#the mystic duck answers!

[mysticstarlightduck]

Happy WBW! 🧙 - If your world has magic users, can anyone use magic or is it something they are born with?

Happy Worldbuild Wednesday! Thank you so much for the Ask, @pluttskutt!

Happy WBW! 🧙 - If your world has magic users, can anyone use magic or is it something they are born with?

Oh, boy, do I have an answer for this! In my main WIP, The Last Wrath, magic - and therefore multiple forms of spellcasting - is something integral to the continent of Agrannor, where the story takes place.

Let's start from the beginning:

In the dark fantasy world of TLW, the lands of Agrannor, magical talent is a very varied concept.

For Mageborn (humans born with magical blood): They are born with pure magic in their blood, which means they have a natural connection to the ancient magic sources that once flowed freely throughout the lands. Those spellcasters are much more powerful and innately talented than any human sorcerer can ever hope to be naturally. Also, they are rather different from humans in many cultural traits, but also in their physical appearance (eye color, hair color, etc.), especially when it comes to the striking Mageborn "runic markings" that naturally occur the more a mage practices their power. Their magic comes from within them and rarely requires the assistance of external means. Since their magic is an inherent part of their blood - something they're born with, they can use their magic without the need for casting runes (though some, more tricky, spells require the use of rune casting) and usually have a connection with a specific type of magic they use to power their spells

E.g. You can be a Nightshaper, a mage who harnesses their magic from the power of the night - the darkness, the stars, the moon, the cold, etc - to cast their spells. In TLW, Vallerius Zyndrosar is a Nightshaper mage.

You can be an Icebringer, a mage who harnesses their magic from the power of winter - the ice, the wind, the stillness, etc - to cast their spells. In TLW, Cyprian Naras is an Icebringer.

You can be a Naturemorph, harnessing your powers from nature itself - from plants to stone, the very dirt you walk on and the heartbeat of earth, etc. In TLW, Myrah Faron is a Naturemorph.

Among many other types of mages.

For the Non-Magical People of Agrannor: Humans are not born magically talented, having little to no natural connection to the ancient magic sources (though some have what is called a "magical affinity" which means they have a slight connection the the Sources, and more chance to succeed should they choose to follow that path). They can, however, become sorcerers or wizards. In Agrannor, a sorcerer relies on an external source of magical powers (usually an artifact, a magically imbued runic weapon, potions or an artificial rune-engraved tattoo/marking) to harness and use magic, and it will never be a natural part of them like it would be for a mage.

Usually, in Agrannor, most of the magic for said artifacts is harnessed from natural sources, such as magical crystals, or magically rich environments, without causing harm to anyone. A talented sorcerer can have a magically imbued tattoo/marking engraved in their skin - usually in their arm - giving them free access to their trained powers anytime they need them. Zephyr Tellian is the most notable human sorcerer in Agrannor, born in the Fallen Kingdom of Eldon, Zephyr was a remarkably magically-talented child, with a strong magical affinity, and got his runic mark early on from the Eldonian Order of Sorcerers, before being forced to flee the fallen kingdom. Yuna Thyren is also a sorcerer in TLW, and her powers come from her runic weapons - crafted by herself - and her mystical heritage.

UNFORTUNATELY - There is a darker side of (some) Human Spellcasting (which some villains in TLW seem to fall under): Recently, some human sorcerers started wanting more power than their artificial magic (artifacts, potions, markings, etc) ould give them. In the Morosyn Empire (one of the regions of Agrannor), the Temple of Radiance enforces the Radiant Hunts, which capture mages to harness the magic from their blood - a cruel and vile initiative that is deeply despised outside of the Morosyn lands. Such Hunts also go after Elves, Faeborn (Faeries), and Merfolk, basically targetting anyone talented enough (according to the Temple's doctrine, the more powerful the spellcaster, the more power can be harnessed from their blood). The Bloodharvest Rituals always kill the captured mages, but the Temple doesn't care - as long as it gets what it is looking for. Such is the reality for many magically talented people in the Morosyn Empire. Most of the Imperial human sorcerers often use this cruel system to become more powerful through artificial magic created from the Bloodharvest. most of the Imperial army is equipped with advanced weaponry powered by the magic harvested from the crooked hunts.

Another important distinction:

Pure Magic - the magic carried by the Mageborn and the other sentient magical species of Agrannor. Being something they're born with, it is completely natural and stems from the nature around them and the ancient sources.

Artificial Magic - The magic used by most of the human sorcerers and magic warriors in Agrannor. It can have two origins:

It can be harvested from nature (usually from some of the sources itself) - Taken from the ancient natural sources, this magic is usually carefully collected from the environment and used to power the sorcerer's runic tattoos, artifacts/amulets/runic weapons, and power-inducing potions. Being derived from pure magic, it is usually good and does not harm others in the process it takes to achieve it.

Blood Magic - Also known as "vile magic", artificial blood magic is the one harnessed from actual people, a practice enforced by the imperial Temple of Radiance. It gives the user a much more dangerous and raw power, creating much more deadly runic weaponry. Due to its cruel and despicable origins, causing inexcusable harm to innocent people, it is an inherently evil form of artificial magic.

Dark/Corrupted Magic - Dark magic is a form of natural/Pure magic, derived from the corruption of the natural ancient magic sources and of magical phenomena around the continent. The corruption of magic is caused by the actions of the Secret Court (an ancient order of corrupted sorcerers who seek to rewrite the world in blood), and is extremely dangerous, unstable, and deadly. It also causes the existence of Fallen Ones - mageborn, faeborn, elves, etc - who are born with the natural magic already tainted by darkness, for the source with which they were connected was corrupted before their birth.

For other sentient (non-human) magical races in Agrannor - Elves, Merfolk, Vampires/Dhampirs, and Faeborn are all born with an inherent connection to the magic around them, being made from it, and have to train their spellcasting skills like any mage seeking to improve their innate abilities.

There are magical academies and orders that exist to train magically talented people - be it mages or sorcerers - and all of them have different approaches to the learning/teaching process and what kind of spellcasters they'll train.

NOTE:

The Secret Court - Formed during the Ancient Wars - a vast conflict that tore the continent apart millennia before the current story even takes place - they sought to learn how to control and utilize the strangely occurring dark magic phenomena around them, creating the most dangerous form of magic that would late serve as their weapon of war against the continent. Even after their perceived defeat by Dawn Knight Abavven Ashiren, all those years ago, they continued working from the shadows - corrupting the ancient sources and twisting the minds of the weakwilled - until their return in the current age of Agrannor. Anyone can become a member of the Secret Court, if tainted by dark magic, and become just as - if not more - powerful than any untainted mage. Dark magic twists the very nature of a being, becoming one with them. It is an extremely vile and dangerous practice that is outlawed - for good reason - in all regions of Agrannor.

So, in short:

Mageborn - humans born with a natural magic affinity to the ancient sources of magic in nature.

Sorcerers - non-magic humans who use artificial means to gain access to magical powers.

Blood Sorcerers (and Hunters) - non-magical human spellcasters who harness their powers from the blood of magically talented individuals. A cruel and unforgivable practice.

Other Sentient Magical Species - Elves, Faeborn (faeries), Vampires & Dhampirs and Merfolk. Non-human species who are naturally born with a connection to magic.

Fallen Ones - mages (or other sentient magical species) who are born with dark magic powers, because the magical source they or their parents were connected to was corrupted unknowingly before their birth. An accidental aftermath of the unholy work of the Secret Court, they can be good people, though their powers often consume them.

The Secret Court - Dark Sorcerers and Mages who choose to use corrupted/tainted magic as their source of magical power. Also unforgivable.

[disney-mystical-au]

what happened to Della in this au? do the moon landers still exist in some form???

(Oh my gosh I forgot about this ask I am so so sorry-)

Della in this AU went missing one night when she stole Scrooges sailing boat (who he originally wanted to surprise both of them to a sailing adventure), before then, Donald tried to stop her for going as he thought it was dumb of her to leave her triplets behind over some stupid adventure, Della being impulsive and stubborn didn’t listen and decided to sneak out at night while Donald was sleeping (leaving behind her un-hatched triplets in that process). But while sailing in the ocean there was a huge storm that swept her away into the unknown.

Residents in the village found out about her disappearance in the morning and try to search for Della in any place of their land (including Scrooge). But no luck, they soon gave up on the search for Della since she has been missing for long time and presumed she died, except for Donald. Donald knew she stole the boat and has tried searching for clues out at sea for answers on where she may be, again. No luck. He soon gave up on searching Della (but had little hope she was still alive…right?)

As for the Moonlanders? Well I’m not too sure how to include them in this AU. (I have some ideas plan out. Hopefully)

[vodika-vibes]

Vodika... could we, please and thank you very much, get another mystic au with the Same Faces Gods? 👉👈 With a commander (Wolffe, Fox, Cody, Mayday, your choice). A first wohoo of love at first sight but busy.

Idk someone tries to appease the gods with a sacrifice, or the imperials try to replicate the technique but it backfires or a friend of 1st reader is a bit clumsy in a good way??

Of course you have every right not to do so!!!!

God Of War

Summary: Your cousin has been missing for months. Her social media has gone dark, and the people in the ExploraCorps have been tight-lipped about her whereabouts. Your family is sick with worry, and no one in the Empire seems willing to help. And then, when you're at work one day, everything changes.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 3079

Warnings: Mentions of attempted human sacrifice, and kidnapping

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thanks for your request! I wasn't sure if you wanted smut or not, so I erred on the side of caution and left this largely SFW. SFWish. I hope you like it!

You peek around your mother to look at your aunt. She’s sitting at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped tightly around one of your cousin’s old stuffed animals. Her eyes are glassy with tears. Your uncle has been staring out the back window since you and your mother arrived.

“Are they okay?” You ask, your voice quiet to not be overheard.

Your mother presses her lips together, and lightly cups your face, “Never you mind,” She admonishes, “They’ll be alright. So far as we know, your cousin is alive. They’re just worried about her.”

“The ExploraCorps hasn’t said anything?”

Your mother tapped your nose, “Never you mind.” She leans in and kisses your cheek, “Go on, baby. You’re going to be late for work.”

Worriedly, you gaze at your aunt and uncle and then back to your mother, “Are you sure? Senator Organa won’t mind giving me the day.”

“I’m sure. I’ll take care of them today,” She lightly pets your cheek, then turns back to her brother and sister-in-law.

You watch them momentarily, then turn and hurry out of their house. Luckily, the taxi is still waiting for you and you climb in the back before giving the driver your destination, the senate building. 

When you completed the placement tests as a child, you had a predisposition for politics and law. You were lucky and were selected to be an assistant for Senator Bail Organa, rather than some of the less agreeable Senators. 

He’s an agreeable man, with a big heart, and has come to view you like a beloved niece. When you told him that you were going to be late that morning due to a family emergency, he offered to give you the whole day.

If you thought that your presence would help your aunt and uncle, you’d take him up on that offer. But your uncle took one look at you and nearly collapsed to the ground in his grief.

You pay your taxi driver and head into the Senate Dome, walking the familiar path without really paying attention. It’s late enough in the day that there aren’t many people roaming the halls.

Which is good for you, because you’re not paying the most attention to your surroundings. 

You don’t snap back to yourself until you open the door to Senator Organa’s office and he says your name. You focus your attention on him, and he smiles kindly, “I wasn’t expecting to see you until this afternoon.”

You pause, and then duck your head, “Sorry, Senator. My presence wasn’t helping things, so Mom said to come in.”

He looks worried, “Is everything alright?”

Your hands curl into fists, “My cousin is a member of the ExploraCorps. She’s missing. Has been for months, and no one is telling us anything. Her social media has gone dark and…” You trail off, “Well, we’re worried.”

“I can understand that. Would you like me to reach out?”

“I appreciate it, Senator. But I doubt you’ll get an answer any different than what we got.” You sigh, “I just need something to do, that’s all.”

He walks over to you, and lightly places his hand on your shoulder, “Well, I have a lot of that. Would you be a dear, and deliver this stack of missives for me?”

You glance at the small stack of brown envelopes, and then you nod, “For the Perkins Bill?”

“Indeed. I’m sure it’s going to pass, everyone supports it, but we need to do things properly.” He walks over to his desk and hands you the stack of envelopes. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

“Yes, Senator.” You reply as you flip through the envelopes, and then pause when you get to the last one, “Senator?”

“Yes?”

“This last envelope isn’t labeled.”

“Oh?” He takes it, and stares at it in bewilderment, “I think this goes to the ExploraCorps.”

You stare at him.

“Ah, hold on.” He moves around his desk to open the envelope, and scans the content inside, “Ah, I was wrong. This goes to the Director of the MediCorps.”

A frown pulls at your lips, “Wasn’t the director of the MediCorps recently replaced?”

“Yes, he was.” Senator Organa flips open a binder and scans a sheet of paper at the top, “The current director is…hm…ah, here she is. Doctor Yasmin Kelb.”

“What happened to Doctor Trudel?” 

“Medically Retired.” Senator Organa replies, “Cancer.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It is.” You watch as he seals the paper in a new envelope and labels it to Doctor Kelb, “Here you go. Once you deliver all of these, come on back. I’ll have some more for you then.”

“Yes, Senator.”

“Good, lass. Off you run.”

You turn and leave his office, and stop in the hallway to organize the envelopes in a way that makes sense to you. Mentally, you map out the senate building and organize the delivery schedule in such a way that you won’t have to backtrack a lot, and then you start making deliveries.

The nicest thing about being Bail Organa’s aide is that you’re largely invisible. The people you work with don’t see you so much as Senator Organa’s crest on your nice jacket, and it gives you access to places where you normally wouldn’t have access.

It’s only fair. Senator Organa is a very well-respected man, almost as well respected as his lady wife. And anyone who is even remotely attached to him is treated with the same amount of respect.

It’s one of the few perks of your job.

The other one is the daily free food and coffee.

Finally, you only have the envelope for Doctor Kelb, and so you hop on the elevator to go up to the Director of the MediCorps office. Only to find yourself in front of an empty room.

“Everything alright?” A security guard asks as he walks over to you, glancing at the crest on your jacket, and the straightening.

“I have a message to deliver to Doctor Kelb for Senator Organa. Did the location of the MediCorps office change?”

“Yes ma’am,” He nods once, “They’re in the basement now. At Doctor Kelb’s request. You’ll find her office next to Director Frosch’s office.”

Slowly, you nod, “Next to the Office of the ExploraCorps?”

“That’s right.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. Have a good day, ma’am.”

“You as well.” You turn and head back to the elevator, bypassing the first one and heading to the second one. There’s only one elevator that heads to the basement, for security reasons, luckily you already have an access card and you don’t have to go ask the Senator to use his.

You wave your card over the panel next to the elevator, and the door slides open several moments later. You hit the button for sublevel one, and you wave your card over the panel inside the elevator, which allows the doors to slide shut and the elevator to start moving. 

It takes almost a whole minute to get to sublevel 1, that’s just how massive the senate building is, and you scrunch up your nose at the scent. The sublevel smells like a disgusting mix of antiseptic, the pine of the cleaning solution that cleaners use, and mildew. There must be a water leak somewhere.

You walk down the hall until you reach Director Frosch’s office, and you peer at the two offices next to his. 

One is empty, it used to belong to the director of the EduCorps, but EduCorps was moved to the local university several months ago. But the other one has a temporary door sign marking it as the office of Doctor Yasmin Kelb.

The door is shut, but you can see a light on under the door, so you lightly knock and wait.

The door swings open so suddenly, and with such force, that you jump back.

If you were to meet Doctor Kelb on the street, you’d think that she was a professional dancer. Less thin and more willowy. She towers over you, standing nearly the same height as your uncle as best as you can tell, and she squints at you through a pair of wireframe glasses. “What?” She demands, impatiently.

“Doctor Kelb? I have a missive for you from Senator Organa-” You start, holding out the envelope, only to blink as the woman rips it from your hands.

“Yes, yes. Good.” She vanishes into her office, and you stare at the spot where the woman had been standing, wondering if you should just leave, only to jump when she appears again, “What are you doing?” She demands, “Follow.”

“I…yes, Doctor!” You step into her office and she slams the door shut behind you.

Her office is a mess. Boxes and books and loose papers leave very little walking space.

“Ignore the mess,” The Doctor says as she brushes past you, knocking a box full of papers to the floor. “I just moved in.” 

Her office is a lot bigger than any of the other offices. It almost looks like her office continues deeper beneath the Senate Building. 

“Doctor?” You ask.

“What?”

“Where are you taking me?” 

The woman sighs explosively, “Keep up, girl.” It’s not a very neat side-step of your question, and you’re starting to get an eerie feeling, as though you should probably leave.

“...Senator Organa will be waiting for me.” You say as you slow to a stop.

The woman sighs again and spins to look at you. There’s a frightening look on her face, and you take half a step back, only to trip over a book and fall.

“This,” Doctor Kelb says to you as she advances on you, a syringe in her hand, “is for the good of the Empire.”

“W-wait-!” You try to scramble back but there’s nowhere to go. 

You feel the sharp sting of a needle entering your neck and the cold feeling of something entering your body. Panicked, you manage to kick the woman off of her, but you only manage to get a few feet away from her before whatever she injected you with takes hold.

A terrified sob falls from you, even as the world fades to darkness.

Slowly, you come back to yourself.

You’re in a dimmed room, and you seem to be lying on stone. 

Immediately you know that you’re either no longer in the senate building, or you’re so deep beneath the building that you might as well be somewhere else. 

Slowly you sit up to take stock of your surroundings. 

The first thing you note is that you’re naked, even your hair tie has been removed. Your feet are chained to this stone bed, though there doesn’t appear to be anything keeping you from moving. 

There’s a deep gash on the palm of your left hand. Curiously, it’s already been wrapped in bandages.

You turn your attention away from yourself and to your surroundings. It appears that you’re in some kind of ritual circle, like the ones you learned about in history class all those years ago.

Across from you is a stone table. You can’t see, exactly, what’s on it, but you do see a blanket folded on the table, as well as the skull of some type of animal.

Around the edges of the circle is Doctor Kelb, as well as several members of the ExploraCorps.

They don’t seem to notice, or care, that you’re awake. 

“We have everything,” Director Frosch insists, “This is exactly what the ritual entails.”

“I agree.” Doctor Kelb says with a dispassionate glance at you, before she looks back at the director, “Best get started before the sacrifice starts making a nuisance of herself.”

