#this concussion is giving me too much time in bed to think and complain

[hischierhoney]

bruised — a nico hischier x reader blurb

warnings: mentions of injury/bruises/blood, undefined relationship

There’s a bruise on Nico’s ribs.

It’s dark and purple and big, splotchy across his bare skin. It looks worse in the stark kitchen light at 2am than it did in the picture he’d sent you the day before. The one he’d taken in the hotel room, a funny grimace on his face, captioned with something about warning you so it didn’t scare you when he got home. Home. After nearly two weeks straight, he’s here. Standing in the kitchen, shirtless. Your kitchen. He’d gotten off the plane and got in his car and drove over.

It’s messing with your head, a little bit.

You’ve been friends with him for a while now, since he moved to Jersey and you made mutual friends. There was a shift, though, months ago- at the end of the last season, in that tiny sliver of time between seemingly endless games and his trip back to Switzerland. Maybe one too many drinks, a little bit too much mutual liquid courage. It had ended with you in his bed that night, and then in the morning, too, a sheepish grin on his lips and a blush on his cheeks.

Then he’d flown off to Switzerland and you’d moved on.

Until- until he came back, and he got stressed and complained about it to you, and you’d offered stress relief in the best way you knew how, and it ended with you on your knees, his head tossed back against the couch, and the look of relief on his face afterwards was so worth it. Worth doing it again, and again, and when you’d been stressed he’d reciprocated, taking you out of your own head for just a second, and-

And now you’re the type of friends who have to warn each other about their bruises, because he knows you’re going to see his bruises. Now he’s the type of friend who’s standing in your kitchen shirtless at 2 in the morning. Now he’s eating your ice cream, straight out of the tub, taking bites between sentences as he tells you about the roadie, as he complains about Jack’s yapping on the flight home, as he turns too fast and winces, his hand coming up to press at his ribs, still holding the spoon between his fingers.

“Looks worse than it did in the pictures,” you tell him, nodding at his side.

His face twists. “Feels worse than it did,” he admits.

He must see the worry on your face, the frantic feeling of did you get it checked are you okay what if you’re hurt, because his face softens, and he gives you something between a smile and a grimace.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Nothing’s broken. Was just a hard hit.”

“This is where you tell me I should see the other guy,” you say, laughing, hoping he believes it’s genuine.

You can’t explain it, is the thing. Why you’re feeling like this. It’s just. The bruise is giant, and you’d watched him take the hit on your tv screen, watched him get shoved up against the boards, and. It had nearly wrenched your heart out of your chest. Like someone had reached past your own ribs and squeezed. And you didn’t understand, still don’t, because he’s played hockey the whole time you’ve known him and you’ve never felt like that before, never been curled up on the couch, hand pressed to your mouth, waiting for him to get back up. Get back up. Please get back up. Come on, baby, get up-

Nico sees straight through you. He sets the ice cream down and makes his way around the kitchen island, a soft smile on his lips. You bite back a gasp when he takes your hand in his, his fingers still cold from the carton, and brings it up to his side. To the bare skin, mottled with dark colors.

“I’m okay,” he says, looking down at you where you sit on the stool. “I don’t break that easily.”

You chew on your lip, thinking of concussions and scratches and that clip of him playing in Switzerland over the summer, blood running down his cheek, the one that almost made you call him even when you swore you wouldn’t be that girl. You press your palm over the bruise, softly, and find relief in the warmth of his skin. It’s just a bruise.

He leans down and presses a kiss against the crown of your head, and then stays, nose buried in your hair. He cradles the back of your head in the palm of his hand, holding you close, and- this feels like something friends don’t do. It feels like more.

“I’ll always come back to you, baby,” he says.

The ice cream is melting on the counter. But when you lean up to kiss him, you can’t bring yourself to care.

…..

hi this popped into my head and i had to write it. very much unedited hope you enjoyed!

…..

[songmingisthighs]

[12:14] boxer!san × nurse!reader

⇀ he's your favourite outlaw and it's not because of his rugged charm, surprisingly it's because of how tender he actually is

⇁ bouncy killed me istfg

⇁ happy sannie day ❣️❣️

genre : boxer!au, romance, outlaw!ateez

wc : 1.8 k

It didn't take much for you to recognize him.

Even with his body sitting down and leaning on the stairs as he faced the floor, you could easily recognize that it was him.

You wanted to greet him as you usually would, but as you got closer, you noticed something weird about him. His back was moving in a rhythmical manner like how he usually would when he was breathing but it was slower than usual. The closer you get, the more you realize that he had cuts on his arm and some bruises.

"Oh my God, San," you called, rushing to his side as quickly as you could, your fatigue from 12 hours shift suddenly went away at the sight of his bloodied tank top. You knelt in front of him and peeked up to see that he had his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed but he wasn't responsive. Usually, at the sound of your voice, the flirt would throw you a lazy gaze and a Cheshire-like grin that would make you blush and sputter. But seeing him in this unresponsive position actually scared you. You genuinely felt like something was wrong and knowing that he was an underground fighter makes the situation even worse for you.

"San, can you hear me?" you asked as you made an initial assessment, hands brushing his bangs out of his eyes to look at his face. From the get-go, you could see that he had a bruised cheekbone, a busted lip, and possibly a concussion. You can only imagine what his body must be like. And you meant that as in the bruises on his torso and not how it must look. Because you know damn well it's sculpted as fuck from the many times he walked past you and intentionally flashed you his abs.

You tried lifting his head up but he let out a grunt and shook his head. "Too bright," he complained.

Understanding this, you nodded and moved to sit next to him closely as you brought one of his arms and rest it on your shoulder. "I need to take you to my apartment so I can properly tend to your wounds. Do you think you can move?" true to his mannerism, he chuckled and leaned his head to the crook of your neck like a feline seeking contact, "How 'bout you give me some sugar first? That might help me gain some strength." You automatically rolled your eyes at his remark but you had to admit his words made you feel better because at least you know that he was fine. "Okay big guy, we're moving you," you stated as you started pulling him up and leading him to the elevator. "Big guy? Have you been checking me out, pretty?" he teased. You kept quiet thought because a. yes, and b. he needs to shut up.

The elevator ride up was thankfully not that hard as San was holding his own weight for the most part, you just guide him so he wouldn't sway or even fall down. He also stayed quiet which concerned you but you were just glad that he was still moving. Sure, he stumbled slightly as he got into your apartment, but other than that, he settled down on your couch easily and even respectfully towards your cat.

You rushed to get the first aid kit that you always kept stocked in your bedroom, knowing that San and his roommate, Wooyoung, would sometimes come knocking in after a night of fighting be it in the ring or in an alley with people they messed with. So it wasn't really a surprise to go back to your living room to see your tabby cat, Taco, splayed on San's lap looking like he just found the comfiest bed ever. You obviously wouldn't mind trying but for now, you just wanted to make sure that San was alright.

