machine. 

He stabbed through the camera and smashed through the locked cover, pulling the inventory door open. Each item waited individually on coils in sections and shelves. 

He took stashed, potions, and multiple instant ramen with attached disposable chopsticks, cursing mentally at the absence of esuna materia and protein shakes. Though he did not expect to find the polar opposite of an energy drink in a branded vending machine. He used the second belt of his uniform to strap the lipped and curved containers to his sides. Two instant ramens remained in his right hand. 

If possible, if Shinra allowed him room to breathe, he would find the owner of this machine and repay the replacement cost as a thank you.

As fast as he arrived, he vanished into the wilderness. The wind tore through the environment, smaller fiends beginning to retreat. Larger fiends huddled under trees and against cliffs. 

This wasn't an average thunderstorm. How could their luck turn so drastically? These first few days out away from Shinra decided their success at this escape. 

He was sure no one spotted him as he climbed the beached ships and returned to the inner room. Placing the loot down, he dented and bent the steel walls until no light remained, not a single flash breaking in. 

Sephiroth ignited a small flame in his right hand, suspending it without thought in the center of the chamber. 

The bucket's contents clearly rose. Seraphina was laying on her side, the coat draped in front of her instead of being tucked tightly against her body. She looked up at him with exhausted eyes.

“Seraphina, I have medicine.” He kneeled down, reaching for the cloak.

Seraphina backed away. The mother cat swatted at his hands and hissed. 

The cuts healed as quickly as they came. He glared at the feline before returning his gaze. “Seraphina.”

She shook her head, tightening her arms beneath the coat. “No… please no…”

“I promise it won't hurt you. You need to drink.”

Another shake of her head. 

Sephiroth reached again, this time keeping the cat at arm's length. Beneath the black leather laid his daughter and the three tiny kittens purring in her arms. 

Ah. That was why the cat attacked. The kittens mewed at the relatively cold air as he slid them away from his daughter. 

Seraphina whined too as she was lifted out of the warmth, her head lolling on her shoulders. “Dada…”

He uncapped the antidote. “I know it seems like it will hurt, but this will help you. I need you to drink. Can you hold your hands up for me?”

She squeezed her eyes closed as she cupped her hand for the bottle. 

“You're doing well, Seraphina. Drink as much as you can. Slowly.” He held the bottle to her hands and began tipping slowly. 

She whimpered when the liquid touched her lips. He maintained the same shallow angle until she took her first sip and swallowed. Her slit eyes opened, the tension in them fading as she drank more and more. 

Sephiroth watched as her gray skin faded back to the pale of his own. Her dark eyes brightened. Her body's shaking ceased. He observed each cured symptom and removed the bottle after a quarter of the antidote vanished. 

His daughter rested against him, her eyes closed softly as she pressed against his wet skin. 

Sephiroth brought the flame closer. The cat at his side carried each kitten individually to the light, lying beneath it once the task was complete. The tiny creatures huddled together for warmth, light purrs emanating from the small group. 

Sephiroth chose to let his child rest for a moment as he maneuvered through the bottles and containers attached on his belt. A dripping plastic cylinder of instant ramen found its way into his hand. 

She needed to eat to restore her energy. Rest would only help in the short term. 

He lowered his daughter into his lap, confirming her comfort and stability before peeling the seal off the container. He casted the tiniest water spell to soak the noodles and held the cup above the fire. 

Angeal once used the expression ‘a watched pot never boils’ when teaching Sephiroth how to cook. It seemed accurate with every idol minute. But he didn't want to melt the plastic, catch the kittens in the crossfire, or learn the hard way if his daughter was immune to fire like himself. Angeal also stressed the fine line between increased heat accelerating the process and creating a worthless pile of ash. 

Once the meal began steaming, he counted the seconds. According to the instructions, it took ninety seconds to soften the dish once at a boil. 

He wasn't concerned with the noodles. 

After ninety seconds, he searched through the floating tubes and removed every curl of shrimp hiding within, placing them gently on the removed plastic seal as one would hold a cookie on a napkin. 

The moment the ramen hit his tongue, his eyes widened. He scarfed down the meal rapidly. Well, as rapidly as he could without spilling broth on his chin. He consumed every remaining drop, all but licking the container clean. 

Genesis had once described cheap ramen as ‘food that makes you sad when you eat it’. Which didn't make any sense to Sephiroth as consuming nutrients created a biological chemical reaction to bring joy. It should be impossible for the act of eating to lower the mood. But today he understood even after three days without any nutrients in his stomach. This certainly tasted better than lab food, but his body almost felt weaker with this fuel than without. He hoped it would fade. He needed it to for her sake. 

Sephiroth plucked each shrimp back into the plastic bowl and mashed them to paste with the tips of the chopsticks. He removed a small clump, testing the temperature against his bare arm. He really wished he still had that parenting book. 

Just warm. Perfect. 

“Seraphina?” 

He swore the sound she made when she opened her eyes was identical to the cats’ wake up noise of ‘mmrp’.

“Are you feeling better?”

She nodded. 

“Then, it's time to eat. They didn't have the shakes you like, but I want you to try this, okay?”

Slit eyes stared blankly before she held her hands up for a bottle. 

Sephiroth shook his head. He pinched a small ball of shrimp paste and held it in front of her mouth. 

Black eyebrows crossed in confusion. She looked up at him. 

“Like this.” He demonstrated by eating the tiny portion, deliberately moving his jaw. At least the shrimp didn't make him sad, so it should be good for her. He plucked another ball and presented it. “Now try. Make sure you chew.”

His daughter opened her mouth and waited. 

He was struck with the realization that she did not know how to lean yet. She could climb a mako crystal. She could dig half herself into a bunny burrow. She could run and jump and copy any word perfectly. But she couldn't lean. He swallowed his thoughts and delivered the serving into her mouth. 

The taste hit her tongue, and her eyes dilated immediately. She licked off the shrimp and swallowed instantly. 

“You have to chew it. Like this.” He pretended to scoop and bite the sticks, deliberately moving his jaw once again. 

This time she did the same. 

“Very good. Now try again.” 

She opened her mouth and accepted the bite. This time she chewed slowly, as if testing out the feeling, before wincing at the imperfect chunks. 

“Keep chewing. You're doing well.”

Sephiroth patiently taught her until the cup was empty. 

He held her close before laying her back down. “You can sleep again. We have lots of time before the storm lets up.”

However, Seraphina had other plans. She pushed off the floor and held the remainder of his coat over her shoulders like a cape, dragging it across the ground before kneeling at the kittens. It seems she couldn't take her hands off of them. 

The tiny balls of fluff purred at the attention and warmth. 

Sephiroth almost smiled at the sight, at her joy, but then she scared him. He understood she could copy any word. Sephiroth didn't expect the ability to extend to sounds as Seraphina emitted a purr with the family of felines under the light of his fire. 

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To be continued…

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Thanks for reading!