“Yes, yes.” Doctor Frosch strokes his beard and then picks up a lighter and lowers it to a divot in the ground.

You watch, in numb horror, as flames spring to life around you. Blocking the people who kidnapped you from sight.

They mean to burn you alive.

You’re only thought, hope, is that maybe it’ll be quick. Maybe your death won’t hurt too much.

The flames lick up the sides of the stone bed you’re strapped and you can feel the almost cold heat of the flames licking the soles of your feet. You slam your eyes shut, you don’t want to see this.

Then the impossible happens.

The flames bend away from you, the pain in your feet fades, and a cool hand presses against your cheek. Tearfully, you look up.

A man is standing over you, just as naked as you are, but strangely, you aren’t afraid of him. “It’s going to be okay.” He says soothingly, as he drapes the blanket over your shoulders and wraps it around you.

You start as the manacles holding you to the stone bed shatter as if they were never there to begin with. “Who-?”

His other hand presses against your cheek, tilting your head back so you’re meeting his gaze, “My name is Fox. I am the patron god of the forgotten and the abused.” Something like malice slides across his face, “I do not think they meant to summon me.”

Even with the malice rolling off of him in waves, you’re still not afraid of him.

Then he smiles at you, soft and warm, and he lightly presses his lips against your forehead, “All will be well. I promise.” The flames finally die down and Fox helps you off the bed and stands you behind him. “Stay behind me, ad’ika.”

You nod mutely and cower behind him.

Director Frosch and Doctor Kelb step into the circle, “Finally.” The director says, “Proof.”

Fox gazes at them dispassionately.

“We are the ones who summoned you,” Doctor Kelb says, “You have to obey us.”

“Oh? I didn’t see you in the summoning circle,” Fox replies.

The two adults share a look before the Director clears his throat, “We are at war, we need your expertise to destroy our enemies.”

Fox smiles, “I am a god of war.”

“Yes! So you can kill our enemies for us-”

“I am not a god of slaughter.” Fox interrupts.

“Then…then you can tell us strategies to help us win-”

“I am not a strategic god.”

“Then who-?”

Fox advances on them, “I am a god of war. I am every mother who has lost her son. Every wife who has lost her husband. Every orphaned child.” He pauses and glances at you, “...every sacrifice. Everyone who has been forgotten and abused.”

The protective circle crumbles, not meant to hold the will of a deity, and the people who kidnapped you scramble back as shadows pool at Fox’s feet.

“How dare you call on me.”

You see the shadows sliding across the floor, and you slam your eyes shut as the shadows lift from the ground. This isn’t for your eyes. Even though you can’t see what’s happening, you can hear it.

Screaming, and begging, and the sound of something sharp cutting through flesh.

And then-

Silence.

The silence is almost deafening, and you only open your eyes when you feel those cool fingers against your face again.

“They will never harm you, or anyone else, again,” Fox says. There’s blood splattered on his face, and you use the corner of the blanket to reach up and wipe the blood off of his face.

His gaze softens as he watches you.

“What happens now?” You ask.

Fox hums thoughtfully as he takes your hand in his, “I have never had a priestess before. Though, I’ve also never had a priest before either. People generally aren’t fool enough to summon me.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shh.” He presses his finger against your lips, “I know you didn’t summon me. But, you are mine. Mine to protect, mine to hold, mine to love.”

Your face heats at his words. Not that you’re complaining. You feel drawn to him, and you wonder if the ritual had something to do with that. But it doesn’t matter. Not really.

You don’t want to leave his side.

Fox moves his finger from your lips and leans in so his lips are hovering over yours, “I should finish the claiming,” He murmurs, chuckling as you try to lean in to kiss him, “But we’re not safe yet. And I want to take my time with claiming you.”

He pulls away and you make a disappointed noise.

Fox chuckles, “Patience, ner ad’ika. When we’re safe, I will give you everything you want and more.”

You try to hide your disappointment, but you must not do a great job of it, as Fox leans in and trails his lips from your ear to your jaw. It’s like shooting electricity down your spine.

He chuckles, “Oh, ad’ika, I am going to have fun playing with you.” Fox pulls away, “Is there someone safe in this building?”

“Um…Senator Organa is a good man.” You say, your face heated from embarrassment. 

“Then we should go to him.”

“W-wait! We can’t walk through the Senate naked!” You blurt.

Fox pauses and glances at you, and then down at himself, “I suppose you have a point. Can you get him here?”

“If I can find a phone, yes.” You step out of the ritual circle, and make a face at the bodies, “Gross.”

“They insulted me.” Fox says as he sits on the stone bed you were just chained to, “They’re lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“Ah, found one!” You pick up a working phone and dial a number you know by heart, “Uh…what should I say about you?” You ask as the phone starts ringing. 

Fox just shrugs and leans back slightly, his dark eyes locked on you, an almost hungry look on his face.

Slightly flustered, you turn away from him as your boss answers the phone. You give him a very abridged version of what happened, but you have the feeling that he knows something is wrong because he promises to be there immediately. 

“He’ll be here in a bit.”

Fox hums, and pats the stone bed next to him, “How about you tell me exactly what’s happening here?”

“I can do that.” You move to sit next to him, only for him to pull you onto his lap and bury his face in your neck. 

Absently, you wrap your arms around him and play with his curls at the base of his neck as you start talking. You know that nothing is going to be the same now.

You hope your mother will forgive you.

[buthowboutno]

HELLO I'm new to asking things here but I've a small,,, tiiny question that idk if anyone's asked before or not but

What happened at metro tower between sweets and Leo? And, I suppose, with everyone else there, if anyone (like April) recognized Sweets

Because Donnie didn't, Raph and Mikey didn't say anything,,,

Leo and April are the only two that basically said "oh! You're the kid that almost died while we saved the world" so Idk I kind of was curious on, I guess

Like other than, obviously, Leo saving sweets but I guess how he found them? Because I know it's stated somewhere Sweets locked themselves in their moms office but idk

You don't gotta answer this at all (especially if it's a stupid question 💀💀) I just I got myself curious ig

this ask prompted me to write a whole ass snippet about what happened. i blame you. /aff

(snippet under the cut)

If it had been up to Splinter, Leo wouldn’t even be five feet away from his cot in the med bay, much less searching through the remains of Metro Tower. Mikey was still out of commission and Drax was doing some weird mystic ritual on Donnie to help with his head.

If it had been up to Leo, Raph would be in the med bay instead of digging through rubble by his side. April tagged along as well, but she was a floor below looking for… something.  

Leo might have been too ticked off about April and Raph bulldozing his plan to listen beyond every fifth word of their justification.

(Didn’t they know that this was Leo’s—?)

(After all that, they still trust—?)

They hadn’t found any survivors since the first day of searching, when Donnie passed out after manifesting a mystic slide for a group of harried interns that were stuck on the third floor. Mikey’s hands had cramped up so bad after guiding the lone barista out from their cupboard on the second floor that he was still having trouble holding a fork.

Leo wasn’t even sure why he insisted on coming back, to be honest. After four days trapped in this building, there was a good chance that any stragglers would have died of dehydration by now. Donnie’s scans, at least, didn’t show anyone in the building that they didn’t get out already.

Leo just… had this feeling. He couldn’t explain it.

Raph jumped up and tapped the big red ‘5’ hanging from the ceiling before the stairwell, startling Leo out of his thoughts. Under his massive hands, the sign crumbled off of the wall.

“Uh, whoops?” Raph said, looking sheepish as he turned towards Leo.

Leo snorted, “Property destruction. Nice.”

“That was… not my fault,” Raph said, his face screwed up as he stepped towards the stairs, “This whole buildin’ is— "

The floor creaked dangerously beneath Raph’s feet, prompting him to stumble backwards out of the stairwell. Leo took a few tentative steps forward, noting the slight shift in the floor but otherwise no other changes beneath his feet.

��Falling apart,” Leo finished, jumping up and down for good measure. No change, but Leo didn’t like the cracks slowly making their way up the walls.

“Maybe it's time to head back?” Raph suggested gently, taking another scared step backwards when the floor started creaking again, “Raph is getting a little geeked out.”

Leo nodded, taking a step towards Raph before he was struck with this urgent feeling in his chest. Like he had left something behind.

“I’m gonna take a quick look around,” Leo said, stepping back into the stairwell, “You’d better go back down and grab April.”

“Leo–”

“I’ll portal out if the building starts falling down, scouts honor,” Leo said before ducking up the stairs. Raph’s responding groan told Leo that Raph wasn’t going to march up there and grab him. Probably more due to the fact that the stairs would give out underneath him, but Leo would take what he could get.

(Leo was going to be majorly cussed out about this stunt when he got back.)

(Worth it.)

(At least, he hoped it was.)

The sixth floor of Metro Tower, surprise surprise, was functionally identical to floors two through five. The building was mostly leased out to a bunch of different companies doing Spirits knows what in their copy and paste cubicles. 

(They didn’t find any survivors above floor twelve. Leo tried not to think about it.)

Leo raided a few of the fancier looking offices, sending various pieces of tech back to Donnie’s lab through mini-portals. Bribery, maybe, but mostly practice. Leo’s portals had felt off since the–

…Yeah. He needed the practice.

Leo heard a muffled shout from down the hallway, immediately pulling out his second katana and running quietly towards the noise.

Leo noticed the kid first. They had dustpans duct taped to their chest and back like some budget LARPer. They held a yardstick out with a broken pair of scissors haphazardly attached to the end, trembling like Mikey after a fourth cup of coffee. A Kraang zombie shuffled towards them, its face half-melted at this point. 

Why was it still–?

Leo needed to tell the others about this. Donnie was positive that everyone who got infected would’ve been released after they closed the portal to Kraang Prime. This was– this wasn’t a good sign.

The kid shouted at the zombie like they were trying to scare off a bear and tossed a stapler at its head. Decent shot, but ultimately useless. The stapler landed on the zombie’s head and was slowly absorbed into the Kraang viscera protruding from its skull. 

The kid yelped, moment of bravery apparently lost, and ran in Leo’s direction.

Leo recognised that face. It was just a passing photo, something Casey swiped past while stammering about nerd shit like the ‘space-time continuum.’

(Donnie’s influence, no doubt. Leo may have been Casey’s sensei, but Donnie tended to infect people with his intelligence.)

This kid was younger than the photos, though. Their hair was cut short just above their ears, and the dark circles under their eyes told Leo that they hadn’t been getting much in the way of water or sleep since the invasion started.

That half second of thought cost Leo his chance to take down the zombie before it lunged at them.

The kid, thankfully, heard the zombie before it had the chance to grab them and whirled around with their makeshift spear. Their jab landed solidly in the zombie’s chest, but that still didn’t stop it. The zombie's neck craned out in a truly unnatural manner and bit the kid’s hand while it was still holding their spear. The kid let out a painful shriek that rattled inside of Leo’s skull.

That finally spurred Leo into action, sprinting on the front pads of his feet and slashing the zombie clean into three pieces. The body hit the ground without so much as a tentacle reaching out in protest.

The kid fell to the floor, eyes open with fear as they held out their left hand. The mutagen had already started spreading, past their second knuckle already, but it was moving slower than when–

Leo should’ve thought a little harder before he let his reflexes take over. In a second, he sliced off the kid’s pinky and ring finger before the mutagen had a chance to reach their palm. 

They screamed out in pain, immediately clutching their left hand to their chest and staring up at Leo with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Leo tried, “I’m here to help.”

Their face was quickly turning white from the blood loss, but the look on their face made Leo think that they’d still try to stab him if he came any closer.

He’d probably deserve it, to be honest, but the kid needed a hospital above anything else. Leo reached down and grabbed the kid before they could fight back. He quickly sliced a portal through the wall and walked out onto the sidewalk in front of Metro Tower. With two more twirls of his katana, April and Raph were standing right next to him.

Leo tried not to think about the ache in his chest after opening up those portals. He pushed the pain out of the back of his mind as he focused on putting pressure on the kid's hand.

“What the–?”

“Med kit, now,” Leo demanded, not even looking at Raph. The kid was trying to wriggle out of Leo’s grasp, but the blood loss was obviously starting to get to them.

Raph wordlessly took the kit from his belt and handed it over. April was standing behind him in shock, hands twitching as if she was trying to figure out what to do.

“Fucking… wizard,” the kid stammered, now clutching onto Leo instead of fighting him, “My g-goddamn hand.”

“You’re welcome, pal,” Leo said flatly. He dumped the travel bottle of rubbing alcohol on their hand haphazardly before wrapping it up as tightly as he could.

“Eat my ass, Dr. Strange,” the kid muttered before looking up at Leo with a sudden and unusual clarity, “I think I’m going to pass out now.”

“Wh– no, wait!” Leo protested before the kid slumped fully into his arms.

That must’ve rattled April out of whatever funk she was in. She reached into the med kit and grabbed one of the instant cold packs, harshly squeezing and then shaking it to activate it.

“They’re going into shock,” she said, leaning down to apply the pack to the back of the kid’s neck, “Leo, can you portal–?”

The moment April touched the kid, Leo was sent into the mindscape. It wasn’t the same as a normal ninja mindmeld; typically, Leo was still able to see through the eyes of his physical body while it happened. This was like his entire consciousness was captured and taken somewhere else.

Leo turned his head to the left and saw April standing next to him, her eyes trained on something else. 

Donnie? No, not Donnie.

Not his Donnie.

This Donnie was… older. Scarred. Taller than Leo thought his twin could ever grow to be. He didn’t speak a single word, just held Leo’s gaze with an intense expression and nodded.

Leo understood, in a split-second, that the kid in his arms was precious. They were family. The pull, the call that compelled Leo back to Metro Tower was more than an antsy feeling driving him out of his cot. 

This… this was one last wish of a doomed timeline.

Leo also understood that if he let this kid bleed out on the streets of New York, the ghost of Donnie future wouldn’t let him sleep peacefully for the rest of his life.

“April? Leo?” Raph asked, his tone incredibly concerned as Leo snapped back to reality.

“Donnie called them ‘Sweets’,” Leo murmured under his breath.

“...What?”

Leo shook his head, clearing the images from his mind, “Right. Let’s go.”

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 10 - Paranoia

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that."

~*~

Mystic

Tikki works on her own omelet in comfortable silence, letting her guest relax by the fire while she filled her own egg patty with her additions of choice. Once her folded egg taco was on the plate, she drizzled some kind of red liquid over top of it, and took up those metal tools he could never quite understand the purpose of. Lifting her plate, she goes to sit at the couch, and- uses the tiny knife and spoked thing to poke and cut her omelet, eating it off the utensils.

Oh. That’s what they were for. She didn’t need to get food on her hands at all.

…

“Have you been on the streets your whole life?” Tikki asks, quiet.

Spooky

He looks up from watching her cut the omelet and poke it with the pronged thing, before frowning a little and shaking his head no.

No, being on the streets was a relatively new thing for him. In a way, he had kind of lucked out that adaptability was part of his training, otherwise he may not've survived very long, but... This probably wasn't what they had in mind while training him. It was more for use in battle.

He glances down at the floor in front of him, wishing he still had the snow and stick to help him explain things. The best thing he could do for now, though, was try and sum up everything he could into one word, and force it out of his uncooperative throat.

"L.. ll- laa... b," he rasps, looking back at her.

Mystic

Tikki, who had been mid-bite of her own omelet, chokes on the piece of food. She has to pound on her chest for a second before the food is dislodged, and she can breathe again.

In just one word, that was- quite a bit of information to swallow. Just like her omelet.

"I'm- hkf- sorry," Tikki apologizes, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "You- wh- but- how-? You came from a lab? Excuse me? As in- wait-"

She frowns, staring into space. He can see it in her eyes- she was putting together a lot of puzzle pieces. She sets aside the plate, losing her appetite in this moment.

"...that- suddenly a lot of things make sense. But- why were you in a lab?"

Spooky

He looked alarmed when she choked on her food, but once she'd dealt with that enough to ask him more questions, he ducked his head slightly and slid his hand over the nape of his neck. He gave a small shrug, mainly because he didn't know how he'd got there. He couldn't really remember being anywhere else, leading him to think that maybe he was born there…? Though there were some things he could just barely recall that seemed to contradict that.

He knew what trees were, before he’d even escaped. They'd never let him outside, not once, but he could picture outside, sometimes in dreams... And there were other things, too. Faded voices and shapes, and strong emotions attached that left him feeling lost, scared, and like he'd been hollowed out whenever he thought about it too hard.

So usually, he didn't.

All he had for an answer as to why he was there was what they were developing him for.

"...w... wepn," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the burning fireplace.

Mystic

...There's a long pause.

Even though he wasn't facing her, he could feel her eyes boring into him. Analyzing.

Behind his back, the scales on the back of Tikki's arm start to stand on end. She clasps at her forearms with her hands, clenching her jaw as she wills the beast back into the depths, forcing the scales back down.

The thought, and all the implications it carried, made her so, so angry. But she just got back to normal from a shift- if she let it happen again so soon, it would exhaust her. She'd be so depleted of energy that she wouldn't want to move for a week, and she wasn't in a position to let that happen anymore.

"...Okay," she says, finally. A brief, forceful exhale as she quells her outrage for his sake. "I see why you ran away, now."

Tikki puts her chin in one hand, thinking. Then her eyes flick to the door. Then back to him in worry.

"...Am I gonna get in trouble with the law or something if someone finds out you're in my house? Are YOU in trouble with whoever you ran from?"

Not that she was particularly bothered by the idea of someone reprehensible showing up at the door. She'd welcome the opportunity to feed someone a knuckle sandwich and have it be sweet justice. But not at the cost of somebody else being put in danger.

Spooky

Feeling her staring, he glanced back at her, worried he'd made her angry at him. He could sense the tension, and his eyes turned downwards as he fidgeted with his hands.

Her questions didn't assuage his nerves any, either... because he had, if only for a brief time due to the distractions and curious things in this house, forgotten he was being hunted.

He was hesitant to answer, worried that confirming this fact would get him thrown out. Tikki was nice, but to get involved in anything like this seemed like too much to ask of anyone.

He didn't know what this 'law' was, but he knew the Aria Corporation was big, and they had a lot of resources. Hell, their damn logo still haunted him whenever he sneaked into town, never truly letting him forget that he wasn't safe.