"Taco, move away from Sannie, mommy needs to clean him," you called out as you sat next to San. But Taco, in all his absolute pettiness, simply lift his head up and stared dead straight into your eyes as if challenging you as he fluff up San's thighs with his pudgy paws. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at your hellraiser with equal challenge, letting him know that he was not the boss of you. When he didn't move his chubby butt, you were forced to deliver the last blow, "Or else no snacks." That seemed to speak to him on a profound level as he jumped off after giving you one last dirty look and retreated into your bedroom. "Sorry about him," you grinned sheepishly, taking San's hand into your lap as you began cleaning the first wound your eyes fell on. San couldn't even feel the pain of his wound getting cleaned anymore, so instead of worrying over the result of the last night's fight, he focused his eyes o you, "No worries, I like him. And I love the fact that you called me Sannie to Taco which leads me to believe that you might have been talking about me to him a lot," he teased.

Your eyes widened at his (very accurate) assumption and you wanted to believe that he didn't notice the blush that bloomed on your face, an absolute testament to what this man could do to you without doing much. "So," you cleared your throat, "What happened?" you asked, changing the topic before he could tease you more. "What else do you think? I won," he boasted, proud that he made bank from his hard night's work.

Though it was a good thing that he won, you couldn't help but sigh in disappointment hearing that he went rounds upon rounds to secure his achievement. "I worry about you," you blurted out, turning around to get betadine and a cotton pad to dress his wound properly. Though San had a confident look on his face, he could feel his heart skipped a beat at your confession. "Why so?" He asked, hopeful. Without lookinf up at him, you answered casually, "Because I don't like seeing you getting hurt like this," but even in that tone, San could sense that you were being genuine.

In all honesty, San teased you because he thought that was the only way he could get your attention. Sure he had hoped that the the spare glances you threw at him were actually sincerely from your heart but he can't convince himself that someone with a legitimate career like you would want to have anything to do with a bloodied bastard who beat people up for money. So San settled for the lowest expectation because that's what peope always expect of the underdog anyways. But your words were shaking his belief down like a stickhouse in an elephant stampede, which goes to show how strong San's resolve is towards you and it's bad. He was down bad. Part of him was glad that you seemed to want to keep an arm's length from him but part of him want to be in your lap at night, having your fingers card through his hair softly as you told him again and again how glad you were that he was able to come home in one piece. Because that's what he actually want, a home.

San's mind was snapped back into reality when he noticed you were snapping your fingers in front of his face and calling out his name. "San??" You called out again with furrowed eyebrows, "Shit, I think you're having a concussion," you muttered, moving your position so that his body was straight, facing forward. "Eh?" San blinked confusedly with a slightly tilted head, looking so much like Taco whenever you brought a jinggly toy near him. Thankfully you were too busy making sure San didn't have brain damage to blush and sputter, trying to do your job as best as you could for him. You situated yourself at a fair distance, not to close yet not too far and you put both of your hands between you and him and held out a finger each. "Can you see my fingers clearly?" With your best effort, you tried to suppress the fact that you were very much worried about him because it wasn't your time to show emotions and ended up having him worry over you instead. Looking at your fingers, San did a double take before his relaxed-confused look turned into disbelief-confused, "Are you flipping me off?" He scoffed. Almost immediately you let out a sigh of relief before straightening up and nodded, "I had to get a reaction out of you, you were mumbling about a parrot talking about chilli peppers when you were zoning out, I had to know if it was concussion or perhaps you took something."

Just as you were about to turn around to get a damp rag, San pulled you with his powerful strength, causing you to yelp and freeze when you realized that you had fell into a particularly compromising position. Your hands were on his strong, broad shoulders with your left leg bent and resting on the outside of San's right thigh and the other in between his spread legs while San had one hand on your wrist and the other on your waist with a confident, lazy smile on his face. God how much you want to wipe that grin off his face. With your own lips.

"Baby, why would I take drugs when a moment with you gets me high for days?" And of course he had to make your stomach flip by pecking you gently on the nose. Your breath hitched and a small squeak escaped from your clamped mouth, not knowing what to do other than stare at him with wide eyes. San seemed amused at how you reacted however, pulling away and leaning back against the couch with arms spread wide, the confident bastard.

For a moment you sputtered, eyes darting everywhere but San's face before remembering what you wanted to get merely moments ago. You somehow found the strength to stand on your two feet and turn to the kitchen but not before tripping on your feet slightly and almost falling. You didn't even have to turn to know that San was looking at you amusedly, delighting in how affected you were by him but this time it wasn't because he just wanted to see a reaction out of you. He was seeing you in the light of someone he had a chance of having normalcy with. So while you were cursing yourself for being a klutz, San was enjoying the domestic fantasy in his head.

That was until loud knocks were heard from your front door that was followed by a very familiar screeching voice that made Taco jump out and hiss at the direction.

"CHOI SAN YOU LITTLE BITCH YOU LEFT ME IN THE DUMPSTER!!"

So much for domestic peace.

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[anawrites3]

Jaydick, but Dick gives Jason a big mommy kink

It was a joke, at first.

The first time it happened they were in the Cave, having just came back from the patrol. The night was considered a huge success because for all the bullshit that managed to happen in the span of those few hours anyone barely got hurt at all.

Instead, everyone was fucking exhausted. Jason’s fingers were still slightly shaking as he fastened the last bandage around his arm, not to mention the way his eyes kept slipping shut. Boy, was he grateful he didn’t get hit in the head that day because he didn’t think he’d be able to stay up, even if he would have concussion.

That’s why he was planning on crashing in the Manor. Bruce was there too, obviously, but Jason was too tired to worry about that asshole right then. He was going to throw himself onto one of the beds in guests’ bedrooms and sleep for as long as his body needed him to.

He said a quick goodnight to Alfred who wished him a good rest with a smile. He didn’t say a word earlier when Jason announced he’d be staying the night and Jason in turn didn’t comment on the fact that a bedroom for him was already prepared. Jason was too tired to deal with that right then – and he’d have other excuses not to later – so he saluted to the rest of the clan, before starting towards the stairs.

That’s when it happened the first time.

“Hit the shower before you go to sleep, Jay.” Dick called after him. He was sitting in the medical area of the Cave, stripped down to just his underwear so Alfred could stitch up the cut on his calf. “You’ll feel less like shit when you wake up.”

“Master Dick-” Alfred chastised.

Jason rolled his eyes but found he wasn’t actually annoyed. His relationship with Dick was… better, now. Way better than what he expected they’d ever had, especially with everything Jason did before. But here they were. Jason wasn’t going to complain.

“Sure, mom!” He called back.

Dick just smiled.

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

The next time it happened, Jason didn’t think too much of it either.

He was in the middle of baking when Dick broke into one of his safehouses – the one that was currently serving Jason as home and the one that Dick absolutely shouldn’t know about – and started talking to him about a case he needed help with. Jason decided to actually play nice and help him out, even if he was kind of annoyed that Dick found him.

If anything else he could at least be certain that the big bird won’t blab the location of it to Bruce.

And… then there was that whole thing of him feeling… something about the fact Dick turned to Jason when he actually needed help. Not to Babs, not to Tim. Not to the rest of the birds and bats. Him.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna think too hard about that.

On the other hand though, Jason was in the middle of baking. And he always got bitchy when he got interrupted while doing something in the kitchen – and Dick freaking knew that. It never stopped him, of course, not even from trying to steal the dough or popping a bit of chocolate into his mouth whenever he thought Jason wasn’t watching.

Jason was less annoyed about that than he thought he’d be, too. Huh. Yeah, not touching that one right now either.

“Oh yeah, come to mama.” Dick said, reaching for one of the cookies as soon as Jason placed the tray on the counter in front of him.

Jason cocked an eyebrow at that.

“Mama?” He teased with a grin. “Wouldn’t you be more of a daddy or something?”

Dick moaned around the cookie in his mouth, “I can be whatever you want me to be, as long as I’ll get to eat more of these.”

-----------

And then-

“It’s not one of Bruce’s galas, Dick, I don’t have to look like I just walked out of the fashion magazine.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Dick ignored him as if he didn’t even open his mouth, making sure his sleeves were rolled up evenly.

They were getting ready for an uncover mission or – more precisely – Jason was. Dick was spending this one in the Cave as his eyes and Bruce was going to keep watch from the roof of neighboring building, ready to drop in if anything got too out of hand. Jason was the one going in this time, simply because their target haven’t seen him before.

Jason hated the fact that Bruce was going to be his support. Not like he could do much about it, with Dick still healing his injuries and Tim being away but still.

“It won’t hurt. You need to stand out.” Dick smiled. “Besides, I don’t get to see you in a suit very often. I need to take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Sure.” He drawled sarcastically but allowed Dick to fuss over him a few minutes longer.

It was true though, Jason couldn’t remember the last time he was actually wearing a suit. Not as nice as this, anyway, a grey three-piece that hugged his frame like a second skin would. It didn’t feel that alien – his gear was very fitting too so that part at least was familiar.

It’s the way Dick kept glancing at him that felt… new. Different from the way he was looking at Jason before but Jason couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Alright.” Dick hummed and Jason breathed out because that meant he was finally done dolling him up. “Now, be a good boy and don’t punch people’s teeth in before we get what we need, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Jason huffed. It’s not like he wasn’t good at undercover stuff. He didn’t like it and he definitely thought that Dick was way better at it, yeah, but it didn’t mean he would ever make such a rookie move. Even if he really wanted to, at times. “Not my first rodeo, remember? You really don’t have to mom me so much.”

“Mm.” Dick started adjusting his tie. “Then be a good boy for mommy and play nice.”

If anyone would ever ask about it, Jason would say he didn’t say anything back simply because he didn’t want to. Or that that was when Bruce walked in and told them it was time to move out.

When Jason will think back to it, he’ll remember the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times. The way his cheeks stung with the force of his blush. The way Dick ran his hands over the lapels of his jacket to smooth them out, slowly.

“Off you go then.” He murmured, looking at Jason from under his eyelashes and Jason still couldn’t know if Dick did that on purpose or not but he knew that it worked very well.

He lowered his chin in a sharp nod and Dick smiled, and then Jason was on the way to the club.

He couldn’t quite focus for the rest of the night. They got what they needed, no outside help from the Bat required, and Dick sent him a big happy smile when he came back to the Cave but Jason couldn’t stop thinking about what happened before.

He wondered if Dick was aware of what he was doing. He wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

-------

So. Maybe Jason had the slightest idea on how did it come to this-

“Mommy, please.” he breathed out, half a moan and half a whine.

Dick shushed him with a fond smile, peppering kisses across Jason’s jaw and cheeks. He was a solid familiar weight on Jason’s lap, pinning him firmly down to the mattress even when everything Jason wanted to do was to buck his hips, rub himself against Dick’s tanned stomach. Just enough to get some friction, just a little bit of pleasure Dick took away from him again because he was insistent to drag it out this time.

“Such a good boy, Jay.” Dick murmured against his skin, hand so close to where Jason needed it to be before sliding away again, higher and higher so it could settle on his stomach. “Just a little more, baby. Then you’ll get to fuck mommy the way you want to.”

“Please-” He gasped, fingers digging into Dick’s waist. How easy would it be to pull him closer, to slip between those cheeks… “Please, I need you-”

“Shh.” Dick gently cupped his jaw and lifted his head to press their lips together better. He kissed Jason slowly and filthy, slipping his tongue between his lips as soon as Jason parted them to gasp. He chased the sugary taste of cookies they had earlier, the one Jason barely finished making before Dick started pressing against him. “You have me, Jay. I’m right here.”

And it was the truth, wasn’t it? Jason had him, in a way no one else ever could. Dick Grayson, body and soul, all of that belonged to him now.

“Then do something about it already.” He demanded breathlessly as soon as Dick allowed him to speak again. “Prove it to me.”

Dick lowered his hand onto Jason’s thigh in a sharp slap that had Jason moaning again.

“That’s not very nice, baby. And you were doing so good.” Dick shook his head. “Only good boys get rewards, remember?”

“Sorry, mommy.” Jason whispered but he couldn’t stop his hips from moving anymore, trying to fuck into air.

“Mm, that’s better.” Calloused fingers slid down his stomach to finally, finally wrap around his cock. It was already so wet, both from saliva and precome that slid down the shaft from the head and Jason threw his head back with a loud whimper. How happy he was that those walls were sound-proof. “I forgive you, sweetheart. Now fuck me.”

And Jason didn’t need to be told twice.

[shubaka]

Okay okay so that KimChay body swap AU that came out of this post with @kimchaybrainrot and @subtextsays??

I’m gonna give it a go. I have some thoughts that aren’t going away and I need to make them go away somehow. I... really want to finish this because I feel like I’m going to have a lot of fun with this (despite how much I might complain about writing being hard), so I’m posting this for my own accountability.

Here’s the first 500-ish words I have so far, if you’re interested in taking a peek. :)

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

Chay jerks awake as his body erupts in pain.  He can’t see out of his left eye – there’s blood dripping down from a cut on his eyebrow – and his right is stinging from the smoke and dust lingering in the air. Chay can barely see, but he thinks there is a figure running towards him. 

A tall man reaches for Chay frantically, and it looks like he’s shouting, but Chay can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. The man grabs Chay by the arm, tucks him into his side, and drags Chay towards a car. Chay is shoved none too gently into the back of the car, and he keels over onto the plush leather seats and groans. He feels the car shift and rock as the man hops into the driver’s seat.

As soon as the car jolts into motion, the throbbing in Chay’s skull pulses with a vengeance, and Chay vomits on the car floor before slumping unconscious.