...It wasn't fair not to tell her, though. To not at least try and warn her about what she was getting into if she let him stay in her home.

Looking conflicted, he finally nodded. Setting aside his disc, he reached down and tried to trace a shape on the rug with his finger, but it wasn't very clear.

Mystic

A long, sad sigh.

"...ok. I figured."

Tikki glances at the rug, leaning to see what he was drawing- but she couldn't make anything out from here. Hm. Maybe he was just doodling from the stress. She did sorta put him on the spot, all of the sudden.

"...well, I'm not going to just let you freeze to death in the snow," she says, frowning. "And whoever uses a kid test subject for scientific experiments is super fucked up, I'll tell you that."

Standing up from the couch, she moves to sit on the rug next to him, scooting a bit closer so she's near enough for expression of comfort, but just at the edge of his personal space. She looks down at the carpet as she talks, idly trying to decipher his finger-drawing on the floor.

"I don't have much to offer, Sticks. I do have a roof, and food, sometimes. I don't make a lot of money, and I'm dealing with my own demons- but I'd still like to help you, somehow. If you want it?"

Spooky

He doesn't seem able to get the tracing of his finger across, so he stops. The best that could be deciphered from it was that he seemed to be writing an 'A' for part of it. If he was trying to make a word, though, the rest of the scrawl was incomprehensible. There didn't seem to be any other letters, and even the A was kind of questionable.

He looked unsure at her offer, not because he was keen on turning his figurative nose up at it though. Moreso, he was worried. She already had stress from turning into the silver beast, and didn't have much money, and... he didn't know what 'demons' were, but that didn't sound good either.

...

But at the same time, he didn't wanna go back to taking his chances in that hole in the ground. Not after he knew what being in a warm house on a soft rug, with not one but TWO blankets was like.

His eyes searched her expression. She really did seem to want to help...

He hugged his pillow close and gave a little nod, before resting his chin on it.

Mystic

He feels more than sees her hand clasp onto his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before letting go.

"Okay," she says, offering him a little smile. "I'll do what I can."

Tikki leans back to the couch again, and takes her plate with the half-eaten omelet. She sets it on the carpet and slides it over to him, letting it rest by his knee.

"Here- you can have the rest of mine. I wasn't very hungry, anyway."

A lie. Shifting consumed a lot of calories she had to replenish, which she had every intention of doing so later when he was asleep or something. But right now, she lost her appetite. At least this way the food wouldn't go to waste.

Tikki stands up, stretching her shoulders and wiggling her webbed toes.

"I don't know a lot about you, and that's fine- you don't have to share what you don't want to." Tikki scratches behind her head, starting back towards the kitchen to start cleaning. "Just let me know how I can best help you, alright?"

Spooky

He looked from the offered omelet half to her, before he picked it up with his hand and stuffed it in his mouth, licking the remaining red sauce off his fingers. This had a different taste than his, but was still good!

He didn't seem as keen to get up, covered in fluffy blankets as he was. While he wasn't full, his stomach was no longer empty, and going from being outside in the snow with almost no clothes for most of the day to taking a hot bath and sitting all bundled up next to a roaring fireplace... Sleepiness was definitely setting in, and his eyelids drooped.

He nodded in response to her, rubbing at one of his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Th... thanks," he said, straining to try and be louder since she had walked back to the kitchen. Oof, probably wasn't the best idea. Fuck, he wished he could figure out how to fix his broken voice. It'd been a long time since he'd heard what it sounds like normally, but he knew it wasn't supposed to sound like this.

Mystic

Tikki glances back in his direction at the sound of the voice crack. Ouch. That sounded very unpleasant. Did speaking cause him pain? Maybe his throat was damaged from... whatever happened to him in the 'lab'.

She tried not to think about it. He wasn't there, now.

"It's no trouble," she says, offering another smile as she removes the pan to wash it. "Nobody should have to live on the street- especially not kids."

In the background, Tikki quietly goes about making some hot apple cider. It was just a cheap packet mix, but it was easy, and fast. The water boils gently on the stove while she cleans up the containers of omelet fillings, and puts away all the washed dishes once she'd dried them with a kitchen towel.

She is left to ponder in silence for a while. He'd never seen silverware, didn't know how to feed or take care of himself. Laboratories that tested on humans- at least, he might be human, she really wasn't sure- evidently still existed, and were doing shady shit like turning children into weapons. That was the most she could ascertain from his broken speech and limited information. Whoever was responsible, they were probably out looking for this kid. And if she was caught with him in custody, if she was lucky, she'd be left alone- but he would no doubt be taken back to whatever hell he endured.

She had seen the rocky injuries all over his back. She couldn't begin to comprehend what would cause that. It looked a little better after he was able to bathe, but there was still a substantial amount of rock crust covering his spine. She was hesitant to touch it, or ask about it in case it was sensitive.

Steam hisses from the kettle, and she turns off the stove burner. Water is poured into mugs, and Tikki shakes out the cider mix into the mugs, pouring honey into both. Stirring them with spoons, she walks back out into the living room to check on him.

"I've got hot cider, for your throat," she says, rounding the couch.

Spooky

He looked like he'd gone into almost a kind of sleepy trance, watching the flames dance on the logs...

But he perked back up a little when Tikki returned with- Oh! He'd seen these before, sometimes he would see people at the lab walking or standing around with these little handled cylinders in their hands, usually in the hallways when he was being transported to another area. He never knew what was in them, but they had a nice smell...

These smelled good too, but in a different way. When Tikki handed one over to him, he took it and held it in both hands, peering down at the unfamiliar drink. Unsure how to proceed, he dipped his tongue into it to give it a taste.

Mystic

The immediate taste was sweet, with a hint of spice that wasn't quite the same as the red thing he ate earlier. What did Tikki call it? 'Pepper'? This was different. It was hot, though, and the little bit he managed to swallow off his own tongue actually soothed his aching throat a little, more than water had up until this point.

Tikki, seeing this, chuckles into her own mug that she had just lifted to her face.

"Okay, that was pretty cute," she says, snickering. "And you have a lava tongue?? Weird, and cool. But yeah- you drink it like this."

Tikki demonstrates, holding the mug in her hands up to her chin and tipping it back a little, taking a gulp of the liquid inside before tipping it back down, swallowing with a satisfied exhale.

"It has honey in it, which is a natural remedy for throat problems," she explains, sipping more of her own drink before continuing. "I've had to use it before when shifting damaged my voice for a day or two. Should help, I think. And if it gets too cold, you can always reheat it."

Spooky

He flushed with a faint glow at her comments, but did his best to mimic the demonstration, slowly tipping and attempting a sip with a noisy slurp.

...Holy shit! A way to drink without getting it all over himself! He looked down at the mug with big eyes full of wonder. This was awesome!

He was quick to drink the rest of it down, steam spilling from his mouth when he lowered the mug and exhaled afterwards. The honey coated his throat, making it feel less sore after his attempts to talk. His glowing tongue poked out again, licking his lips.

Mystic

Another chuckle from Tikki.

"I mean this in the best way- you're like a big puppy," she jokes, watching the steam puff up towards her ceiling. "A lanky, fire-breathing puppy."

Sipping her cider, she sighs, getting up from the carpet one last time.

"You look ready to pass out, so I'm going to let you rest. You can use the couch, or stay on the carpet, whatever you feel like- sleep well, Sticks."

And with that, she walks off to the rest of her house, presumably to wind down for the rest of her afternoon. It wasn't far past midday, but she'd had an exhausting morning, and she figured he did as well.

Spooky

His expression briefly turned to confusion as he tried to figure out what a puppy was, but he shrugged it off, setting down the now empty mug. He was very sleepy, and probably would've been content to just sleep next to the fireplace, though without anything to prop him up he kept slowly listing to the side until he'd jerk back upright with a start.

He let out a tired grumble and crawled like a blankety slug across the floor until he was at the couch, where he leaned back against the side of it. It was definitely softer than the dirt had been, and the blankets added extra cushioning. Hugging the pillow close, he curled up and rested his head on it, so cozy that he drifted off in no time.

...

"You really thought you could just leave... Didn't you?"

His eyes shot open at the familiar cold voice of the ponytailed man, Dr. Rainer... but he didn't see him anywhere when he looked around the living room. It was nighttime now and the fireplace had gone out, bathing the room in darkness, and any warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house along with it.

Then, a red dot appeared in the window. Followed by another, then another, and they continued to multiply until they were peering in through every window, swarming, a buzzing sound reverberating off the walls and leaving him rattled. Drones.

With a smash of glass they set upon him, giving him barely even any time to stand before they were already on him, a writhing mass of buzzing motors and claw arms, reaching and scratching and grabbing. He managed to fight back, blasting them with fire and setting his fists crunching into metal when they got too close, but there were always more to take their place.

"No matter where you scurry off to, you can never truly abandon your purpose. You know that, don't you?"

Metal parts crunched underfoot as he continued to doggedly fight against a neverending onslaught, pouring in through the windows like wasps from a nest.

Suddenly, another piercing pain lanced through the back of his neck, near the base of his skull, his vision blurring and going white for a few moments as he was brought to his hands and knees.

When he opened his eyes again, the drones were gone, and the room was quiet... But as he remained there, trying to catch his breath, he realized something very quickly. He couldn't move.

"Stand."

To his dawning horror, he stood up. Without trying to. His body was moving without his input. His eyes wouldn't even budge when he tried to look around.

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that. Now... Destroy."

NO!

It was too late. Fire sparked and climbed up his limbs, engulfing his body in flames that started to catch on the floor around him. He raised his arms and sent blasts of fireballs careening around him, smashing walls and furniture, anything not annihilated on impact would perish in the blaze... The walls buckled in the inferno. Chunks of ceiling fell. This house was done for, and everyone in it, including Tikki.

And as he distantly heard her screams, he felt...

nothing.

-!!!

Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes opened for real this time and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, prompting a coughing fit. Smoke spiraling out of his mouth, he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings.

Mystic

The house is quiet. Besides his panting breaths and his heart trying to decide if it wanted to break his ribcage and escape, there was no sound beyond the distant hum of the heater in the walls. The fire- which appeared to have had an extra log placed on it at some point- had burned low until all that was left were charred husks, and a pile of glowing embers. It produced only a faint pop and hiss, along with the lightest aura of remaining warmth.

The house is dark. Just like in his nightmare- but there's no voice to taunt him in the shadows. The windows, which had been an open view out into the world, were covered by thick drawn curtains. Nothing could see inside, not even the searching cameras of the drones he knew were looking for him out in the city. No light is leaking past the borders of those curtains, either. He'd passed out somewhere around noon. Had he slept so long that it was nighttime?

The house is empty. Tikki is nowhere to be seen. A door at the far end of the corridor across the living room is shut. Perhaps she was there, or perhaps she left.

A hand flies quickly to the back of his neck-

-and he feels nothing. No robotic devices, no grasping claw-like limbs, no collar, and no needle stabbing into his skin. All that he finds is... the pre-existing injection site, that had long since healed over.

He was alone with his blankets and his pillow, a dying fire in the fireplace, and the lingering terror of the nightmare.

Spooky

Despite the realization that it had been a bad dream, and that there were no threats in sight, he still felt almost afraid to move for a while. He pulled the blankets up around him like it was a barrier, camouflage to hide him from whatever lurked through his imagination.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep. Not without making sure everything was okay... So holding the pillow and clutching one of the blankets around him, he got up and checked the perimeter, wandering through the living room and down the hall, peeking in through the doors just to be safe.

Mystic

…So far, everything seemed to be clear.

The kitchen still smelled like the food Tikki made earlier - ‘om-lets’, or something. The burners in the stove were off, and all the dishes had been cleaned and returned to their rightful places.

The living room was the same. The book he picked up still sat haphazardly on the stack when he set it aside. The fire was still dying, the firewood stack neatly piled.

The windows were unshattered; no glass or broken drones littered the floor from his imagined combat. Peeking beyond the curtains showed a gentle fall of snow from the sky, and a dark, starless night filled with clouds.

…

Paying close attention to the house let him notice a few things. The scratches from the driveway were present here, too- they had been spackled and repaired wherever possible, but the signs of wear persisted. Wooden furniture was bent or scored in places, as if something big had clumsily scraped by it. These must be the signs of whenever Tikki transforms against her will, identical to what he found outside. This was a small abode to contain the oversized- whatever it is she turns into.

The door at the end of the hall has the most prominent damage, where the frame is buckled up and outward in a couple places, and the hinges had been repaired multiple times.

What did she say again? ’Shifting outside sucks because she can’t fit through the door,’ or something.

…There’s a faint buzzing sound coming from the door. She was probably asleep, oblivious to his nighttime panic.

Spooky

The sound was sort of like the breathing noises she made while asleep as the silver beast, but smaller... It wasn't like the buzz of drones, this was far less harsh and only happened at intervals instead of continuously. Still, just in case, he listened for a bit, before gathering up the nerve to open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Mystic

The inside of Tikki’s room was also dark, all lights in the room turned off save for a single lamp in the shape of a spiny fish plugged into a wall socket. There were more plants in hanging pots, some with flowers that wafted a sweet scent. A fan overhead spun in a slow circle. Against one wall was a tank full of water, plants, pebbles, and several small fish that flitted about once the light from his eyes was upon them. A filter hummed quietly on the tank, the only other notable sound in the room.

On the bed was Tikki, fast asleep. She was haphazardly wrapped in a thick blanket of her own, and what was visible of her arms and legs was covered in some sort of cloth outfit with more fish stitched onto it. She had a book open next to her on the bed. Thin red lines on the sides of her neck produced the buzzing sound he’d been hearing, every time she breathes. Was that how she snores?

The fish in the tank all swim at once towards the corner nearest the bed, swimming frantically at the tank glass.

Tikki grunts, her snore sputtering as she reaches up and rubs at her face with one hand. Moving to sit up, she looks first towards the tank. A pause, ear fins twitching, before she looks towards the door. The mermaid squints, her eyes reflecting the light from the doorway as she sleepily processes.

”Nghf- Sticks…? I see… your eyes glowing.”

Spooky

The glowing eyes peering from the doorway glance to the side self-consciously and duck behind the door, though after a few moments, one came peeking back into view.

Yeah, she'd seen him, there was no point hiding. The door opened more and he stood in the threshold, huddled in his blanket, his tallness diminished in appearance somewhat by his nervous, slumped posture. He squeezed his pillow underneath his arm.

"S... sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the fish tank filter. "Checking... if safe." The honey must have helped somewhat, that was the most talking he'd managed in one go since they'd met!

Mystic

There's a pause as Tikki's sleepy brain works its way through what he just said.

"Oh..." she mumbles, yawning- and revealing a mouth absolutely full of sharp teeth. "It's... ok, Sticks. It's just you, me, and the guppies... they started yellin' the moment you-" another yawn "-opened the door."

She rubs at her face again, this time with both hands.

"You gonna- be ok...? Can you go back- to sleep...?"

Spooky

Guppies? He looked at the fish in the tank, though he hadn't heard them make any noise, let alone yell. He blinked, but turned his attention back to Tikki.

He nodded, but it was clear by how he was carrying himself that he was hesitant to go back to sleep. He was still tired, but fear had put him in a state of alertness despite that. Backing up from the door, he turned to go back down the hall. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least keep watch...

Mystic

"Wait."

Tikki grunts, scooting to the edge of her bed and rolling her legs over the side. She adjusts the sleeves of her colorful cloth attire, and digs around in her blankets. She removes something lumpy and plush from the bundle of blankets, standing up to approach the door.

"Here," Tikki says, holding out the object to him. "Holding this helped me relax when I first started living on land instead of the sea."

It was a stuffed lizard of some sort, but it had tiny plush spines on its back and a little pair of plush wings. Fabric fangs poked out of a sewn mouth underneath tiny black bead eyes.

"His name is Slithers. Maybe he'll help you feel safe, too."

Spooky

His glowing eyes blinked in the dark like two half-covered spotlights as he picked up the little soft... creature? He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem to be alive. It appeared to be made out of the same kind of soft stuff the pillow was. The fabric that made up its plush hide had some kind of a spotted pattern that glimmered in the light of his eyes, like scales. Whatever this fake creature was, its appearance was endearing, and he smiled a little despite his anxiety.

He nestled it between the pillow and his body and gave a little nod to Tikki in thanks.

As he made his way back to the couch, he thought about what Tikki had said. She used to live in the sea... But what was that, exactly? A different town? He wondered how often she had to move. She had to hide too, right? If people found him scary to look at, they would absolutely find the silver beast to be scarier...

Getting to the couch, he took another look around the room. Still all clear. He was about to settle back down where he'd been before, when he stopped, noticing how his hand sunk down on the cushion of the couch when he started to kneel down on the rug. His eyes widened, and he squished the cushion with his hand.

This thing had pillows on it!

He got back up, and almost as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this or not, he cautiously sat on the couch instead, curling up in the crook of the couch's arm. It felt like he had more defenses this way, being in a corner- and it was a very soft and squishy corner. It was like he was gonna sink into it, but he didn't- not enough to be alarming, anyway. This was a good spot...

Snuggling down in the blankets all curled up and hugging his legs, with the pillow and plush sandwiched between the front of his torso and the back of his thighs, he sat there in quiet comfort until he finally began to doze off again...

Mystic

...This time, he's unbothered by nightmares, or even dreams. The comforting blackness of exhaustion envelops him, and for now, he's allowed to sleep in the peaceful silence of nothingness.

~*~

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

New reader? You can start here!

[thesharktanksdriver]

Magical Girl in Gotham (Platonic)

Part 1 Part 2 part 4

Sorry for the repeating lines of there are any, it’s tumblrs fault

Tag list: @harpy-space

Mention in the comment if u wanna be tagged for the next part :]

You drift between the world of conscious and unconscious, the Dream world and the waking world

For once you felt yourself dream, seeing the images of all those who had filled your once lonely life with joy

At point in your life you forgot to just sleep, to finally rest and not to worry for the next day

You were always so preoccupied with getting rid of a new batch of Shadowmites the next night or school or rent that sleep felt more like a chore

Wasted hours to be doing something important despite how Rigel told you it was unhealthy to avoid it

So for now you sleep and you enjoy it as you occasionally sense the distant feeling of someone sitting at your side

When you eventually do wake up your met with the sensation of warm blankets (compared to your thin ones) and a hand pressed against your forehead

When your eyes flutter open you see the sight of Jason, surprise in his face as you look up at him

You can’t get a word out before he’s hugging you tightly, mumbling “Jesus don’t ducking scare me like that. Thank whatever god there is that your ok”

He stays that way for a minute and you soak it up, noticing how he was wearing the uniform of red hood but without the mask

It doesn’t really surprise you but it now makes sense as to why you had a vague sense of familiarity when meeting him

That also answered who the rest of the bat crew was

When he pulls back he sees your stare down towards the large red bat symbol on his chest. “I had the feeling you rich people were crazy, but not crazy enough to be vigilantes to be honest. Seems like those online forums were right about you guys not being normal” whatever worry fades away at that comment

His laugh is loud and seems to echo out into the hallway through the opened door, footsteps quickly make their way towards the room

Damien bursts in, an unfamiliar teary look in his normally composed eyes

Jason has barely any time to pull a few feet away before his younger brother is repeating what he had done earlier

Damien’s gripping you as if he was afraid that when he pulled away you’d suddenly disappear

You hug your friend back, noticing the rest of the family peak in and be somewhat agast at the sight

Turns out you have a lot of explaining to do and so do they

Bruce/Batman himself is honestly disappointed in himself that you’d been doing this for years yet he had not even fucking know about it up till now

Even more so that Jason and Dick knew and didn’t tell him that an actual child is running around at night killing mystical creatures

He actually apologies to you personally that he should’ve noticed, but you quickly shoot that down telling him that was kinda what you didn’t want

Like him you set out on this mission to do it practically alone, you never intended to make friends along the way but somehow you did

He now knows why he saw himself in your eyes, you were him when he started off. Someone who was blinded by their goal of protecting others that they did not care for themself

He asks again if your parents know and now you answer honestly

You didn’t have any. You lived alone in a crappy apartment and barely got rent in on time

You see the looks given by all of his sons, how it goes from you to their dad and then back to themselves

After finding this out Bruce probably teaches you some more self defence since you only taught yourself through experience

He’s a good teacher, finding out what your strong suits are and helping you improve rapidly

Your style of fighting is a lot like dancing. Fluid motions and carefully placed steps, turns and pirouettes to dodge, quick attacks that happen within the blink of an eye

Your not like Jason or dick who can take large hits and can brute force their way though things. Your more agile and graceful

Bruce at some point helps make a schedule for you to properly balance your nightly duties and going to school

It’s much better than your own lol

Kinda feels better that most of the villains in this city absolutely love you and would protect you but also kinda worried cause they would literally kill for you

The only villains he actually trusts you with is the Gotham sirens and maybe Waylon on a good day

You’ve cause him to get so many extra grey hairs after hearing what you eat on a daily basis

How do you the energy to run around Gotham every night while surviving on cup noodles?!??

One time y’all appeared at a McDonald’s it was all over Twitter in the matter of minutes cause you have a cute magical girl and then Batman looming beside them as you asked for a nugget meal and ice cream for him

Sometimes he’ll be beating a villain and you’ll briefly stop by and everything is out on pause as you say hi to both

Honestly it’s the funniest thing for bystanders to see especially when you say hi to John or Tim the goon

Your Twitter famous and you don’t even have Twitter

Clark is texting Bruce why “Batman”, “magical girl” and “McDonald’s” is trending on Twitter

Damien is kinda upset at first before realizing that would kinda be hypocritical and now he has more of an excuse to spend time with you

Two besties just chilling on a rooftop of Gotham while Riddler sulks in the background

He definitely gets protective over you even though you can handle a lot of stuff on your own

It’s mostly out of the fear of losing you. You serve as a symbol to him, a sign that his life has changed for the better and he’s truly happy

At first he doesn’t like his brothers hanging around you but comes to accept it. He was just kinda scared you’d like them over him and forget him

Has a constant glare and only you can decipher his actual emotions

Your his translator for poor Gordon. Like Damien says something mildly insulting and then your like “he means to say he likes your tie and you did a good job out there. Keep it up 👍 “

Your his impulse control from threatening people and breaking bones

He probably pressures Tim into making you a com

At some point he tells you about his grandfather and mom. That turns out be a interesting conversation especially when learning there’s just a magical life giving pool somewhere under Gotham

He’s such a little shit to people who make comments about your outfit

He’s tearing down their entire self esteem

God help the poor soul who decides cat calling or making weird comments about you cause it’s on sight for him

Bruce had to hold both him and Jason back from “having a polite talk” with the guy. Bruce does allow glaring and yelling though

Y’all probably become a duo that Gotham Twitter freaks out over

Like, people be now using you two as “bestie goals” and you do a double take when someone mentions it at school

When you once took him over to your apartment he visibly does a double take and asks how you live like this

Brags to his brothers all the time about how he’s your best friend so he’s the favourite (he is)

Ra’s Al Ghul is more confused than Clark when he gets reports his grandson suddenly is seen with that “magic girl?” He’s also gotten reports about and the two of you are building the Lego bonsai set on a rooftop

You got him into Lego and he now has his entire room full of them and boobytrapped

Dick has unfortunately been a victim to this

Jason almost kneeled over and died again out of worry when he had brought you half dead back to the manor

So it’s safe to say he’s very realized your ok and now also basically under the protection of the rest of the family

He may still have some grudges against Bruce but he does admit that he can teach you better than he could in most places

But what Bruce can’t teach you is how to shoot!

Yeah so…he had you use your magic weapon and turn it into a gun form and has you practice with him

Most villains audibly sigh in relief when seeing the two of you together cause that means their chances of a bullet lodged in their side or spine being crushed is better

Takes you on his motorcycle and it’s super fun

He gets you your own personalized helmet even though you can technically make one via magic

Y’all quote so much shit from books that Tim has begun to catalog it

Scary dog privileges number 3

Sometimes while on duty he’ll stop by at a few cute looking stores and buy you stuff he thinks you’ll like

You don’t tell him you have more than enough pens as he gifts you one with a cute topper

He swears to god if that fucking clown even breaths near you he’s dead and there’s nothing Bruce will do to be able to stop him

Damien would cheer on in the background if that happened

He kinda helps Damien realize and process that it’s ok for you to have other friends and that they won’t be stealing you away nor will you replace him

Both have a lot of emotional baggage and who better to help unpack that than him

Takes a lot of convincing to do so first

Loves the what we do in the shadows tv show and WILL make you watch it with him cause no one else will…along with rue Paul’s drag race

They say red hood now has a handmade bracket

Dick is so joking about how he and Jason knew you first to Damien and Bruce

100% tries to convince you to have your costume to match his for at least a night , if you do so he’ll be supper giddy and get soooo many picture

Your half convinced he has a scrapbook somewhere from how many photos you’ve seen him snap of Radom moments

He sometimes mentions Barbra Gordon and it’s giving you vibes

Keeps showing up while your trying to have a peaceful dinner at the iceberg lounge, penguin shoo’s him away calling him a pesky bird

He always replies back that “but your the bird here aren’t you?, in the wing-” And almost gets shot every single time

He seems kinda embarrassed when people joke about his dump-truck, whatever that meant. You just assume he fell into one or something and don’t get the actual meaning

By god he tries to keep your innocence in tact. There are so many creeps in Gotham and he does his best to protect you from them

There have been situations he’s covered your ears and sent out death glares that can make some of the worst villains shiver in fear

Might’ve let Jason break a guys arm once cause he kept making gross comments. Never told Bruce about it but kinda knows he’d get a slap on the wrist

Audibly makes a gasp when you use a cartwheel in a battle and has a proud big brother moment while clasping a hand over his heart

While your hunting for shadowmites he occasionally drops by to give you something like a smoothie for energy

Loves talking with you about the juiciest hero drama he’s heard within the week

Your not sure how he learns all of what he heard but he was a way

Will watch whatever show or movie you want no matter what age range it was intended for. Like he will watch pretty cute or sailor moon and get super invested to the point he’s buying merch for both of you

He now has a sailor Venus keychain and a matching sailor moon one for you

Definitely has mock fake lightsaber battles with your magical weapon and his batons

He always lets you win but you don’t need to know that

When this happens he also does the full 9 yards to make his “death” as dramatic as possible

Piggyback rides galore with This guy cause he finds it fun and uses it as some sort of weight training

Speaking of which you and Damian have sat on his back while he does pushups. You and Damien made the logo millennium falcon set

Brice walked in and then walked right back out

That happens more than most would assume

When he has video game tournaments with Jason and Tim, he gets you and Damien to be the referees

What he doesn’t know is that Damien is kinda bias to whoever didn’t annoy him that day

Meaning Dick is kinda on a loosing streak as of late compared to either brothers

Has already begun placing photos of you and the family on the wall

Alfred did a double take when he first saw it but then just smiled and went on with his business

Both you and him help Alfred with cooking

Sometimes he goes to really crappy stores and buys all the cheap bootleg hero figurines

Once they make one of you he’s gonna beg you to make your uniform match it for a night

Dear god he has so many nicknames that some villains are now gonna start mocking him by using them with you

He looked really upset when two face called you one of them and then laughed at how his face scrunched up

Tim buys you a proper phone so he can now text you at midnight lol

Even sets up a Twitter account for your hero persona and its now followed by most villains within the city lol

People now joke that at this point your gonna reform most of them before Batman can

Speaking of jokes he sends you memes constantly. Lien you’ll wake up with at least 2 unread messages from him that are just memes he found

He thinks the funniest are the cursed pictures of his family with shit like “bottom text” or “Sœp”

He’s kinda that guy you can go to talk to about anything cause he will 100% know it even if it’s the most obscure piece of media ever

In his spare time he watches those 5 hour long essay videos for fun as background noise

Please watch documentaries with him, doesn’t matter if their lighthearted or serious cause he just wants someone to watch with him

Speaking of which, if you do this with him he builds the most elaborate pillow forts known to man

Please encourage him to at least get 6 hours of sleep a night,the bags under his eyes are already bad enough

Won’t object if your ask to paint his nails or style his hair. He probably finds it somewhat relaxing especially if you talk to him about something while doing it

He rambled a lot about whatever he’s fixated on at the time, you don’t have to respond but just show him your listening and he’ll feel really happy

Totally brags about getting the feeling you were more than what you seemed lol

He sometimes secretly uses the bat computer to watch Netflix or Crunchyroll and play horror games. He says it adds ambiance to the experience

You walked in while he was playing phasmophobia and he screamed

He once used axe body spray and no one will let him live it down, he has his head in his hands as Jason recounts the story

Everyone dreads April fools cause of him and he’s recounted to you his various escapades

Your favourite is when he programmed the Batmobile’s honk into playing “Barbie girl”

He plays video games with you constantly. Doesn’t matter what game you wanna play cause he will find it

On patrol he’ll text you to see how your doing and if you need either him or anyone else to stop by

Else tells you to stay hydrated despite the fact he’s being a hypocrite

He patrols Twitter somehow while being a vigilante and gives people the ban hammer if he finds them being creepy

There is no mercy from him and they’ll have their account temporarily banned or in some cases deleted

He acts all innocent about it as well

Alfred is honestly just happy your ok and now have their support during your night duties

Like he knows your on good terms with most villains but it still gives him an extra layer of comfort that you know you can rely on them for help

Like mentioned before he already planning your room out before Bruce even signs those papers. He finds out what style of room you’d like, interests, favourite colour and goes to town on that interior design

He still packs you lunches but now he has added more foods that give more energy and protein

Whenever you try to help him out with anything other than some cooking and giving Bruce his tea/time coffee he will deny it

You have enough stress as it is you will not put more on your shoulders

Bakes a lot of fresh sweets with even fresher berries from his and Damien’s secret garden

Whenever you don’t go to Harley’s for getting wounds patched up he does it for you

At this point he’s probably more qualified than 50% if Gotham doctors with the amount of fatal injuries he’s stopped

When Bruce gets kinda worried that you hang out with like 50% of the villains in the city he reminds Bruce of Selina and Talia

That shuts Bruce up real fast

Sometimes at night you catch him doing grocery runs, you help him carry bags back to his car

He sometimes talks about his family, growing up and watching as things rapidly advanced from that of his childhood

It’s pretty interesting, especially considering the batcave is filled with super tech that would go for millions

Once again your half convinced he’s some sort of immortal/god in human form with the amount of patience he has

Along with the fact he somehow balances cleaning an entire mansion and batcave

How he does this no one knows

God help anyone who gets on his bad side cause he’s pulling out the umbrella to teach them proper manners

Example, the guy who thought it would be a good idea to heckle you about wearing a skirt

That man is scared to walk the night knowing he’s still out there

Eventually one night as you made your last rounds across the city and said hi to Waylon along with drop by the iceberg Lounge you end up back in the batcave

It’s peaceful as usual, even as you go up to Bruce who has his mask pulled off with a soft smile

He holds out a paper, pen in his other hand that he offers to you

You nod with a smile and take it, signing your name down on it

Gotham is definitely in a stir when everyone wakes up to the news that Bruce Wayne had adopted a new child

Bruce got at least 1 individual call from each justice league member

[azucar-skull]

#3 Raph and Mikey? :3

Sure thing! I used a random injury generator for what injury Mikey is gonna get and I got "Your character has a needle wound on the front of the left side of their neck."

So this is gonna be fun!

3. "Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You're okay." With Raph and Mikey.

Prompt List

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.

.

There's some D-List villains terrorizing the streets on southern Manhattan. The turtles parkored across roof tops to get over there as soon as possible. The villains themselves were this wolf and fox yokai. The twins went after the wolf. The sunset duo went after the fox.

The fox yokai ducked into a dark alley and Mikey was hot on his tail.

"Mikey, wait up!", Raph called out as he tried squeezing through the cramped alley.

"Come on, Raph, hurry!", Mikey called back, still darting after the fox.

Mikey was tunnel-vision focused on capturing the shifty fox. It was funny how yokais like foxes and wolves were seen as evil, always the villain in a story. Mikey started to wonder why was that? How come folklore choose these creatures as bad guys?

The fox hit a dead end wall. Cornered, Mikey slowed down and readied himself for when the fox decided to bolt. But instead, the fox began fumbling for something inside his coat. What was he grabbing? A gun?

Mikey wasted no chance, summoning his mystic chains and capturing the villain's wrists.

"Hands where I can see them, fox!", Mikey ordered.

In restraining the fox, whatever he was holding spilled out of his hand and clattered on the ground. A syringe. Full of a glowing blue liquid.

"...What is that?", Mikey asked, trying to keep a brave face.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little tortoise..."

"Hey, I'm a turtle. Get yo' facts straight."

"Mikey?! Where'd you go?!", Raph shouted in the distance.

The second Mikey took a glance behind to call for his brother, the fox yanked itself out of the mystic chains and lunged for the syringe. Mikey was a split second too late to stop him before the fox charged at him with the syringe.

"WOAH, WATCH IT, HOSS!", Mikey sassed as he gripped the fox's wrists as the fox pushed back with all his might.

The syringe inched closer and closer and Mikey was doing everything in his power to push back against the fox. In a feeble attempt to escape, Mikey threw his weight into tumbling on his side. But in doing so, the needle jabbed into the front left of his neck upon impact. He feels the rush of something ice cold seep into his neck as he screamed, yanking the syringe out. Okay, not a smart move. He chucked the syringe on the ground, watching it shatter as the glowing blue sheen dissolved into the concrete. He clasped a hand around his neck, glaring at the fox.

"What the fuck was in that?!", Mikey rasped for answers. All the fox did was cackle and began scurrying off. "Hey! HEY! GET BACK HERE--"

The world began to tilt, wobbling and distorting like waves of blueish hues. Mikey stared down at his hands, a blurry bright blue trail following his silhoutte that refused to stop swaying and swaying and swaying...

"...Woah...", Mikey muttered. His voice was soft, almost inaudible. Simply because breathing became a super hard task.

Mikey caught himself on his knees before he could collapse, heaving and wheezing. He tried to breathe as deeply as he could but it was as if he was high up on a mountain, the air was incredibly thin. Sifting through his hands like sand, unable to grab on.

Large echoing footsteps shook the place. A large shadow casted over Mikey with glowing red eyes. The creature made a loud roar, approaching him. Mikey stumbled back in a wheezing panic, trying to escape the beast, but found himself cornered. How did this wall get here??? He had no choice but to face the monster head on. He tried to summon his chains but all he got were sparks of orange light that failed to grab on and take form.

The monster grabbed him.

Mikey screamed, heaving for air as he began to suffocate against it. He struggled in the beast's hold, flailing his arms about to try and push away or claw at its face or to do anything to get away. The beast roared louder and louder. Its claws grabbed his face tightly, roaring louder and louder.

Until the roars sounded like words.

"...key! Mikey! Mikey, snap outta it! It's Raph!"

Raph? Mikey heaved, blinking his eyes in hopes to abate the swaying blurs of blues. The red eyes dimmed, revealing the red mask covering his brother's face. His kind, smiling, reassuring face. Mikey's vision began to blur again, but this time with tears.

"Raphieeeeeee...", the youngest whined. "I feel weird."

"Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You're okay.", the oldest soothed. "You're okay, Raphie's gotcha. Our brothers are coming."

Good. This was good. Everything would be okay. Mikey heaved a sigh as he found himself collapsing against Raph's plastron. Raph wasted no time, scooping his little brother up before he could fall. Mikey couldn't manage more than lolling his head against Raph's shoulder and heaving for air. Even now that he wasn't not moving, the world was still swaying a dizzying amount. He'd probably vomit in a bit.

"Hey, big man, you gotta breathe. You're breathing very shallow.", Raph pleaded softly. "...Why are your eyes glowing blue?"

Was he? Mikey couldn't tell. He was trying his darndest to breathe as deeply as he could and even then it was a struggle. Splotches of black began to fill his vision. He could barely make out what was happening around him.

"...h thank pizza supreme. Leo, you gotta help-- What's with Donnie? Why are his eyes glowing red?"

"Long story..."

"OMIGOSHHIRAPHHIMIKEYOHWOWMIKEYYOUDON'TLOOKSOGOODDON'TYOUAGREELEOHEDOESN'TLOOKGOODWHYAREHISEYESBLUETHATISSOFUNNYIT'SLIKEHOWMYEYESAREREDHAHAHA"

"Okay, Dontron, deep breath."

*the quickest deep breath known to mankind*

"Okay...good...Uh, go stand over there and count to 1000."