–

The next time Chay wakes up, he’s in a hospital room. 

There are two men in suits at the door. The taller of the two has his hair pulled back in a half bun and his left arm in a sling. He walks over to Chay and bows slightly. 

“How are you feeling? Oh, excuse me,” the man reaches past Chay to press a button next to the bed. “We were ordered to call for a nurse as soon as you regained consciousness,” he explains. 

Chay frowns, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

The man inhales sharply. 

Just as he opens his mouth to respond, the door to the room slides open and a nurse bustles in. She grabs a chart and inspects the monitors next to the bed as she asks, “How are you feeling?”

“He has some memory problems,” the man answers preemptively for Chay. “He doesn’t remember who I am.”

The nurse nods, “That’ll be the concussion, then.” She turns to Chay. “Are you still experiencing any headaches and nausea?” 

She puts Chay through a number of tests and deems him well enough to return home, with directions to rest and limit his physical and mental activities.

Chay nods and turns to the man who said to call him Big. “Thank you for your help, Phi. Is there a phone I can use? And which hospital is this? I need to call Hia so he can pick me up.” 

The look of alarm on Big’s face makes Chay pause. 

“I think it would be best if we take you home right away so you can get some rest.” Big gently takes Chay and ushers him to the washroom located in the corner of the room. A bundle of clothes is placed into Chay’s hands, and he’s nudged inside. “I’ll call your brother and inform him of your situation while you change.” 

Chay slowly backs into the washroom, flicks on the light, and closes the door quietly. 

That was weird.

He shuffles over to the sink and promptly drops all of the clothes to the floor. In the small mirror above the sink, Wik’s surprised face is staring at Chay.

[sarroora]

Hi I'm bored please have some more headcanons if you would 💃💃💃

I always give T.C. a really long tail because 1. It's funny 2. He's described as having a long tail in the wiki and 3. It's fun to make it so expressive

Like for example in the morning when he's tired his tail just drags behind him, mhm that's right Top Cat in his morning robes, with his black coffee, and that freakishly long tail dragging behind him

Also in a lot of covers for the comics he uses his tail as if it's prehensile so I'm saying it's partly prehensile

One last thing about T.C.'s tail is that because it's so long it tends to get caught in things and banged up frequently, elevators and escalators are T.C.'s tail's worst enemies

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Benny's short tail gives him slight balance issues and some mild back issues (cos that's typically what happens to bobtailed cattos)

Also I feel like Brain's tail can't move very much (cos nerve damage) and he's definitely had to have some of it amputated at some point due to infection or otherwise, so he also has some balance issues similar to Benny.

But they both compromise by holding their arms out a bit more than the others would so they still can run on fences relatively easily, they just look a bit goofier than the others

Brain absolutely LOVES rocks and bizarre geological features and he would definitely take geology classes if he had the money, however he occasionally scrapes up enough money to convince T.C. to take him on trips to national parks like Yellowstone, Craters of the Moon, Arches, Carlsbad Caverns, etc etc

Spook is the most radical (I think that's the term?) out of the gang and he's definitely the kind of guy who'd chain himself to a tree with the rest of his beatnik group to protest it being cut down/protest against deforestation

Spook absolutely meditates and he WOULD go out into the forest to do so, but that's so much effort and his little garden is right there in the alley. He also likes to light a little bit of incense when he meditates, to Fancy's dismay.

Fancy's got misophonia and he absolutely can't stand the sounds of people drinking something, breathing too loud, or coughing/sneezing too much. He doesn't want to get so upset at these sounds but he can't help it smh

Polydactyly Chooch moment, he usually stands in such a way where people can't immediately see his extra fingers and toes because past crushes of his have called them gross (rude)

Brain is the one who acts most consistently like a 'pet' to Dibble, the man just finds him around his apartment raiding his fridge and loafing on his spot on the couch and snoozing in his bed (although to be fair almost all of them do that, Dib's just more lenient with Brain specifically)

Brain is also almost entirely unaware of when he accidentally uses his claws on Dibble, most of the claw marks on Dib are from T.C. having a hissy fit or from Brain gripping onto his arm eating a treat from his hand, Dibble never complains about it though lest it makes Brain feel bad

The window in Dib's kitchen is almost always open because that's usually how the gang gets in. Dibble learned his lesson about keeping the window open after Spook smashed through it a few times and had to get it replaced, as well as Brain doinking his head on the window about the same amount of times and Dib being too concerned about him getting a concussion

I know this is a lot but EXPECT A LOT FROM ME OR I WILL GO INSANE/hj

Look at that lon list now THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT LOL

I like to think long tails in cat culture are actually a very cool and practical thing to have (think being 'tall' in humans) whereas very stubby tails can be seen as cute, but impractical. Definitely affects balance a little.

And of course, tails are huge mood indicators for cats. Dibble learned over the years to discern what each tail movement means.

YES. Spook is ABSOLUTELY 1000% the kinda guy who'll strap himself to a tree to protest it being cut. Spook takes part in a lot of movements. Spook has a bit of a reckless steak, though (par for the course). He's the most reckless of the gang.

OK BUT DIBBLE BEING PARTICULARLY GENTLE WITH BRAIN IS EVERYTHING (he in fact has a ton of respect for T.C. for unconditionally taking Brain as one of his own).

Dibble is also that person who'll sit and tolerate the kneading even if it's a little painful. One time Brain slept on him and didn't wanna get up and so he was made into a nice loaf of bread a couple hours later lol

[turquoiselover-99]

Flufftober Day One

Hi, hello! I'm not a first-time participant of flufftober (on a different account), but this is my first time using just my original characters. Mostly using different October events as a means of character study and slice of life! Enjoy!

@flufftober

Some days were better than others; Carlos could be home in time for dinner, provided he was caught up on casework, and other times, he was staying at the office for days at a time due to work.

… and sometimes, like today, Joshua was picking him up from the hospital because he got hurt on the job.

“—it’s not that bad, really, Bill, I can get home on my own—”

“Son, you got thrown through a window and landed on a pile of palettes. You’ve got a broken arm and ribs, and a concussion. You are in no condition to be by yourself, let alone drive. I’ve already called—ah, Josh, there you are.”

Carlos turned his attention to the doorway when Bill spotted the writer, looking worried.

“You got what?” the redhead demanded, having heard the end of the two agents’ conversation.

“I’m fine, really, you didn’t have to come get me—” Carlos began to protest.

“You heard right,” Bill sighed, giving his younger colleague a pointed look. “We caught the guy, but this one had to be reckless about it.”

“I don’t hear you complaining that we got our child murderer.”

Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I can handle it from here, Bill, thank you,” Joshua said, giving the older man a grateful look.

Bill nodded once and gathered his jacket off the back of a nearby chair. As he passed by the redhead in the doorway, he muttered, “Go easy on him; I’ve already chewed him out enough.”