"OKAYYEPSUREMHMICANDOTHATANOBRAINERWATCHTHIS123456789101112..."

"Hey, Mikey...what's going on?"

"He's strugglin' to breathe. Seems kinda outta it."

"Gotcha. Here, lemme grab Don's ventilator tech thingy."

Before Mikey knew it, air was being forcibly pulled in and out of his mouth. The black splotches began to fade away yet the world still swirled in shades of blue. At least it was enough to get his bearings. His eyes drifted to the side to see his other brothers. Leo was actively checking over Mikey's heartbeat and the puncture in his neck. Donnie's eyes were glowing red as he vibrated with such intensity in the corner muttering numbers to himself.

"9979989991000HAHALEOIDIDN'TDIDYOUSEEDIDYOUSEEMEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAWOOOOIBETTHATWASANEWRECORDORSOMETHINGIBETYOURASSICOULDREACHINFINITYHAHAHAHAHAIDON'TCARETHATIT'SILLOGICALICANTAKEOVERTHEWORLDFUCKYOUELON"

"Donnie. Breathe. Slow.", Leo spat in a no-nonsense tone. Donnie began hyperventiliating and Leo raised a brow at him. "Slower. ....Slower... Good. Keep it at that pace." He turned to Raph. "I'm calling the tank, let's get out of here."

"Good call. ...Is Donnie gonna be okay?"

"Eh, he'll be fine. Must be some adrenaline booster or something. He should tucker out soon. Mikey, though, it's hard to say what happened to him. Some kind of poison, I guess. Nothing we can do except ride it out. Make sure his vitals are stable."

"How long is that gon' take?"

"Few hours??? I don't know. This is mystic stuff."

Mikey let the sounds of his brothers talking wash over him, too dizzy to keep up. His eyes slipped shut, just relishing in the fact he could breathe again.

When Mikey woke again, he's lying down in something soft. Bright light filled the room and thankfully the world was colorful again. Though these colors were dull. Shame. There was something beeping off to the side and he still had the ventilator latched on his face. He also heard a groan.

"...Ughhh...I feel like I got ran over by a tank...", Donnie grumbled in the gurney beside him.

"Yeah, I expected as much. Just try and get some rest, Dee.", Leo reassured. "How you feeling, Mikey?"

"Well...I can breathe again...", the box turtle shrugged.

Raph chuckled. "Yeah, you gave me quite the scare back there. Next time, don't go running off without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

.

.

.

Boom. Happy ending. Happy now? See? I can do happy shit too, I'm not a monster-- agdgdhadfhfdh

[janetbrown711]

Melatonin

Louie can't sleep after an adventure gone wrong, his mother's words echoing in his head like the worst worst record, and so he seeks solace with his dear old Uncle Donald.

Ao3 Link

Louie was tired, which wasn’t surprising for 2:17 in the morning. It had also been a long, long day of adventuring and he had been grateful when he finally was able to throw himself on his bunk bed.

Unfortunately though, Louie couldn’t sleep.

His back and legs ached something fierce from all of the above-average amounts of running and walking and climbing he had to do, and there was this weight on his chest that caused his heart to pound, keeping his eyes and mind on alert.

Insomnia was nothing new for the youngest duck brother, of course, but that didn’t make it any less annoying (especially with Dewey’s tendency to snore). He’d normally just go on his phone and scroll through social media until his eyes decided to close, but it didn’t feel right tonight. No, his feed was too full of Webby and Dewey’s photos of their adventure. Photos of Scrooge, Huey, and Della were on every post, with Louie having to swipe through to find any with him in them.

That wasn’t their fault though, Louie really hadn’t been in the mood today for hiking mountains and fighting bears and bear-like monsters to find some mystic honey stirrer. The photos of him were blurry and embarrassing, unlike the usual where he’d at least pose with the treasure or he and Webby had some kind of fun side quest.

A chill ran through Louie that made him sit up and sigh, rubbing the bandages around one of his hands as he tried to think of what to do.

He could go to the kitchen and if Duckworth wasn’t too busy ghost-sleeping, he could make him some tea..? No, no, Louie hated tea more than Scrooge hated to waste it. Something else then… like watching YouTube? No, his feed was overrun with videos about Doofus Drake and Scrooge McDuck sightings and hustler videos that Louie really didn’t have an interest in (at least… not right now). He could try counting sheep, but– but there was something else on his mind playing on repeat instead.

“C’mon Louie, it’s just one more mile, don’t get lazy on me now.” His mother smiled at him, hands on her hips and a bouncy energy that just made him even more tired by the second.

“Yeah, Louie! C’mon, it’ll be totally cool to see the top of the mountain,” Huey encouraged too.

“If I don’t die before then,” Louie panted, leaning back against a tree.

Della tsked and rolled her eyes. “You sound just like your uncle, you know that?”

Louie perked up at that, but before he could say anything, Dewey punched him in the arm as he and Webby sped by.

“See ya later, slowpokes!” he called out mockingly as Webby made a face.

“Hey! We’re supposed to be on the lookout for bears, you two!” Della laughed and hurried to go join them.

“Hey–! Wait for us!” Huey shouted and started scurrying off too, and Louie had no choice but to follow.

…Louie didn’t know why his mind was focusing on it– it wasn’t a big deal, really. They all made it eventually, even if Louie missed the “big reveal” and family photo op. They had hundreds of those, Louie being gone from one or two or however many at this point wasn’t a big deal. He was the lazy one, after all. Consequences, simple as that.

“If you want to be part of this family, you got to–”

Louie shot up and out of bed, startled by his own memory as the pounding in his chest only increased.

“It’s just a stupid memory, Louie. Just shut up and go back to sleep,” he muttered to himself before checking if he’d awoken his brothers. Thankfully, the answer was no, so Louie was left to… well, as much as he wanted to, he was in no condition to go back to bed. He was still stuck in “fight or flight” mode, so he needed to walk around– maybe to find some melatonin.

As good as that sounded though, he knew the numerous bathrooms barely even had toilet paper, much less medications due to how stingy Scrooge was. If there was melatonin to be found, it probably expired in 1986 and probably had a nightmare shadow creature trapped inside for extra measure.

Then again, Uncle Donald always kept his melatonin and other vitamins stocked, so maybe Louie could just go to the houseboat to check? Hopefully he could do so without waking his uncle, but if he caught him, it wasn’t like he’d get in trouble.

Louie bit his cheek, finding his phone and unplugging it to check the time, annoyed but not surprised it had only been two minutes. With a sigh, Louie put his phone in his pajama pocket, and quietly crept out of his room into the halls of the manor.

Nights like these always made the mansion feel haunted– more than by Duckworth, anyways. His uncle was crazy old and so was his choice in curtains and decoration. While Duckworth and Beakley kept dust away, the moonlight had this uncanny way of pointing out every crack and crevice that was previously unknown. Plus, the quiet made the creaking wood and pipes a lot more noticeable, and with Louie, being in the state that he was, picked up the pace to avoid it as much as possible.

Thankfully, the courtyard wasn’t too hard to get to and soon, Louie was back sneaking his way on the houseboat like it was nothing.

While it took a second to get used to, the familiar sway and creaking of the houseboat was comforting for the young duck, and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way to the bathroom’s medicine cabinet for raiding.

In there, he found a half empty bottle of aspirin, a thing of tums, an empty paper cup, some mouthwash, but no sign of any melatonin.

“Well… frick,” Louie muttered to himself, closing the mirror and nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard footsteps just outside.

“Hello?” called out the tired and scratchy voice of Louie’s uncle.

Busted.

“Sorry, Uncle Dee, I was just looking for some melatonin to nab.” Louie’s face was red as he flicked the light off and stepped out to the small hallway.

His uncle smiled pitifully at him. “Can’t sleep?”

Louie shook his head.

“I keep that in my room now since you three moved out.” Donald chuckled. “I can grab it for you, and I can make some tea too, if you’d like.”

Louie bit his cheek. It was getting late, but as much as Louie wanted to just take the melatonin and hope his feelings would just drown out, he couldn’t deny having a cup of sleepytime tea with his uncle would help.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Louie gave a crooked little smile, which made his uncle chuckle again and ruffle his hair before going to the kitchen. Louie followed, sliding into the circular booth and watching as his uncle pulled out the dented old kettle and filled it with water.

“Have you gotten any sleep at all?” his uncle asked, watching it fill.

Louie shook his head. “No, not really… I’m more surprised you’re awake though, I really thought it would be an easy in-and-out.”

“You’d be surprised how raising triplets and being ex-navy can affect how light you sleep.” His uncle winked and turned the water off.

Louie snorted. “I think Mom could sleep through a bombing.”

“Yeah, that’s Della all right.” Donald’s voice wavered a bit, though he quickly turned to muttering in frustration as it took a second before his stove would light. It eventually did, and once that was all settled he sighed and leaned against the counter. “So what’s keeping you up this time, Lou?”

“Oh, you know… adventure stuff, I guess,” Louie danced around the details, picking at the bandage on his hand.

His uncle’s eyes landed on it, and based on his reaction, it seemed he hadn’t noticed his injury at dinner. “Are you okay? What happened? Did Huey or Webby do the bandaging? Or was it Dewey? Not that he does a bad job, he just always forgets the Neosporin–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, Uncle Dee– really,” Louie forced a smile. “It’s just a minor scrape, I promise.”

“You know, I’ve always told Scrooge you boys need better gloves and gear just so situations like this don’t happen.” Donald shook his head and left the kitchen, muttering under his breath the whole time.

Welp. Better than a scolding to stay safer, Louie thought to himself as he closed his eyes for a second.

When he opened them again, his uncle was back with a first aid kit and a bottle of melatonin.

“Here, let me look at it,” Donald asked, taking a seat next to Louie.

“It’s fine, Uncle Donald,” Louie tried to assure him, but his uncle didn’t relent, taking his hand and quickly unwrapping the bandage.

His uncle frowned, inspecting it. “This doesn’t look like a regular scrape. What happened?”

“It was just a sharp rock, I swear.” Louie looked away to try and mask the lie.

Donald didn’t seem to believe it, but focused his efforts more on adding some neosporin to his cut before finding a suitable gauze pad, bringing Louie momentarily relief.

“Who wrapped this the first time? And how long was it between hurting yourself and getting bandaged?” Donald interrogated.

“Dewey when we got back to the plane, I guess– it’s really not a big deal, Uncle Donald, I’m fine,” Louie tried to push, but he could see Donald’s eye twitch.

“No one had a first aid kit? Not even Huey?” Donald asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“He ran out using it on Webby and Dewey and Launchpad.” Louie shrugged. “Seemed only fair to let them have it this time anyways, since I’m usually the one taking all the supplies.”

Donald frowned, now taking the roller bandage and wrapping his wrist twice before going diagonally to the outside of his pinky. “I don’t like you thinking like that; your safety and health matters just as much as anyone else’s– even if you’ve got worse luck and tire out quicker.”

“Sure,” Louie sighed, looking at the kettle and seeing the steam starting to escape, a squeal imminent.

“I’m serious, Louie. I don’t want you talking like that. You deserve as much love and care as anyone else.” His uncle looked at him seriously, but the ten-year-old avoided eye contact.

Donald frowned, finishing the bandaging just as the kettle began to squeal and put a brief pause to go deal with that.

“If you want a place in this family–”

Stop. Just stop, Louie hissed in his mind. He hated that stupid video and that stupid memory. It was so long ago, there really wasn’t a point for it to be on repeat like it was. Yeah, his mom joked that if he hadn’t been so clumsy on the last adventure then Huey wouldn’t have ran out of bandages, but like… that was different. Louie was fine. It was fine. It was cool.

“So are you going to actually tell me how you hurt yourself, or are you going to keep me guessing all night?” Donald sighed, pouring the hot water into two mugs.

“It was a sharp rock, I promise.” Louie bit his cheek.

“Right.” His uncle’s shoulders sagged, before he shook his head and set the kettle down. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Adventures are hard sometimes, I get it– plus, I know I can be a little protective–”

Louie laughed.

Donald rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe more than a little protective, but you know… someone’s gotta.”

Louie’s smile faded and his eyes went back to his hands.

His uncle hummed in amusement as he got the tea bags and began brewing before returning with mugs in hand to the booth. “I’m sorry today was rough. I wish I could’ve been there.”

Louie waved his hand. “You would’ve gotten hurt a lot more than me.”

“Yeah, but at least Della knows to carry three extra kits whenever I’m around,” Donald laughed, and a lump formed in Louie’s throat.

“Right, yeah.” Louie tried to ignore it, tapping his fingers on the glass as he urged the tea to brew faster.

When it was done, he could feel his uncle's eyes on him as he took a sip of tea, searching and scanning like they had many times before. It was how he eventually learned to detect Louie's schemes, and it never failed to make Louie feel small.

To his surprise though, instead of saying anything, Donald wrapped an arm around Louie and pulled him to his side, kissing his head and hugging him tight. It made the lump tighten and tears threaten to form, the pressure building so tight Louie might just burst.

“I love you, Louie. You know that?” his uncle whispered.

Louie could only nod.

“I love you very, very much, Lou. I care about your health and safety, and I want you to be happy more than anything else in the whole wide world, do you understand?” Donald continued.

Louie nodded again, his lower lip beginning to tremble.

His uncle hugged him tighter. “Louie, I want you to tell me what’s hurting you. You don’t have to give details– but know that nothing is too much for me, okay? I want to help you… please…”

The ‘please’ shattered Louie’s resolve. He opened his mouth to speak maybe three times, before he eventually croaked it out:

“Why… doesn’t mom… like me..?”

Donald let out a quiet gasp, filling Louie with instant regret that broke him down into a sobbing mess in an instant.

“Oh, Louie.” His uncle pulled Louie onto his lap now, hugging him tight as he rocked back and forth while the ten-year-old just buried his face in his chest.

“S-sh-she– It-it’s like– She likes H-Huey, a-and Dewey, a-and even Webby– b-but– b-but–”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Donald hugged him a little tighter, and Louie could tell he was crying too.

“I-I keep screwing u-up– a-and it’s like– i-it’s like she ca-can’t even tell a-and she just– she hates me, Unca’ Donald, she hates me,” Louie wept.

“Della doesn’t hate you, Louie, she just doesn’t understand, I promise,” Donald tried to assure, but Louie just shook his head.

“Sh-she keeps– she keeps calling me lazy a-and she makes fun of me wh-when I fail a-and even get hurt– it hurts so much, Unca’ Donald, it hurts so much,” Louie confessed, a wave of sorrow crashing down with the realization.

“I’m so sorry, Lou…” his uncle’s voice cracked. “I wish she didn’t. I really, really wish she didn’t– but old habits die hard, I’m so sorry.”

It took Louie a moment to process what his uncle said, and when he did, he sat up a bit. “Y-you mean she does that to you too?”

Donald nodded with a sad smile. “Everyone does, but Del and Scrooge especially. I used to joke that’s the only reason they kept me around.”

Louie’s heart managed to break a second time and he practically leapt to hug his uncle. “M’so sorry, I-I never meant to– I just– I’m so sorry, Uncle Donald.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Lou. I’ve learned to accept it.” Donald rubbed his back.

“But you shouldn’t have to! I-it sucks– I hate being just a joke to them, a-and you’re so much more than that too!” Louie broke the embrace again.

“Louie, you aren’t a joke to them, I promise. You have that wonderful mind of yours that’s always so good at planning and scheming and escaping and they value that tremendously.” Donald put his hands on Louie’s shoulders.

Louie looked at the ground. “Even mom..?”

Donald gave a long sigh. “Your mom is… new to this. She doesn’t understand how you work yet and assumes you won’t take it personally, like how I would act– but that doesn’t make it right. She loves you, but she just doesn’t know how to, and I’m sorry that hurts you…”

Louie looked away, his mom’s words echoing again in his mind.

“If you want to be a part of this family, you gotta stop.”

“She… she said if I wanted to be a part of this family, I had to stop scheming– had to stop the one thing I’m good at,” Louie whispered.

He could see his uncle’s shoulders tense. “When did she say that..?”

“When you were gone after the ‘timephoon incident’.” Louie sniffled, wiping away hot tears as he stared at his mug.

Donald gave another long, heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, Louie. I wish she understood you, I really, really do…”

“Sh-she also– I hurt my hand because she didn’t see me slipping. She didn’t help me– sh-she assumed I’d be okay, but I’m not okay– it’s not okay, Uncle Donald, it’s not.” Louie shook his head and curled up to Donald’s side, and his uncle wrapped an arm around him.

“I’m so sorry, Lou. Della just gets so wrapped up in her own head, she has a hard time recognizing people aren’t always at her level.” Donald rested his head atop Louie’s and squeezed him.

“I-I felt so alone today– I hate feeling alone,” Louie confessed more.

“I know, Louie, I know. And if it helps, you’ll always have me no matter what, okay? There’s nothing you could do to make me hate or leave you. You’ll always be my little Louie, and even if we get separated, I’ll always find my way back– even if it’s the moon,” Donald pointed out with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Uncle Donald.” Louie nuzzled closer. “I wish mom understood you too.”

His uncle laughed weakly. “Maybe one day… but in the meantime, I’m lucky to have you.”

Louie couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “I’m lucky to have you too, Uncle Donald.”

The pair of them sat in silence for a while, with Louie curled extra tight to his side and Donald holding him nice and close. It was calming, especially with the slow eb and flow of the pool water. All that crying had exhausted Louie, and he figured his uncle likely felt the same. However, Louie couldn’t even imagine going back to his bunk now, not when he felt his uncle needed him as much as he needed Donald.

“I’ll try and talk to her. It’ll be slow and I don’t know how she’ll take it, but I’ll talk to her,” Donald suddenly spoke up. “Uncle Scrooge too, for that matter.”

Louie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t gotta do that, it probably won’t change anything.”

“I have to try, Lou.” Donald looked down at him. “You’re worth at least trying.”

Louie didn’t have a response for that, so he just nuzzled back close and there was quiet again.

Louie liked the quiet. It was much better than the eerie silence of the manor, and how it would always be broken abruptly by some creaking wood or wind whirling down the chimney. On the houseboat, the sounds were constant, like a lullaby. The splashing of the water, the squeaking old metal, the soft hum of the old AC unit– it always knew how to put Louie to sleep.

“Uncle Donald?” he suddenly spoke up.

“Yes?”

“Can I… stay here with you tonight?” Louie glanced back up at him.

Donald’s face melted into a soft smile. “Of course, Lou. You’re welcome here any time.”

“Good.” Louie smiled too, before yawning.

His uncle chuckled before yawning himself. “Looks like we should get going to bed, huh?”

“I could stay up longer,” Louie lied, making his uncle roll his eyes.

“Drink some tea before you take that melatonin, I don’t want it going to waste,” Donald lightly teased before getting up and drinking more of his own.

Louie nodded, beginning to chug before he remembered he really wasn’t that big of a fan of tea, and so set it down again. “Is… that enough?” Louie asked.

Donald laughed. “Yes, yes, it’s fine, I’m just joking, no need to force yourself.”

Louie smiled before struggling to open the bottle of melatonin. Noticing this, his uncle walked over and helped him retrieve the yellow pill, which Louie took with a little bit of tea. After that was done, Donald cleaned up their mugs and set them out to dry. Once that was settled, Louie took Donald’s hand and the two of them went to cuddle the rest of the night away.

[bambiraptorx]

Remember that AU of Minor Interference where Draxum doesn't have the mystic oath hold him back? I finally figured out a way to continue it yay!

Previous parts: Part 1, Part 2

Content Warnings: child abuse, injuries, implied/referenced violence, eye trauma

Raph doesn't like the way Draxum is looking at his eye.

He doesn't like the way Draxum's gauntlet is warm against his skin as it holds his face or the way that the man's breath gusts lightly across his scales or the deep, almost concerned frown on that blue mask, and he certainly doesn't like the way Draxum mutters under his breath. Raph doesn't know if it's because he's upset or because he doesn't want to be heard, but it can't be a good sign.

He doesn't like the way his eye throbs or his vision on that side is blurred, either, but he's trying not to think too much about that.

Draxum withdraws his hand and curses. Raph feels like doing the same, but keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't like to talk around Draxum if he can help it; it just feels safer that way.

"I can't heal that."

What? But—but Draxum always heals whatever he does, he has to be able to heal it. Raph half-raises a hand, then thinks better of it, and switches to his other arm. Better not to mess with the dislocated shoulder too much.

"Um, w-why not?"

Draxum shifts his position to Raph's side, his hands already poised to adjust the hanging arm. "Eyes are too delicate and it's nothing I was trained in. Anything I'd do would run just as much of a risk as causing more damage, maybe permanent damage."

The icy fear that never quite leaves Raph's chest anymore reaches up his throat, coiling around his skull and prodding the ache in his eye. "Permanent? You—you can't fix it?"

If Draxum can't fix it... what's going to happen to him? What's gonna happen to his eye? What if his sight doesn't come back, what if he loses it—

He grunts as Draxum's magic jerks his shoulder back into place, the ligaments twitching as muscle and bone try to remember how they're supposed to sit.

Draxum sighs through his teeth as his magic reorganizes Raph's body. "There's nothing I can do, yes. But don't worry, I know... someone. They might be able to help."

---

Raph is less disoriented by Draxum's portals than Leo's, something he'll never admit out loud. But Leo would have at least told him where they were going.

It's a small building, one the Baron has to duck his head to enter, and Raph's elbow spikes scrape against the doorway as he follows. It feels old, but clean, like it's much older than Raph is but kept in good condition, and judging from the mild humming of mystic energy, it's somewhere in the Hidden City.

"Tourmaline, I require your assistance," Draxum calls. Raph looks around the room, unsure what to make of it. There's a handful of variously sized chairs, a table with unfamiliar equipment and a window to another room above it, and a poster in some language he doesn't know with a diagram of an eye. Or maybe it's multiple languages? Hard to make out, with the blurry vision and all.

"I'll have you know my hours of operation are listed on the door you opened to get in here, Baron," a dry voice calls through the window. A large snake sticks their head through it, their neck as thick around as Raph's bicep. "Or have you forgotten how to read?"

"Don't play games with me, Tourmaline," Draxum snaps. "This is a matter of importance. I have someone who needs healing."

The serpent huffs. "I'm an odd first choice for that, given that my specialty is—"

"It's an eye injury. You treat eyes. Surely the connection is obvious."

The snake swivels their head towards Raph. "Ah. That doesn't look good, how did it happen?"

Raph opens his mouth to answer, but Draxum beats him to it. "Training accident. We were sparring, a blow landed when I didn't expect it to. It was my fault, I'm afraid."

None of that explanation is exactly wrong, but it feels like it is.

"Training, hm?" Tourmaline's eyes don't narrow (they don't have eyelids, after all), but their tone splits the difference between curious and suspicious as they slither out of the window and onto the table below. "You seem to be on the younger end. What is your name?"

Raph blinks (and ignores the subsequent pain in his eye). He wasn't quite expecting to be addressed. "Uh, Raphael. I'm fifteen."

He gets the impression that if Tourmaline had eyebrows, they would be shooting up. "Fifteen? That's... that's very young to be training with the likes of the Baron. How exactly did that arrangement occur?"

"He's my apprentice," Draxum cuts in. "Unofficially, as of yet."

Tourmaline drops to the ground, or at least, the first part of them does. It looks like they've still got a lot to bring though the window. "And you chose to spar with him anyway, without that legal protection? His parents could prosecute—"

"The paperwork hasn't come through yet. And my immediate priority is treating his eye, not dealing with matters of responsibility." Draxum's tone is sharp, his words rushed together. "Now will you heal him, or will I be forced to delay treating his injury by finding someone else?"

"You're toeing a very serious line here, Baron. This could be reportable to—"

"Heal him, berate me after. His injuries are more important than anything else. Don't drag this out for him."

The serpent sighs. "Fine, fine. Just let me finish coming in." They slither their way around Draxum and Raph, the end of their tail finally coming through the window in the wall, and come to a rest in front of Raph. Even knowing they're a person, it's a little unnerving to be so close to a snake so big. Their head raises to his eye level, swaying slightly.

"The eye is clearly ruptured, judging from the distortion of the globe, conjunctival bleeding, and misshapen pupil. I'd presume that your vision has been affected?"

Raph nods.

"Time is of the essence in healing it properly. I can't guarantee your vision will go back to normal, but many emergency healers aren't trained fully in the intricacies of eyes. Credit where it's due to your mentor, I suppose. He was right to bring you here." They coil the very end of their tail around Raph's wrist, a lightness to the touch.

"You're likely too young to have much experience being healed, but don't worry. You're in good hands, so to speak."

Raph is actually very familiar with how healing works, but he doesn't get the chance to say that before energy flows into his body, up to his face.

The snake's mystics are different than Draxum's—softer, kinder. They wash up his arm in a gentle, numbing wave. He barely feels it as they nudge his eye back into shape and put the tissues back in order. It takes longer than Draxum would have spent by several minutes, but it barely hurts. It doesn't even itch by the time Tourmaline draws their tail from his hand.

"There, finished. Look around for me."

Raph does. It's better than before—his eye no longer throbs, and for the most part his vision is clear again. "It's, uh, still a bit fuzzy."

Tourmaline nods. "It may return to normal on its own, it may not. If it doesn't clear up in a few days, have Draxum bring you back. Now take a seat. Healing can have odd effects when you aren't used to it, and it's best to relax for a while afterward."

Raph obeys. He's more tired than he usually is after healing. Maybe Donnie will have some theories on why that is, if he remembers to tell him later. For now, though, he'll enjoy having a chair sturdy enough to hold him. He leans back as much as he can, eyes closed.

Something clinks, metal against metal. "Here is your payment."

"My rates haven't changed, Draxum, and I trust you have not forgotten how to count. Why the extra?"

"For the, ah, inconvenience. And because..." a swallow. "I may have been slightly more blunt and demanding than truly necessary. It was—I want the boy safe, you understand. His injuries are worrisome to me."

Which is a load of bullshit, because Draxum wouldn't cause them if it were true. But still, the serpent seems to accept it. "You and your apprentices, Baron, always getting so attached. He's in good hands."

A gap in the conversation that might leave room for a nod, or might not. Steps click in Raph's direction, pausing in front of him. "Come, Cypress. Time to go."

Raph doesn't really want to. But it's not about what he wants, when it comes to Draxum.

He opens his eyes and stands. Nods once. And follows Draxum through the portal he opens. What else is there to do?

[michimonie]

Who would Duffy Duck use as an "attorney", if he committed some kind of fail, who could he turn to besides Bugs?

Originally I wanted to respond with Porky because I could totally see him defending Daffy and doing a pretty great job, only to have Daffy accidentally incriminate himself.

... but then I remembered this episode of Ducktales.

Images: Scrooge McDuck in Karmic Court, Louie Duck as his lawyer/defender.

How could I not do a version with Daffy and Plucky?

Plucky: Don't worry, I've got this. Daffy, with metal lock around his beak: ...

90s Plucky would try to break him out of jail and fail (Tiny Toons Adventures, "Who Bopped Bugs Bunny?"), but Looniversity Plucky would probably try to fight legally.

Honestly, if he was in the mystical court like in Ducktales, Shirley might be a better bet. She's more level-headed and seems to have a good handle on mystical things like that, buuut Plucky would be hilarious.

If you're looking for a Looney Tunes answer, though, my vote is on Porky.

[angelmichelangelo]

i’d be curious to see your take on #7 with the rise b-team after the whole tank incident in the movie

#7 trapped in room/closet/elevator

x

read on ao3!

Donnie’s mind has seemingly decided on giving up trying to rationalize this whole situation.

Maybe it’s the feel of his own heartbeat racing hard against his temples or the pitchy, panicked voice of the little brother he’s got trapped in here with him, but all his usual tricks to temper his rising anxiety doesn’t seem to be working because he’s fairly certain he doesn’t have a fix for this.

Mikey is, he’s sure, starting to hyperventilate from beside him, bringing his knees up to his chest, eyes wide and so blown out the blue-y greens are swallowed up by the darks of his pupils and each breath that comes seems to be shorter and sharper than the last.

It’s Mikey’s panic that shifts his rationalization into gear, even if it’s clunky and awkward and not at all smooth, he stands on wobbling legs to get to his brother.

“Hey.” He speaks loud over the sound of metal starting to bend and warp. Something groans and hisses, like the vehicle itself was starting to cry out in agony under the pressure it was being subjected to. He taps Mikey’s arm with just one finger when he gets no immediate response. “Michael. Hey.”

Mikey takes a small, aborted gasp, eyes slowly sliding from across the room to meet his. His mouth is taut in a tight frown and his hands are trembling where they’re locked in around his legs, keeping himself tucked into a small ball.

“In and out, through the nose and then the mouth.” He makes himself comfortable on the floor beside him. “And I need you to tell me the exact historical timeline of Michelangelo's work pieces.”

His brother manages a frown, top of his mask wrinkling under the expression. “The what?” He rasps. Donnie shuffles closer, knees pressing against the bottoms of his feet, like if he were to scoot any closer, they might just merge into one being. “Give me the timeline,” he asks of him again, keeping his voice steady. “I know you know it.” Mikey blinks, and there’s a tell flashing across his face that he knows what Donnie is up to with this – any maybe it should be enough to break the spell he was trying to cast here, but he just sits up a little straight and takes a sharp breath through his teeth. “Well. He, uh. He was born in 1475,” he starts. “Just 530 years before you. Nice.” Donnie comments dryly before letting his brother continue. “And, er, he, um. He became an apprentice in 1487–” The tank jolts sideways, leering both turtles to the left before they’re both flailing their arms to steady themselves. Mikey makes a wounded, scared sound, head ducking downwards like he was about to draw himself entirely into his shell before Don can stop him with a hand closed around his forearm. Don’t leave me is what he wants to say, out of sheer fear and worry. But he’s supposed to be the big brother here. He’s supposed to be the braver one. “And how old would he have been then?” Is what he says instead, managing to iron out the wobble to his voice. “Do the math for me.” Mikey gulps, eyes brimming with tears as he starts to work out the numbers on his head and on his fingers. “Um. Twelve?” Is his answer. Donnie nods. “Uh huh. He was twelve.” The tank groans and something outside pops and bursts and Donnie’s hold on his brother grows a little tighter. “Can you remember what art style you were working on at twelve?” And Mikey being just twelve years old wasn’t a great deal of time ago, really. Just before they met Draxum. Just before they unlocked their mystic powers. It makes his gut sink to think of all the things they’d face in that time when Mikey could have just been a normal kid working on his art projects. “I just got into… into spray paints,” he answers him meekly. He’s wormed his arm out of Donnie’s iron grip to slip his hand into his instead, linking their fingers together wordlessly. Donnie nods. “Yup. You did.” The tank moves again and Donnie can’t hear Leo, or Casey and… and–

“What was your big invention at twelve?”

Mikey’s inquisitive voice grounds him, like it always has done, always so curious and wistful as his big, round look up to him. Like a little brother would. “Atom splitting,” Donnie rasps, feeling all the air rush out of his lungs at once and he squeezes his brother's hand tighter. “Made out of toaster scraps and bits of an old Prius.” Mikey laughs, all wet and wobbly. “Uh huh. And did it work?” Donnie shakes his head. “Nope.”   They go back and forth for a bit, reciting what they’d achieved at the ages where the original Michelangelo had succeeded, desperately trying to ignore how the inside of the Turtle Tank was slowly starting to grow smaller and smaller when April’s voice suddenly bursts through the intercom with a boatload of confidence and assurance that had all the nervous energy sitting in Donnie’s chest expelling out with a shaky laugh.

And later when they weren’t currently being crushed, or pulling reckless brothers out of Prison Dimensions, Mikey would find his older brother, link their hands together again and thank him for what he’d done back in the Tank to keep him calm. Little would Mikey know, it went both, equal ways back there.

[phantoms-lair]

A Wolf Among Thieves part 2

Okay, Vajlean wasn't going to be useful here, so the only ones he'd have left to ask was the kids. Something he had expressly NOT wanted to do.

He'd said more than once they were naïve. He'd come to realize it wasn't that they were ignorant of how the world worked, they knew better than most. It was that they refused to accept it so long as they were alive to change it. But in the end they were still kids and they could be naïve enough to not question certain things. Like what being a Persona User could mean.

Zenkichi vividly remembered the first half of his trip into the Kyoto Jail. It was terrifying, ducking around pillars and knowing being seen would mean death. And how he moved just like in the real world. Then when Valjean awakened it changed, he was jumping onto roofs and practically teleporting behind cover like it was second nature. None of the kids had taught him how to do that, just like swinging that giant sword it came naturally.

He had been changed, remade to adapt to the Metaverse. And he had been carefully not thinking about if that followed in the real world. That more than his outlook had changed, that he was now something not quite human. Something other. And the last thing he'd wanted was this hanging over the kids. But he had to know...

Kurusu picked up immediately. "Everything okay, Wolf?" His voice in full Joker mode.

"I was just wondering something. After you awoke to Arsène did anything...weird happen to you."

The other side of the line was quiet for a moment. "I started traveling into the depth of Tokyo's collective subconscious so I could chide some peoples repressed feelings and combat other ones using my rebellious spirit as a mystical weapon. I also went directly in the minds of some of the most evil people I've ever met in order to steal a part of their soul that was making them into twisted bastards in the first place, then selling it for cash at a pawn shop so we could further fund supplies for our exploits. I escaped jail by pulling a trick with reality so the assassin posing as my teammate shot the memory of me being in my cell instead of my actual self. I have killed at least three gods, the first one by taking the offered power of everyone I'd helped and turning it into a fallen angel with a gun. The personification of Hope lives in my room and for reasons unbeknownst to me or him is trapped in the form of a cat. He can also turn into a bus. My friends and I were brought into the Metaverse for a Dance Off that Lavenza thinks I don't remember, but I totally do."

"Okay, okay. Point taken. I should have specified. I didn't mean weird events. I meant like, weird with your body."

"Is this a puberty talk? Because I can assure you I know about the birds and the bees-"

"Not that!" Thank GOD Akane wasn't home. "Look, I got into a bar fight tonight. The fight itself wasn't important, but while I was fighting I started healing, like I do in the Metaverse when I'm not in a Fury. And it's not just the injuries I got during the fight. All the little everyday cuts and bruises are gone and I am doing my best not to freak out, but I am very much freaking out." He could hear Morgana's voice in his head telling him to get it together, just like his first foray into the Metaverse. It didn't help then and it wasn't helping now.

"I haven't noticed anything like that, but none of the rest of us have regenerative abilities like yours." Kuruso said gently and despite himself Zenkichi felt himself calming down ever so slightly. "I know some people who might be able to give us answers. Igor would definitely know, but he's more of a 'you don't call him, he calls you' guy, so he might take a while to find. Lavenza I can get to, she may not know all the answers, but she should know something. We'll find you answers."

"Thank you. And sorry, for falling apart on the phone." Zenkichi said sheepishly.

"It's not a problem, you're one of us now, and we look after our own." Because no one else would was unsaid.

~

Zenkichi was having dinner with Akane when his phone buzzed. He felt a bit guilty for the quick glance he took at it, but he did work a job where people's lives could depend on his response time.

Have some answers. Den tonight.

"Work?" Akane asked with a bit of disdain. "Just an informant updating me on his progress." He assured her. "Nothing worth interrupting dinner for." Not to mention said informant and his crew would rake him over the coals if he didn't spend enough time with his daughter. Those kids...

Still the Den though. Zenkichi had mixed feelings on the place. It was perfect for their purposes. He just hated how much the location shouldn't exist.

It had apparently manifested during the Yaldaboath incident. A small corner of the metaverse that had attuned to the Phantom Thieves, almost like a one room palace (even if it was a very big room). It had vanished with the rest of the metaverse after that incident had ended, but Sophie had gotten the idea if her 'sister' Emma had managed to have so much control of the metaverse, she could manage one location.

Because it worked like a Jail, all they had to do was enter the passcode and they'd be taken there, regardless from where in Japan they were, and be returned to the same spot. It helped with him in Kyoto, most of the kids in Tokyo, and Sophie who knew where. Incredible convenient, but it gave him the heebie jeebies.

Once Akane was asleep he took out his phone. "For one so desperate for answers, you certainly fear them." His golden eyed reflection said mockingly.

Zenkichi certainly regretted his desperate attempt to talk to his persona. Not only had it not gotten him anything, but Valjean seemingly took it as an invitation to chat with him whenever he saw his reflection which was...annoying (Even if his commentary during boring meetings was hilarious). Still, Zenkichi ignored him and pulled up the custom EMMA-like interface. "Name: Thieves' Den Passcode: I am Thou."