Joshua nodded and once Bill was gone, turned his attention back to his partner, letting his worry show completely. He made it across the room in three quick strides and took Carlos’s face in his hands; he ran his gaze over the line of stitches over Carlos’s cheekbone, the sling his arm was in, and the obvious way he was sitting to try and relieve the pain from his broken ribs.

“Are you insane?” Joshua murmured, “I nearly had a heart attack when Billy called me.”

“I’m fine, carino, really,” Carlos murmured, reaching his good hand up to curl it loosely around Joshua’s wrist. “It was an accident.”

“Accident?” Joshua hissed, “How?!”

“… okay, maybe not so much of an accident. I was just really focused on getting the guy—he’s done a lot of bad things and needed to be caught.”

“Sound like my father, damn it,” the redhead muttered. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here. You look terrible.”

“Si, I would like to get out of here,” the agent agreed, and hopped off the bed. Almost immediately, all the color drained from his face, and he swayed on his feet.

Joshua was quick to grab him by his good arm, steadying him.

“Easy now,” Joshua murmured. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, Carlos looked like he was going to faint; Joshua was ready to call a nurse, until Carlos moved to sit back down.

“Okay,” Carlos groaned. “Moved too fast. Just… give me a second.”

“Need the doc to check you out?” Joshua asked, worriedly.

“No, no, not that. I just got to get my bearings about me.”

“… Why don’t I get you a wheelchair?” the writer suggested, gently, recognizing that a) now was not the time to press the issue, and b) he wanted to get Carlos out of the hospital as much as Carlos probably wanted out, “I parked down in the ER.”

“I…” Carlos began, but then seemed to think it over, “Si, that’d be nice.”

Joshua pressed a kiss to Carlos’s forehead.

“Stay here, babe. I’ll be back in a minute. Then we can go home.”

[sakamotokaori]

god i feel your pain this entire season ive been praying kaori will change her programs but she still hasnt and now the world is really gonna have to see her horrible woman program at the olympics 😭 the worst part is benoit has made good programs for her so why did he suddenly decide to sabotage her during an olympic season and if kaori retires after this with woman being her last competitive skate ill track down benoit and make him pay

the size of this mans ego is built almost directly off of the few good programs he has created for kaori. i’ve very rarely heard praise for the work hes done for other people, there is/was very outspoken dread for anything benoit does because he cannot construct a good program outside of being pretentious, creating what he thinks to be high art and it comes off like a child choreographed it with only verbal direction after watching one contemporary dance performance on youtube.

ive come to enjoy gladiator well enough, i think it plays into kaori's style a lot better and the step sequence is where she really pulls it off but i think that was bound to work for her at some point, its something she'd struggle to fail at, but the on the nose-ness of woman is just humiliating to watch as a fan. somehow there's a storyline being spoken aloud but nothing is actually portrayed it is soooo surface level? voiceovers are such an embarrassing way to force a concept and background into a program and the whole thing comes off as more of a pantomime than amelie ever was and he had her actually acting out a fucking broken doll (i think lol. i love amelie but it was again ON THE NOSE) the almost childish demand that she keeps the program because it will ruin the matching short and free is worse, i had to block him because he's a name searcher lol but fighting back on twitter with stans saying go and ask her if she likes it can you please grow up and rot in hell when you eventually do and second its a program about women empowerment and you aren't actually affording a woman that decision? Crazy! seems like you really care about us benoit 😍

i was honestly thinking at the beginning of the season IS this to nerf kaori because its inexplicable how he'd keep being so fucking stubborn over this when the backlash was so immediate after its first performance and has only grown, he stands to gain nothing except what kind of moral superiority or level of 'artistic integrity' he can fuel his next egofest with in his shiny head for sticking it out. i also cant understand the braindead insistence of keeping the flutz that can so easily bury her if they decide to call it at the olympics in her short program when the point difference between that and a 3Lo is so minimal and the latter has a infinitely higher chance of getting +4's / +5's. whatever

im not sure she'll retire just yet i know she's spoken about it, i think winning nationals and being the top lady in japan this season could have given her a little extra confidence to continue for a bit longer, but at any rate i hope she runs in the opposite direction any time benoit approaches her again!!!! for competitive or show programs ANYTHING let him go and give his embarrassing work to someone else. im begging on my knees. ill even help you pay anything babe anything look at me you never need choreo from him again you're stronger than this 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

and he's so lucky i spent the money i had tentatively saved for worlds 2022 because i would have happily gotten arrested in france for finding and smashing the shit out of his vehicle in the car park /j

[nymphbunnyys]

Could you please do the Sinclair brothers and any other slashers you want with an s/o who is a restless sleeper. Like they kick and punch in their sleep and end up just kicking everything off the bed or end up hitting the wall in their sleep by accident and wake up with mysterious bruises.

This is how I am when I sleep due to a type of restless leg syndrome, it's pretty harmless but it's chaotic lol. Please and thank you if you decide to do this!

coming right up bug.

I wake up with bruises all over me, but I don't think my issue is that.. I think I just abuse myself in my sleep. or some demon does. Lmao.

I'm also noticing people are living for the Sinclair brothers right now

Slashers with a restless sleeper

TW: again, too much fluff.. a tiny mention of Bo wanting to turn you into a wax figure.. he's an angry man what can I say.

Bo Sinclair

Out of the three Bo is the one to be the most agitated with how much you move, whether it be from a condition or just someone who moves too much Bo will tell you time and time again he's tired of you moving constantly and is about damn ready to restrain you.

Man is honestly debating turning you into a wax figure so you don't move.

"oh y/n please! Just lay still!"

He may sleep on the couch on nights where its really bad, as he'd wake up looking worse then you, bruises littering his body.

But most nights he'll find a way to sleep somewhat comfortably. Whether that be by holding you against him, tucking you tight into the blankets once you've passed out, or.. putting pillows between the two of you to save himself.

Honestly I feel like Bo would be the kind of person where.. he'll avoid contact and seem all big and bad but once he's in bed he'll want your fingers tangled in his hair, babying him like there is no tomorrow.. so I can definitely see him trying to just hold you most nights or find someway to keep you distracted from moving.

He's just a big man baby so don't take any of his nagging to heart he'll find a way to complain about anything.

(stop why is he so handsome-)

Vincent Sinclair

Both him and Lester honestly.. don't have a problem with it. I feel like with all the work Vincent does he tends to be a very heavy sleeper so you moving around doesn't affect him.

He's witnessed first hand though how restless you are when he's up late finishing a piece he was working on. He hadn't really paid any mind to the noises you were making until their was a loud smack. This time you'd slept downstairs in the boiler room with him so he wasn't so lonely. The bed in the boiler room was up against a wall but the sides were no where near one, your hand didn't smack against a wall you smacked it on the frame of the bed.. the metal frame.

Vincent quickly sat up, he was surprised you hadn't woken yourself. He gently took your hand and placed it back down on the bed, examining for any forms or growing bruises when he had come to discover the trail of bruises up your arm and legs.

Sill silly y/n, how do you manage to do all this.

Lester Sinclair

tsk tsk, you need to be more careful y/n.. you might give Lester a heart attack. Like Vincent there isn't much of a problem with it but he does still worry for your safety.

The small smacks to his face he can deal with but when you start to physically abuse yourself in your sleep, he won't have it.

If you have stuffed animals, he'll make sure to place them all around you. Making sure you have them in your hands, on top of you, and beside you and if not stuffed animals then anything soft, he can't risk you waking up with a damn concussion

if bruises do form he's sure to kiss every single one of them and he's mindful when doing so.. he knows just how bad bruises can hurt when even just slightly touched.

I'm sure there was one night you probably punched him right in the face, but unlike Bo he only laughed and rubbed your shaking arms.

"is'alright, can't be as bad as the time i-"

He'll ramble to for as long as you'd like, telling you stories about "much worse" situations he's been in just to make you feel better.

I love the way I write Lester.. I literally can't-

[bonniebird]

Jacob x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested by anon​

Masterpost

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Jacob didn’t look pleased as he hopped down out of Billy’s truck and slammed the driver's side door. You looked at him rather sheepishly and shivered a little as the rain ran under your coat, the bike helmet he’d given you dented and in one hand. 

“I told you not to waste your money on this! Specifically this one.” Jacob complained as he walked over to you. 

“I thought you were over exaggerating.” You complained as Jacob bent down to look at your scuffed leg. The denim of your jeans had been ripped open and he could see a cut through the hole.

“Does this look like I was over exaggerating? Will you please go and get in the car?” Jacob pointed to the truck and waited until he was sure you’d gotten in. He carefully picked up the bits of your bike and put them into the bed of the truck until he had all the pieces and got in the driver's seat. He reached over and turned the heat up. “Do you need to go to the hospital? Your helmet is pretty banged up.”

“I don’t think so?” You said. He gave you a dubious look but took you anyway. You were sent home with a bandage on your leg and a few to change each day as well as some painkillers. The doctor also told Jacob to keep an eye on you as you had a very mild concussion. Jacob sent you inside and found some old clothes of yours at the back of his wardrobe. They were on the smaller side but you were glad to have something dry. 

“How’re you feeling?” Billy asked as you left Jacob’s room. He handed you a warm drink and you spotted your coat hanging on a chair to dry next to the wood burner on one side of the living room.

“Better.” You said quietly as you appreciatively took the drink and sipped at it.

“Good. Jacob said what happened. He’s gone with Embry and Quill to get your money back. Should never have sold you that bike in the first place.” Billy sounded rather disapproving as he shook his head. The two of you chatted for a while and were interrupted by Jacob, Quill and Embry and shortly after Charlie Swan came in. Billy gestured for the boys to dry off and get a warm drink.

“Charlie, what can I help you with?” Billy asked as Charlie sat on a chair between the two of you.

“Well, I was called out about the commotion Jacob was causing. Turns out we’ve had a lot of vehicles that were stolen over the last year and according to my partner, a lot of the parts were found where you bought your bike. We’d need the information they gave you when you bought it and what happened with the bike.” Charlie explained. Billy sat with you and told Charlie everything he knew about the bike as he’d gone with you and Jacob to see it in the first place. You explained about going back on your own when your car finally stopped and the bike was much cheaper than getting it fixed. Then you explained about some of the parts coming off the bike causing you to swerve into the wrong side of the road and crash into a tree. Luckily it wasn’t too far from a payphone so you managed to call Jacob.

Once Charlie had everything he needed he nodded curtly, patted Billy affectionately on the shoulder and promised to be down to see him again soon, then left. 

You thanked Billy for the drink and went to find Jacob. He was out in his garage. He looked rather frustrated.

“Thanks for going over for me.” You mumbled. He was obviously in a bad mood by the way he slammed down the tool he was holding and rummaged roughly through a toolbox.

“Didn’t do any good. They wouldn’t give it back. Charlie said you probably won't be able to get the money back.” He grumbled and frowned down at the toolbox.

“That’s ok. It didn’t cost much and I bet you’d be able to put it together safely.” You smiled as Jacob looked over at you and shook his head.

“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren't going to work this time!” Jacob insisted as you gave him your best pleading look. “Even if I wanted to. This thing is all cracked and broken. No one could fix this. But I could have a look at your car and see if I could fix anything. Maybe we can get the garage to lower the price of fixing it. If you think I’m letting you drive anything with less than four wheels and a roof you’re nuts.” Jacob smiled when you laughed and shook your head.

“I won't buy any more sketchy bikes from sketchy bike… sellers.” You promised and he nodded.

“I coil probably give you a ride to work a couple of days a week until you get some wheels.” Jacob muttered as you leaned against him. Your helmet sat on one side of the garage and you winced when you saw how badly dented it was. No wonder he’d been worried. You thought to yourself as he hugged you.

Jacob tags:

@linkpk88 @babypink224221 @lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @lovesanimals0000 @sairamccall11

@theletterhart @bluebear142077 @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @multi-fandom5 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @kaylantus @ssa--holmes

@supernatural-wolfie @devilslilbabysblog @why-am-I-here-01 @babygrinchsblog @alwaysadreamingoptimist @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @gillybear17 @lchufflepuffcorn @fatherfigured @kaitieskidmore1 @123cxcv @slxthxrxn-sxmp @jamie-c-bower-simp

[buttterknifeee]

Now that you put the idea in my head, can I please request a blurb that takes place later on in the show (when Robin is now full on crushing on Aquagirl) where he’s trying to flirt with her but it just goes over her head and it drives everyone else crazy.

Examples: Like he compliments her, takes a harsh blow for her, gives her her fav candy after a hard fight but she only sees all of that as being friendly and nice then later when Robin is out of the room she sighs all love struck and is all like “I wish I could ask out Robin” and everyone just face palms. Im sorry if it’s too much, but I just really love that idea. Thanks if you do do it but also thanks for just hearing this out. Have a great day!

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA BDSKGH

anyways here you go!

Masterlist

word count: 931

pairings: Robin! Dick Grayson x Aquagirl! Reader

Valentines day. The worst day of the year, especially for a girl like you. You've found yourself alone every year, and this year is probably no exception. You can't even get the guts to ask out the guy you like, and he's on your team! This is on me, you thought glumly.

You sat in Starfire's room with her and Raven as you watched her get ready for the day.

"So what are you doing today, Starfire?" You asked, watching her brush her hair in front of her vanity. You were laying on her bed as Raven sat cross legged next to you.

"Oh! Friend Raven and I will be seeing a movie at the place of theaters!" She said cheerfully.

“Have you asked Robin out yet?” Raven asked with a smirk. Your face burned red.

“I- Robin? What makes you think I like Robin???” you stutter, sitting up straight.