His house dissolved around him and he found himself in the bright red room. But at the same time his heart sank. He'd expected to find Kurusu. And the leader of the Phantom Thieves was there - along with every other member.

So much for not worrying them.

"Hey Gramps," Sakamoto gave him a tiny salute. He was in his Phantom Thief attire with him mask up around his forehead. Most of them were, save Takamaki who was wearing a school uniform.

It seemed strange to him how she didn't actually like her outfit. She'd grown used to it, but didn't think it was cool, the way the others Including him felt about their attire. Had she just gotten so used to being seen as a sex object between her modeling work and Kamoshida's advances that that's how she saw herself even if she hated it.

He'd suggest therapy, but apparently the last time one of these kids tried therapy the therapist had turned himself into a god and tried to rewrite reality into his own Utopia, so that was probably out.

What even was his life?

"So answers?"

"Well, Igor continues his streak of not being there when I need him." There was no mistaking the frustration in his tone. "But Lavenza told me what she could, and we've been running some experiments."

"I could not participate in the experiments as I have no body outside the metaverse, so I helped compile the data." Sophie said brightly.

The kids had been experimenting on themselves?

"So according to Lavenza, awakening to a Persona sort of grants you a dual citizenship in the Metaverse. That's why it's easier for us to navigate after an awakening. We count as a local for all intents and purposes. Also our Personas being a part of us mean we're intrinsically connected."

"It's harder to tell for the mot part with we who have only one persona," Niijima stated. "But Akira's wildcard ability showed that what we do and how we train our bodies does effect our Personas, so it made sense for the reverse to be true."

"We also learned that being a Persona user doesn't automatically make you heal faster, though wounds healed in the metaverse would stay healed in our reality." Sakura continued. "So in an emergency we could use magic in the metaverse to heal a serious injury without the need for a hospital."

"Passive healing isn't common, but I do have some Persona's with a Regenerate ability. When I equipped them, I noticed the fast healing you mentioned did seem to effect me. So it's likely that you do have a variant for ValJean's ability and can heal yourself through fighting. You also probably have the reverse, but I'd prefer you didn't use it as we don't have access to healing magics outside the cognitive world."

"Don't worry, I have no plans to test out if I can tear myself apart in the real world." Because at this point he was honestly just going to assume he could and avoid it.

"Other than emotionally" He reflection snarked back.

You know what? "Also do you guys know how to keep you persona from snarking at you? ValJean's gotten kind of mouthy."

He got several blank looks in return.

"ValJean talks to you? Regularly?" Okumura ventured.

"Is that...? I'm guessing from your looks that's not normal?"

"My Persona only spoke to me when it first awakened." Takamaki looked around, as if confirming this with everyone else.

"The same with mine." Kitagawa nodded.

"Johana was a bit..." Niijima winced . "'I see you've found you're justice, pray do not loose sight of it again.'" She quoted. "I felt like I'd disappointed my mom. I have a hard time imagining just being able to chat with her."

"For real?" Sakamoto looked surprised. "Cap was cool. Told be since my name was already mud, I might as well let loose and wreck havoc. I'd love to have the chance to actually talk with him."

"Zenkichi, under what circumstance did ValJean start talking to you?" Morgana inquired thoughtfully.

"I wanted to ask him about the healing thing. But since it turns out Personas only know what the human they come from knows, he had zilch. And then he never shut up." Zenkichi rolled his eyes.

"Really?" Kurusu of all people looked surprised. "I always got the impression Arséne knew a lot he wasn't telling me. Maybe it's another wildcard thing?"

Sakamoto snorted. "Dude I think it's a you thing. When you're on you give this aura like you have all the answers and hold all the cards. And Arséne's a part of you so...yeah. I think you just played yourself, man."

While the rest of the Phantom Thieves laughed at the bewildered look on their leader, Morgana looked thoughtful. "It makes a certain amount of sense." Morgana allowed, tail twitching. "Personas are part of one's cognition and as such can be shaped by our perceptions. None of us had a persona talk to us outside an awakening, so we assumed just talking to a persona wasn't a thing that could happen. After all, we had accepted that part of us into ourselves. Zenkichi, you to at least some degree saw ValJean as a separate entity, at least enough to assume he'd know something you didn't. You expected him to be able to respond and because of that he was."

"Of course once he did respond that was it. Talking to him became part of your cognition of him. No putting that genie back in the bottle."

"Great." Zenkichi glared at his golden eyes reflection.

"It is not my fault you are ever the agent of your own undoing." ValJean grinned back.

"Having to listen to you forever is a hell of a price tag for admission into the Phantom Thieves." Zenkichi groused.

"Don't be silly, Valjean's not why you got in." Sakura snorted.

"He isn't?" Zenkichi was at least slightly satisfied to see his persona just as poleaxed. "I asked if it was that simple and you said yes."

"Oh, is that what you meant? Then the answer is no, becoming a Phantom thief is NOT as simple as awakening a Persona." Takamaki clarified.

"Yeah Gramps, thought you knew. You were a Phantom Thief before you entered that dungeon." Sakamoto laughed.

"I was?" If anything Zenkichi was even more confused.

"Get out of there. Run." Kurusu said the words calmly, unlike how he had yelled them the night Akane had been taken. "Those words. That moment."

"Please understand, we wanted to trust you before then." Niijima apologized. "But you're not the first member of 'law enforcement' to demand a deal. And they've never intended to keep their end not even....not even Sis." She clenched her fists, remember a Christmas morning she'd thought be filled with hope instead be replaced with anger and betrayal. "The intention was always for us to end up caged, dead or both."

"So by the time you showed up to blackmail us, we knew anyone working with the authorities was absolutely not to be trusted." Okumura further explained, which really made her 'We hate cops' attitude all the more understandable.

"But that moment was a line in the sand. You could sacrifice us for your career, All you had to do was nothing and you'd be set for life. A false hero for the country to praise." Kurusu continued to explain. "But instead you sacrificed your career for us. You gave warning, ruining your career and taking our place in interrogation." He locked eyes with Zenkichi who was suddenly and forcefully reminded that Joker knew what being on the wrong side of that table was like. Knew more than the others exactly the treatment Zenkichi would expect. "In that moment you had to choose if you were with us or them. And that is when you became a Phantom Thief."

Zenkichi felt a lump in his throat. "I just did was right."

"Exactly." said Sakura. "Exactly."

ValJean laughed. "Did the children not just tell you they have little to no experience with adults doing 'what was right' by them. You have their trust and you have earned it fairly."

He'd earned it. And to be honest that felt a little better than getting his place on the team because he had a Persona.

"So you've been keeping u with your cooking, right? What did you make for Akane for dinner tonight." Okumura's words were friendly, but her eyes were sharp with challenge. Kurursu had also sat up straighter, waiting for his response.

Those damn kids. His damn kids.

His?

Okay, he could deal with this revelation later. Right now he had to defend himself in the court of cooking

~~~~

Honestly the original idea for this fic came from the P5 manga where the theives are playing cards and Joker keeps winning until one of the team accuses him of having a high-luck Persona equipped.

And if that carried over, why not other things? Like Zenkichi healing while he's fighting as long as he isn't using Fury

[maddiehu7]

Honorable | Elijah Mikealson

Chapter 2

So in the past 30 minutes of talking to Damon and Elena I've learned original vampires are real and one named Elijah Mikaelson was here but they killed him apparently and he has a crazy brother klaus....well that's great

"I don't see why you need my help if he's dead" I say confused looking at Damon and Elena

"Your a vampire hunter and a good one if you were able to trick Damon therefor you could help get information" Elena says

"Trick is a strong word" Damon says back to her she just rolls her eyes not looking at him I smile at there dynamic

"So will you help?" Elena asks hopefully I think for a minute before making one dumbass decision

"Yeah why not...but for you not him" I say looking at Damon smiling fakely he just rolls his eyes

"Yes! Thank you" Elena comes over putting her hand on my upper arm which makes me wretch away from her

"Oh um I'm sorry" she says apologetically

"It's-it's fine just not a big toucher with strangers" I say a little embarrassed of my reaction I just haven't had human contact in forever

"Oh yeah that makes sense" she says smiling reassuringly

"So what's first" I ask looking at them

~~~time skip~~~

It's the next day and I'm unfortunately teamed up with Damon and some vamp named rose to go talk to some guy about Elijah and klaus

"Why'd I get stuck with you" I groan out looking at Damon as we walk into the meeting place

"Your just lucky I guess" he smirks back at me I roll my eyes

"That's slate over there let's go" rose says pointing to a scrawny looking guy walking up to him

"Hello slate" rose says smiling slate smiles back

"Well let's get straight into it then" Damon says clasping his hands together

"One question first, your sure Elijah's dead?" The guy asks clearly scared

"Beyond dead" Damon confirms all of us walking over to a table sitting down

"Trever was a good man helped me with my dissertation on sexual deviance in the baroque period, I was going for my psych phd" slate says I sense hes angry just hiding it so I put up my guards

"Slates been in college sense '74" rose says getting comfortable

"When I was turned, I have 18 degrees, 3 masters, and 4 phds" he brags

"The point" I say annoyed

"Exactly I mean what is the point, what should I be doing with eternity, if you have an answer please enlighten me" slate says looking at me hostilely

"We need your help, If someone wanted to get in touch with klaus , howd you hook them up?" Rose deflects from the stare down with me and slate

"Craigslist" he responds which makes me roll my eyes

"Right" I say look at him bitchly

"Seriously I respond to a personal ad that gets sent to somebody who knows somebody who knows Elijah who's dead and that's where my connection ends" he finishes sitting back in his chair

"Here's what I don't get Elijah moved around during the day which means the original people knew the secret of the day ring, why would klaus wanna lift the curse of the sun and the moon?" Damon questions

"To keep the werewolf's from lifting it, if a vampire breaks the sun curse then the werewolf's are stuck with the curse of the moon forever and vice versa" slate answers

"But werewolf's are all extinct?" Rose says confused

"Well true I've never seen one but rumor has it" slate says smiling

"Not such a rumor" Damon confirms

"Mystic falls?" He questions Damon nods back

"God, I've got to l visit this place it sounds awesome" slate smiles but I feel weird all of a sudden like we're being watched or something I look around as they continue talking I see a man looking towards us outside I look at him questionably when he looks back straight into my eyes I sense somethings off about him he starts doing something with his hands and then throws something towards us completely smashing the windows glass shattering everywhere I duck down but can feel glass pricking my skin I look up and see rose and slate screaming in pain from the sun

"Who the hell is that?" I shout towards Damon

"Elijah" he says looking back at me shocked I look at him in confusion he's suppose to be dead?!

@spnaquakindgdom

[underforeversgrace]

we live like we're ready to die - 1

title: we live like we're ready to die

words: 2,169

chapters: 1 of ?

CROSSOVER FIC - Danny Phantom and Angel: The Series (BTVS)

AO3

Summary:

It’s time for the bi-annual convention of the supernatural and mystical arts in Los Angeles, an event celebrating magic and creatures science can’t explain! So, of course, it’s expected to be a frivolous affair to drag in tourists and wannabe witches, but there’s always something worth seeing at these conventions. For Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, it’s a rare text that may help him understand Angel’s part in the Shanshu prophecy. For Danny and his friends, it’s a summer field trip with Danny’s parents, where they get to listen to the Fentons explain why magic isn’t real.

When the book Wesley wants goes up for bid, some teenage girl outbids him, and he’s stuck trying to figure out who this girl is and how to request the text - if he can’t read it, she certainly can’t! Stumbling across her that evening, Wes isn’t sure how to react when her friend is attacked by a vampire… who then runs away, seemingly terrified of the teenage boy.

Danny, however, is drawn to a book in a way he can’t explain, begging Sam to get it for him. When he’s attacked that evening by a man with a deformed face and teeth the size of his fingers, though, is when he is forced to accept that maybe ghosts aren’t the only thing that go bump in the night.

Timeline of both shows: Danny Phantom is canon compliant through D-Stabilized. Angel is canon compliant through Epiphany (Angel has just rejoined Angel Investigations after helping with the Skilosh demons).

Prologue - Way of Change

Prologue - Way of Change

“I don’t see why you want me to come with you,” Cordelia grumbled, grabbing her purse from the air as Phantom Dennis handed it to her.

Wesley sighed, rubbing his temples. “Because, Cordelia, I am still recovering from a bullet wound and some of the things we have to get here may be up for a limited time. You may have to get them if I am resting.”

“It’s ‘cuz Gunn said no, isn’t it?”

“…And the convention is during the day, so Angel can’t join.” Wesley mumbled in defeat.

“Hey! Does that mean I’m your last choice?” Cordelia asked, hands on her hips as she glared.

“Dead last,” Wesley answered dryly. “I even tried asking Patricia - the prostitute who works two corners down from the Hyperion? - if she would accompany me and she said no.”

“Dennis,” Cordelia muttered and that was Wesley’s only warning before something was flying at his head. Instinct kicked in and Wesley ducked just in time. He hissed as the movement pulled harshly at his side. The stitches had been removed by now, but the area was still tender and didn’t like sudden movements.

“Cordelia,” he said, pressing his hand to the injured spot, the pressure relieving some of the strain, as he watched the rubber ball roll harmlessly away. It would’ve hurt less to get struck than it had to duck.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Just because you’re standing doesn’t mean you’re fine. Are you sure you don’t need the wheelchair?” She asked, gesturing to it. “It’ll fit in my car.”

“Maybe we should bring it,” Wesley conceded. He hated the wheel chair, hated feeling like an invalid - he was a trained Watcher, damn it! - but now wasn’t the time for pride. There was nothing wrong with others using wheelchairs, but a voice in his head - that sounded oddly like his father - told him he should be ashamed whenever he used it and wasn’t actively bleeding to death. He sunk down onto the couch, breathing through the pain radiating in his abdomen.

Cordelia’s face softened somewhat and she walked over, gently running her hand through his hair for just a moment. “You got it, boss,” she said, grabbing the wheelchair and heading out the door, Dennis closing it behind her.

Wesley stretched cautiously, the pain fading mercifully as he did so. He was briefly reminded of the time Angel got stabbed through with rebar and how rapidly Angel had recovered from that, and couldn’t help but be a little jealous. The vampire had been fine within a day, but Wesley was still suffering months after his injury. He’d never have thought being blown up would be a comparative walk in the park, but it certainly had been.

A familiar chill brushed along Wesley’s arm and he shivered as goosebumps formed. “Thanks, Dennis,” he mumbled, recognizing the gesture as one of comfort. Wesley smirked a little as he thought about his life.

Friends with and boss of a souled vampire, a Seer as an all-but-blood sister, able to be comforted by a ghost, with plans for a drink with an empath demon that evening. What would the Wesley Wyndam-Pryce who had first arrived in Sunnydale fresh out of Academy have thought of him now?

“Alright, the chair is in the car, you ready to head to the convention?” Cordelia said as she walked back in, eyeing him cautiously. He waved her off as he got himself up, the aggravated wound finally settled down.

“I am,” he said, making a point of walking by himself, past her and out the door, quickly running through the list of everything they needed to get. Supernatural conventions were few and far between - supernatural conventions that weren’t 100% poppycock were even rarer - but Cordy had checked their website and found one of the vendors there was reputable, even having an ancient text Wesley had been looking for. It was yet another volume of apocalyptic prophecy, but one that had been mentioned in conjunction with the Shanshu prophecy in some of the texts he had cross-referenced with, and Wes was determined to get it, especially now that Angel had chosen to return to the fold, to the side of good instead of revenge.

“Still don’t get why I gotta go,” Cordelia muttered as she locked up behind them, drawing a small smile from Wesley.

Yeah, the old Wesley wouldn’t even be able to comprehend who he had now become.

~~~~~~

“I can’t believe we agreed to come along,” Tucker grumbled, words barely audible over Jack’s excited blathering in the front seat.

Sam shrugged. “What else were we gonna do? Technus blew up your computer and your parents won’t let you near tech for the rest of summer because of it.”

“Sorry about that,” Danny threw in.

Sam kicked him for his interruption. “And I’d rather go to hell than spend a weekend with my folks, much less the entire summer! And not the boring hell in your basement Danny -” Sam ignored Danny’s indignant Hey! -“but an actual hell. With demons instead of ghosts.”

“Demons aren’t real, Sam,” Danny said with an eye roll, that was interrupted when they hit a pothole and the motion jarred the burn still healing on his side.

“Says you!”

“Yes, says the,” Danny glanced up front, making sure his parents were still blathering away about high level science that may as well have been a dead language to him, dropping his voice to a whisper, “half ghost superhero who’s seen the afterlife. There’s nothing else here with us, no demons or witches or vampires. 'Kay?"

“Danny, you really should keep a more open mind,” Tucker said, shrugging, not bothering to keep his voice low like the others had. “We have proof the supernatural exists, after all.”

“Oh, there’s nothing supernatural about ghosts, sweetie!” Maddie chimed in. Tucker grimaced as Sam and Danny glared at him, knowing they’d just been pulled into another discussion with the elder Fentons none of the teens actually wanted, something that had happened many, many times in the very, very long drive from Amity Park, Illinois to Los Angeles, California. 

“Ghosts are all science! It’s the law of conservation of energy! Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Humans are a particular type of energy. Sometimes, emotions can cause the energy to fail to dissipate back to the ether properly, not going back into the available free energy of the universe, thus ghosts who have traumatic deaths -” Danny was grateful his mother didn’t see him flinch “- can sometimes remain as an echo. Magic, witchcraft, demonology? They’re all fake!”

Danny saw Sam and Tucker’s eyes glaze over around the same time his did, as his mother delved (again) into the scientific particulars of why ghosts were possible and magic wasn’t.

It was almost funny, Danny realized, as he thought about the last time he’d been dragged to one of these conventions two years ago, a month before his accident, when this was all insanity to him. Back then, he’d have been willing to bet his life that ghosts weren’t real, that it was all a big old hoax.

…in a way, he supposed, that was exactly what he had done. He’d gambled, and he’d lost. He adjusted slightly in his seat as the unwelcome thoughts forced their way through his mind, not even the pain of another pothole washing them away. Jazz was trying to help him be more positive - remember that he was lucky he hadn’t completely died, completely gone away.

Sometimes, though, he wondered if he did completely die in that portal. The Danny of today was nothing like the Danny before the accident. Danny now was strong, sure, swift. He had confidence, he could fight and think on his feet, plan on the fly. He had saved the world a time or two, even. But as a human? Danny had been meek and cowardly, fleeing and hiding and letting someone else take the hits the bullies threw. It wasn’t a bad change, of course not, but… he didn’t feel like the same person.

He didn’t feel like the Daniel Fenton who’d died at fourteen, who’s life was taken by careless mistake.

Danny was still staring off into space when Sam nudged him with her boot, looking at him curiously. He grinned sheepishly at her, finally tuning back into the conversation, realizing his parents had again managed to talk the teens out of the discussion again. “Oh thank the Ancients,” he mumbled.

Sam reached out to Tucker, snatching his beret from his head and whacking him with it repeatedly. He squeaked in terror at the onslaught, holding his arms up to protect himself. “Not the face, Sam!” Tucker whined while Danny cackled, his parents electing to ignore the display of violence in the backseat (probably because it didn’t give them the chance to prattle on about ghosts, if Danny had to guess).

Danny relaxed as the scene shifted back to something approaching normal, with his friends arguing while his parents talked nonsense. If he ignored the way the bodies beside him were too warm, if he ignored the hum of his core, if he ignored the way his teeth were a little too sharp against his tongue, he could pretend he was normal, pretend he was a human with abilities, instead of a dead child possessing his own corpse. 

Yeah, he didn’t think pre-accident Danny would even recognize himself anymore. He’d run, terrified of the monster he’d become.