Starfire floated over to you. “Oh! The two of you would be perfect for each other! You are always together and-” You cut her off, extremely flustered.

“We’re not always together, and besides, he obviously doesn’t see me that way, so there’s no point in asking him out anyways.” You stared at your feet in embarrassment. Starfire and Raven looked at each other.

They were about to reply when the alarm went off, flashing red and blaring a horn. The three of you race out of Starfire's room and into the main room, where you find the three boys already there.

“The HIVE five are roaming Jump City,” Robin announces, staring at the screen in the center of the room.

“Man, didn't we just like to fight them?” Beast Boy whines.

“Complainings for later, let's go!” Robin orders, and you all hurry to the tower’s exit. Robin puts his hand on your shoulder before you leave.

“Um, I just wanted to say that you looked nice today,” he stuttered. You thought it was nice of him to say something like that to you.

“Aw, thanks man! I appreciate it!” you smile, patting the hand he had on your shoulder. You ran to join the others.

.

You found the HIVE five at the Jump City bank, loading sacks of cash into a truck. Gizmo noticed you first and yelled at his team. They all turned to you and took a fighting stance.

“Titans go!” Robin yelled, charging forward. You followed his lead and clashed with the five villains. This time you square up against Jinx, who stares at you nonchalantly. She smiles and points her finger at you. Pink energy shoots out towards you but you block it with a shield of water.

“Don’t you guys take the holidays or something?” you huff, dropping your shield. The pink haired girl smirks.

“The HIVE stops for nothing, not even your stupid little holidays!” She lunges towards you to throw a punch. You dodge, and kick at her stomach. She groans, but lunges at you again, You dodge again, but this time she grabbed your arm and threw you over her shoulder, causing you to hit the ground hard. You quickly got up, but she shot a wave of magic at you, sending you into a wall. The wall cracked from the impact, and you sat slumped on the floor, your head ringing. You tried to focus your vision as Jinx stood across from you, ready to bring the final blow. Pink energy crackled out of her hands and you closed your eyes expecting pained and-

You hear a yell in front of you as you reopen your eyes. Robin stood staggered in front of you, taking the impact of Jinx’s magic.

“Robin!” you yell, rushing towards him as he collapses towards you. You held him in your arms as you glared at Jinx, burning with rage.

“Awww looks like your boyfriend’s not doing too well,” she laughed, a hand on her hip.

“Boyfriend? We’re not dating.” you said.

“You’re not?”

“Yeah I mean he’s cute and everything but he obviously doesn’t see me like that so- You thought we were dating???”

“You guys seemed like a couple so i kinda just assumed-” She was suddenly cut off by being hit with a blast. More specifically Cyborg’s sonic arm cannon.

“Boo-yah!” he cheered, giving you a thumbs up. You gave a pained smile as you continued to hold the boy wonder in your lap.

.

You sat by Robin’s side in the infirmary, watching his sleeping body. Jinx’s blow must have given him a concussion, because he was out like a light the whole way back to the tower. You quietly jumped as he finally stirred awake.

“... Aquagirl?” he croaked, slightly lifting up his head.

“The one and only,” you smile. “You alright? You got hit pretty badly.”

“Yeah… I’m ok. Listen there’s something I need to tell you I-” He started but you stopped him.

“Robin, whatever it is you want to tell me you can tell me later ok? You need some rest,” you say. “And, thank you, for what you did back there. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You leave the infirmary and meet with all the Titans in the living room. They all stared at you as you entered the room.

“What?” you ask, taking a seat next to Cyborg.

“Well?? DId you ask Robin out?” Beast Boy asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“How did you- never mind.” you sighed. “I don’t know guys, I really do like him but I just don’t think he feels the same.”

The four titans all groaned unanimously.

“What???”

[elementalladymallorie]

A Portal to Connect Me to You

This movie has taken a hold on me and I really wanted to write something about Mikey's portals.

So here's a drabble focusing on that with a healthy dose of brotherly affection.

AO3 link

Word Count: 7K

No warnings this time, unless I've missed something. In which case please let me know nad I'll fix that.

Mikey should really stop thinking about the mystic powers thing now. Everyone was out of danger and they were home and safe now. He didn’t need to use a portal any longer, because he did it when it mattered most. 

He just couldn’t keep his mind off of it, because he could still feel the energy tingling up his arms at times, because now he knew he could do it, and because it had worked and it had helped. He just needed to figure out how to make it all work again.

Mikey had been thinking about it for days now, but had been getting nowhere with it. He didn’t want to focus too much on what had been happening when he managed to get it working, so he tried to think about other parts of it.

He had felt… both energized and like he was fading away all at once. Like he had tapped into something big, and like it taking parts of him away bit by bit in return. At least until his brothers were there, standing beside him and giving him strength, and then the fading feeling was gone. 

The fading away bit was not something Mikey ever wanted to go through again, but there had to be a way to make the portal without that, right?

Steeling his resolve, Mikey decided the best place to start was to ask the only other person in his family that knew how to make one. 

Leo would be happy with the company, and Mikey wanted to check up on his brother, anyway.

Leo was still on bedrest, would be for a while really given everything that happened. Don hadn’t let any of the turtles leave the lair for at least a few days to make sure that there were no aftereffects of the Krang gunk on their systems. He had barely let April, their dad, or Casey leave until he’d checked them over about a dozen times each.  

Leo, though, had been strictly told that he was not allowed to do any strenuous activities, tricks, or anything that could cause strain or stress on his body. The slider had gotten a concussion, a bruised chest and their equivalent of ribs, a lot of bruising all over in general, and a lot of other things that had flown over Mike’s head when Donnie explained it all. It hadn’t painted a pretty picture, and Leo had looked like a motley mix of colors that Mikey never wanted to see combined in such a way again.

So Leo was stuck to either his bed, or the couch after some very careful moving by their biggest brother when he started getting restless. Luckily for Leo, though, the Hamatos were a tight bunch, and he wasn’t ever left alone for long. Someone always left behind at the lair while the others went out to get supplies.

Mikey was sitting on the floor beside Leo’s bed, shell pressed to the mattress as he worked on a sketch in his book. Listening to the pages of Leo’s comic turn and looking whenever Leo held the pages out to him, offering his own comments every time. Leo was so tired recently, for all that he complained about not being able to do anything. Pop’s had said it meant his body was telling him to rest. So all of them were extra quiet wherever one of them discovered Leo was sleeping. 

He’d earned the rest, and they were going to make sure it was as peaceful as possible until he could be up and about with them all again. 

Mikey paused in his sketching, taking a moment to stretch his arms and roll his neck so he didn’t accidentally make it stiff. He paused when he saw a glint of metal staring now at the twin Katana propped up on one of the walls. They’d looked long and hard for Leo’s second Katana, and he’d been so grateful when both were back in his hands. None of them wanted to lose their weapons again.