~~~~~~

“Ugh, man, why’d we have to come here?” The vampire whined, lighting up a cigarette. Sure, his breath wasn’t real, but the nicotine still made his shriveled heart dance and they just tasted good, he’d explained.

“Do I look like I make the decisions here?” His friend answered, twirling her blonde hair around one of her fingers. “Still, like it more than where we left.”

“Are you crazy?” James demanded. “I’d rather be in Rome! God, the virgins. The convents! Those Catholic girls, whoa boy. They had some fun fight in them. Almost got off just from them struggling!”

Sheila rolled her eyes, flicking her own cigarette butt into the pile in front of them, grinning at the whimper it elicited. “Too many damn crucifixes for my tastes. Virgins don’t taste any better than the streetwalkers. ‘Least the whores had cocaine in their blood sometimes.”

“Did you lose your sense of taste when you got turned?” He huffed, reaching into the pile and jerking one of them out, ignoring the pathetic let me go as it whimpered in his grasp. “You can’t tell me this doesn’t taste like spoiled meat?”

Sheila grinned and grabbed the quivering human from James, rapidly sinking her teeth into its neck, relishing the warm blood as she sucked, the human’s screams a seductive song in her ears. She drank until she felt the human - a girl, she idly noticed - begin to weaken, pulse fading. Sheila pulled away, wrapping blood from her mouth and letting go of the girl, who collapsed immediately to the ground, sobbing and clenching at the bleeding wound. She made a show of licking her lips as she settled her face back down into a more human-esque appearance. “Nope. Tastes like filet mignon, like every other human.”

James sighed. “You must have had no taste before you died, then,” he grumbled, pulling a snack of his own from the pile of humans at their feet, all bloodied and weakened. They had been told not to hunt more than necessary - told they needed to make their food last as long as possible, they couldn’t risk being discovered by the forces of good in this town, not while their boss was making his plans.

“I was a chef before I died, remember?” Sheila pointed out, tossing up her feet, ‘accidentally’ kicking one of the humans in the stomach before using it as a footstool.

James just rolled his eyes as he dug into the man he’d grabbed and Sheila eyed the girl she’d dropped. Mid 20s, blonde, pretty for a human. Sheila was reminded of her own humanity, the one she’d had mercifully taken from her nearly twenty years ago. A simpering little thing - in training to become a nun, volunteering at food kitchens and charities, always so weighed down by the pain of the people around her, praying to a God she refused to believe had turned His back on them, despite the evidence He had. She’d screamed and begged when her Sire had found her leaving the homeless shelter she’d volunteered at, pleaded with him to find God in his heart and let her live.

He’d instead transformed her into a higher being, one freed from the restraints and cares and fears of humanity, and Sheila had embraced it. She almost laughed, thinking of the stupid, worthless little big she’d been before her death.

If only human Sheila could see herself now, see the proof God had long since abandoned them. She’d have ran from the monster Sheila was now - a thought that made Sheila grin.

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 6 - Now and Den

On his way back to his hiding spot, Matchstick encounters the Silver Fang once more, in the process of building a new den for itself. However, a surprise is waiting for him when he gets back to his own.

Is it... normal for giant forest cryptids to feel sorry for you?

~*~

Mystic

Running back into the woods, he’s a lot more lucid this time around. The wonders that fresh(ish) water and food could do! He can even see faint scorch marks where his hands had dug into the earth whenever he tripped and dragged himself up again, singeing it from the stress. That was no good- obvious tracks. A few kicks at the soil was enough to erase the evidence.

While jogging, it occurred to him that his hidey-hole might not be safe and secure anymore. The former occupant had returned. Clearly they made the original den. Granted, they left him there and didn’t aggress, but was it worth the risk to piss off a big creature for a hole in the ground?

-and before he could reach the spot he’d marked (with a subtle singe mark on a tree bough), his travails through the woods are interrupted by the sight of a big silver tail, sticking out of the earth and draping over the ground. Every now and then, big puffs of dirt are thrown out into the air behind it, forming a pile of turned earth past the stocky silver-shingled legs.

Shit. This thing was still here. And it was- digging? This wasn’t the spot where he’d found the hole. Was it making a new one?

Spooky

Whatever it was hadn't seemed interested in eating him, but he was still hesitant to get too close. If it was making a new hole, maybe it truly had abandoned the other one after finding him in it... but who the hell knows, it wasn't like he could ask.

Nervously biting his lip, he did his best to move stealthily behind the trees, past where the huge creature was snuffling and burrowing. He probably didn't have to worry about making noise so much, since it seemed pretty busy and its head was literally underground at the moment, but he still crept as quietly as he could... and then took off running towards his hiding spot once he felt he was far enough past that point.

Man, he was gonna need to plan out another route to that house if he didn't wanna keep running into that thing...

But that was a problem for future him.

For now, it was back to his- ...giant... very conspicuous pile of discarded food trash that wasn't there earlier.

He slowed to a stop and just stared at it. Holy shit, had he really eaten that much food since hiding out there? Didn't feel like there was nearly that much trash in there, but it was also dark so it was not like he could tell. The tunnel had some freshly scraped up earth at the bottom of it, and the same went for the inside floor of the den. All empty now, save for big sweeping claw marks that were a dead giveaway as to which giant silver armor-plated creature had done this.

....But why, though?!

Mystic

No answers were forthcoming from the trash pile, which was his only company. Maybe it was just meticulous about keeping clean burrows. Hopefully that didn’t mean it was coming back.

…and now that it was in isolation, and he’d had a good face washing while guzzling down that pond water, boy did it stink. He’d been sleeping in that. He must smell awful.

scrnkkkkk

Oh wow, THAT was a loud noise. Some sort of- dirt grinding sound? It was coming from back the way he came, where the creature was digging.

shfff shf-shf

Leaves rustling. Or being removed.

What in the hell was it-

thnk thd thshf

Fuck, it was coming back!

Spooky

He was about to go back in the hole for a second, but stopped himself, realizing he'd just be trapped in there again, and instead he ducked behind the small mountain of trash. He quickly regretted that choice when the smell hit him even more strongly, and he backed up with a grimace not unlike the one the creature had made when sniffing him earlier.

As the creature came into view, he panicked, looked around, and scurried behind the nearest tree instead, still not really realizing that his eyes were still cartoonishly visible as he peeked out from behind it. He kept forgetting that little detail...

Mystic

Soon enough, the creature returns from the other clearing where it had been digging the second hole. It walks with a strange gait that felt almost- awkward? The front claws were held up off the ground, as it stepped with the slouched posture of an eighty-year-old. In those strange paws it clutched a small, lightly dirty set of plastic bags- one empty, and the other bulging with unknown contents. The head swiveled back and forth, making a half-hearted check of the area, before it takes hesitant steps once again. It didn’t appear to notice him yet.

Satisfied, it slunk back towards the hole in the ground. Making a low rumble in its throat, it peeks into the hole. Seeing nothing, it backs up, and drops the bag containing things unknowable right at the hole entrance. With the remaining empty bag, it turns toward the trash pile. Turns out he made a good judgement call, as the silver beast lays out the plastic- and begins shoveling it with its massive clawed paws onto the plastic sheet. They definitely weren’t enjoying this, as their muzzle scrunches up in disgust once again. Oh yeah, he definitely smelled like garbage if it made that face at him.

Upon scooping all trash remnants into a pile, it then sits on its haunches, and begins the delicate process of pulling the corners of the bag up to cinch it closed… odd. That was a very human gesture for a distinctly non-human beast to do. Regardless, it struggles, grunting in annoyance any time its claws pierce the bag.

All finished, it picks up the freshly wrapped garbage, turns to leave-

-and stops dead in its tracks, making eye contact with him.

Spooky

It didn't help he'd leaned out further, trying to get a good look at what it was doing. Seeing it work so meticulously with giant claws was quite a sight... Though he wasn't entirely sure what it was doing with all that trash. The closest comparison he could make was whenever he caught a glimpse of those humans with those big plastic buckets, pulling similar bags out of the smaller buckets around the lab and gathering them up to wheel them away to... somewhere.

He watched it heft up the huge bag and start to carry it off- did it want the trash for some reason?- but he realized too late as it stopped and stared right at him that he wasn't being as stealthy as he thought he was. He looked back up at it nervously, eyes blown wide and his mouth drawn into a tight line as he slowly tried to move back behind the tree. Like that would actually work.

Mystic

As he ducks back into hiding, the thing takes slow steps of its own in retreat. The plastic bag of garbage fumbles in its grip- amazing it even managed to hold it to begin with- and it drops with a clatter of junk.

It glances from the garbage bag, to him, then back to the other bag it left behind, then to him again. Then back to the unknown bag on the ground.

In a swift movement, it ducks its head down behind the second bag, and extends its neck to push the bag across the grassy earth in his direction. The very next moment, it quickly grabs the garbage bag- in its mouth, this time, revealing a jaw full of sharp teeth. Dropping down to all four limbs, it pivots, and takes off at a swift sprint back the way it came. Branches crunch and leaves rustle in its wake, before it vanishes completely from hearing and sight.

Spooky

He watched it trundle off into the woods, his mouth slightly agape, before he looked at the bag it left behind.

So... it was leaving something for him? This giant creature was trying to give him something. Was that... a normal thing for forest creatures to do? ...Man, he didn't know shit about wild animals, but that didn't seem like something that was supposed to happen??

He really wasn't used to being given something at all, let alone from a huge beast that looked like it could eat him. Especially with a mouth fulla sharp teeth like that... He poked at his own teeth with his tongue. He had some sharp ones too, and he'd put them to use easily enough in opening some of those metal liquefied food cylinders that he found in that big building with the locked food boxes behind it, but... They still weren't nearly big and sharp as those.

...

Oh right, bag.

Well, only one way to find out what was in it... He knelt down next to it and opened it up.

Mystic

Opening the plastic bag proved to be less of a challenge than anticipated. The moment he gave it any kind of slack, the opening was practically forced open from the inside, as something that had been compressed within is given release. A plush square of linen pops out, filled with some sort of soft stuffing. It squishes pleasingly under his touch.

Underneath the small explosion of pillow softness was a pile of more fabrics- thicker, and stitched together in patterns. Pulling it free revealed that it was a very wide rectangle of this cloth, and also soft to the touch.

It left him soft things, and took the pile of trash with it. Huh.

He had lost his previous nesting material, but...

Spooky

These seemed like a pretty good trade!

It was almost fascinating how soft this material was. And squishy. He gave the plush square a few more pokes, before pressing his whole hand into it. Removing his hand, though, he was surprised to see it kind of expand back into the shape it was in before. Guess that was how it fit in the bag...

This was... kind of exciting, really! He could only just barely remember something like this at the lab, from way back when he was still small… A semi-soft rectangle that he used to sleep on, at least before he outgrew it. It had been so long that he’d almost completely forgotten…

Aware that he was still in the open, though, he quickly scooped up the materials- along with the bag, figuring it might be useful for carrying things later even if he couldn't quite fit the soft stuff back in it- and squirreled them away into the den.

It still smelled a little bad down there, but probably not as much as before... But whatever, it was safe. He plopped down with the soft material, letting it fall in his lap. The big cloth wasn't as squishy as the square was, but it felt nice to run his hands over. It also made his legs feel warm beneath its cover, or at least kept away the subterranean chill. Mostly though, he loved this squishy thing. He was quick to pick it back up and smoosh his face into it. It made him feel a little silly, and a rare smile quirked up at the corners of his mouth as he let out a small, raspy chuff of a laugh.

Pulling it away from his face, he wrapped his arms around it and squeezed it against his chest, resting his chin on top of it with a relaxed sigh. This felt nice...

Mystic

There was no mistaking it- that big silver thing definitely left these for him, as some sort of present. Something to replace the trash pile as far more suitable bedding. Why, he could only guess. Perhaps it was taking pity on him, after seeing its old den filled with trash and a teenager that stank of rotten food.

...he's sunk quite low, for a forest creature- questionable intelligence notwithstanding- to take pity on him.

But then, was it truly wild? It behaved in much the same way that a human from the town would. There were mannerisms in its behavior that were far more sentient than a simple animal.

A full meal, thirst quenched, and soft squishy things acquired for his safety den. For once, he felt satisfied, and... safe.

Spooky

Wild forest creature or not... Whatever that huge beast was, it seemed better than people. Way nicer, anyway. He remembered all the false promises of 'helping him' he was fed back in the lab, when they only ever seemed to hurt him instead. Even if the big silver thing was only helping him because it felt bad for him, at least this felt like actual help.

It gave him a lot to think about, but after spending a good chunk of his waking moments today feeling like he was gonna die, only to end up snuggling up in soft materials with his stomach finally feeling sated for the time being... Yeah, a lot had happened, and needless to say, he was feeling pretty tired...

Still sitting with his back against the wall, he pulled the blankets up around himself and curled up around the pillow, finally feeling safe enough to get some much needed rest.

~*~

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[ciaossu-imagines]

Personalization Prompt #2 – ShoheiAkagi

So, for the reader appreciation day of the event, I used the second personalization prompt for the lovely @shoheiakagi! As always, their blog is definitely a recommended K blog for any fans and the person themselves is wonderfully supportive! I hope they’ll enjoy 😊

BLACK: what face claim from an anime, comic book, or cartoon do I associate with you?

So, though you’re Lenalee Lee in The Ever Young, when it comes down to the image of you I have in my mind, the closest face claim I could come up with was Nana Komatsu. I don’t know much about the character themselves, I’ve mostly just seen the amazing artwork of the manga, but she has the colouring and the sort of elegant but sweet ‘good girl’ look to her I imagine you having.

WHITE: what flame type and box weapon do I think you’d have in the khr!verse?

Hmm, this was a fun one to think about for you, especially since KHR isn’t a universe I’ve pictured you in a lot, as it’s not one of the fandoms we share in common! I do think you’d be a Cloud Flame user though, with your box weapon animal being a pair of swans, one white and one black! I’m using both just imagery and the spiritual meaning behind swans and I think it’s a pretty cool box weapon for a cool person 😊

RED: what aesthetics do I associate with you?

High heels clicking along crowded city sidewalks. Head held high, confidence and elegance. Imagination and longing for something beyond just this one life. Pastels and sweetness combined with wicked grins. Angels and demons, the juxtaposition of good and wickedness. The draw of a danger. Remembered love. Freshly manicured fingernails. Cocktails. Velvet and steel, softness and strength. Concerts, packed full of people, the energy at an all time high.

BLUE: what are three songs I’d put on a playlist for you?

DATE WITH THE NIGHT, yeah yeah yeahs

BEST OF ME, morningwood

I LOVE MYSELF TODAY, bif naked

YELLOW: what fictional world out of all my fandoms would I picture you in?

Of course, the answer is really obvious here in that it’s K Project! Not only is it the fandom we share and talk most about, but before I even put it up on my fandom to write list, I was following your K blog.

GREEN: who would I pair you with out of all my fandoms?

For KHR, it’s Dino. For K Project, it’s Shouhei. For Nanbaka, it’s Uno. For Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun, it’s General Furfur. For Bungou Stray Dogs, it’s Tachihara. For Servamp, it’s Mikuni. For Saiyuki, it’s Gojyo. For Eyeshield 21, it’s Hiruma. For Ronin Warriors, it’s Sage. For Kekkaishi, it’s Makio. For GetBackers, it’s Kazuki. For Black Cat, it’s Jenos. For Karneval, it’s Tsukitachi. For Gangsta., it’s Worick. For Bleach, it’s Renji. For Naruto, it’s Kakashi. For Deadman Wonderland, it’s Yo Takami. For Ouran, it’s the twins, both of them. For Durarara, it’s Izaya. For Yu Yu Hakusho, it’s Yusuke. For Gintama, it’s Takasugi. For Mystic Messenger, it’s Saeyoung. For Ikemen Revolution, it’s Dalim. For Blush Blush, it’s Eli. For Date Warp, it’s Linds. For Hatoful Boyfriend, it’s Kazuaki. For The Outsiders, it’s Dally. For Class of the Titans, it’s Neil. For Ultimate Spider-Man, it’s Flash. For Gravity Falls, it’s Stan. For The Mighty Ducks, it’s Portman. For The Covenant, it’s Pogue. For Jungle Fury, it’s R.J. For Ninja Storm, it’s Hunter. For Mystic Force, it’s Xander.

PURPLE: what gif reminds me of you?

PINK: if you were an AU, what type of AU would you be?

Just because I have an AU inspired by your ideas on this, it’s definitely a delinquent! AU with strong bad boy meets good girl romance vibes.

RAINBOW: if i were to write a khr sequel, following Tsuna’s demise, and could only use my reader’s as characters, who would you be?

I see you as the next head of CEDEF. You stand apart from the family, but are a strong and supportive resource for them whenever you’re needed and your intelligence and good leadership skills allow you to supervise and recruit people into the division.