Mikey frowned, taking a moment to hype himself up before leaning back further against the mattress to look at his brother more clearly "Hey, Leo?”

Leo hummed, showing he was listening even as he continued to read his comic and looking like it wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep again. Mikey almost backed down at that. He didn’t want to risk keeping his bro up, but squaring his shoulders, he pressed on “How does… How does it feel when you make a portal?”

Leonardo twitched at that, closing his comic and turning his head to look more clearly at his little brother. His eyes were still tired, but the color had come back into his face and the bruises were fading even if they were still an ugly dark color. He looked confused, though, searching Mikey’s face as he tried to figure out what he was really asking. 

“It’s kind of…” He paused, trying to find the right word for it "It’s kind of tingly, and like there’s electricity all over me. I think that’s just how my powers are, though, cause it felt like that when we got them back before I made a portal. Both times.”

That makes sense, Mikey thinks, and hey maybe the tingly feeling was just a portal side effect! But it didn’t quite sound the same though. Mikey’s powers didn’t feel like electricity. They felt warm and like the way a healthy candle flame looked. There was a kind of weight behind them too, something not overbearing but familiar, the way it felt when he held his nunchaku or the kusari fundo and the chain hung while not in use.

He worries at his bottom lip with his teeth before asking, “Does it ever feel like anything else?”

“Anything else? Like what?” Leo looks more alert now, sitting up a bit straighter in the makeshift pillow backrest he had. Mikey feels bad about that, but there was no backing away from it now. If he tried to pretend it was nothing, Leo would either worry or he’d tell their big brothers and then one of them would corner him about it. 

“Like I don’t know, a wooooshing feeling? Or is it light or heavy? Or does it feel like you could get lost in it?” That may have been the wrong thing to ask, because Leo’s eyes are narrowing and big brother mode has been activated.

“Is that how it felt when you made one?” Mikey is slowly retreating into his shell, knees drawn up to his chest as his head starts to sink into it. His sketchbook has been set aside just like Leo’s comic, and Leo’s focused completely on him now.

“Maybe, just a little?” It’s not a confident answer, and he’s not looking at Leo now, staring at the floor between his feet. “But it’s the first one I ever made, and I thought maybe that was normal since I didn’t have any practice and-”

“It’s not normal.” Leo cuts off his rambling, and when Mikey looks up in surprise, the slider’s face is set in determination. He’s studying Mikey now, filing away the new information the same way Donnie does with new discoveries. They’re more alike in that way than either of them will ever admit, both too smart or clever for their own good at times. “I never felt like I was gonna get lost in it, even when I messed up where they opened.”

Leon was staring at Mikey’s arms now, thinking about how he’d rub at them like they were bothering him at random points during the days following the attack. A phantom pain of the bits of himself that were chipping away as he tore open the portal. Mikey wasn’t totally sure how Raph and Donnie didn’t have the same feelings, since the lines had extended to them, too. “Did it feel like anything else for you?”

It’s a pointed question, and Mikey thinks it’s fair since Leo hadn’t been there when he’d opened the portal and didn’t get to see the whole process. They hadn’t fully mentioned it to him yet either, too worried about making sure he would be okay and getting home and all back together in one place. 

“Not really?” Mikey winced slightly when Leo gave him a look that said he didn’t believe that for a second “It just kind of felt like I was fading a little? But it also felt like there was a lot of energy for me to tap into, too.”

Leo’s face goes through a lot of emotions at that; confusion, fear, concern, and something that just makes him look so sad before determination sets strong there again. He reaches a hand out, and it rests heavier than it ever should on Mikey’s shoulder "Mikey, no more portals, and I mean that.”

“But-!” Mikey wilts when his brother’s face only hardens further. Leo is serious about this one and there’s no going against that. Not now, at least. He sighs dejectedly, knees brought up even closer as his arms wrap around them "Okay.”

Leo stares at Mikey for another moment, searching for something before he relaxes and looks tired again, but there’s something heavier behind it. “Good.”

They stay like that for a moment, an uncomfortable silence settling like a blanket of rain clouds. Mikey’s trying to find the right words to say, how to apologize for making Leo worry before Leo tugs at the tails of his headband. 

When Mikey looks back at him, Leo gives him a wink and then his mouth twitches up a bit, a cocky smile shining through "Besides, I can’t let you go and over shadow me in the portal department now can I? That’s kind of my trademarked thing Michael. You can’t just steal it from me.”

He’s teasing, and that’s a good sign. Mikey snorts, rolling his eyes before relaxing from the ball he’d curled into "Trademarked? Since when did you trademark Portaljitsu?”

Leo waves a hand flippantly in the air before pointing a finger directly into Mikey’s face “Since like forever ago? I mean, it’s been my thing since we fought Draxum the first time. I totally put my own Leon patent on it that day.”

Mikey can’t help it. He starts laughing, kicking out his feet a little as he leans solidly into Leo’s mattress. Leo’s beaming now, pride shining bright in his eyes as he laughs a little too, before he winces and hand rests on his side.

That sobers Mikey up quickly, and he’s about to ask if Leo’s okay or if he needs anything when a hand settles on his head. The pride is still on Leo’s face and he looks really happy about something now, but Mikey can’t think of why given the conversation. “We’ll keep it in mind though, okay? Out of sight, but not out of mind.”

Mikey thinks that over, nodding once and accepting the compromise for what it is. Leo pats his head once before leaning back and relaxing into his bed again, staring up at the ceiling of his subway car. 

Mikey thinks that’s going to be the end of it, picking up his sketchbook and ready to start again when Leo surprises him "Got to admit though, I might like the look of your portal a bit more.”

Mikey makes a questioning noise at that, tilting his head in confusion at Leo. Leo glances back at him, and his eyes are soft in an achingly familiar way. It’s a look they’ve all had at one point or another and that has been directed at each family member multiple times, a look that’s nothing but love for one another that comes out in rare and special times.

“Yeah, it was really bright. Looked kind of like the sun shining on through some pretty dark clouds.” 

Mikey felt something settle in his chest, a weight that was heavy and comforting all at once. It doesn’t hurt, and he feels stronger from it somehow. He blinks back the tears, trying to form before he’s laughing again, calling Leo a sap and wrapping his brother up in the gentlest hug he can. Two surprisingly strong arms wrap around him in return, and hold him tight, like Leo is almost afraid to let him go ever again. 

Mikey feels guilty at that, so he can let the portals go for now, content to know now that he did what was needed at the time and that he’ll always have his brothers there to help him and keep his feet on the ground. 

It’s been a few weeks now since his conversation with Leonardo, and the portal thing is back at the front of Mikey’s mind again.

He’s not trying to pull that power forward again. He promised Leo he wouldn’t do the portal thing alone after all. That doesn’t mean he can’t think about it though, and try to figure out what he could try that was different to make it easier in case he ever gets to practice it again. 

Maybe he’s thinking about it wrong, though, too focused on how it felt and not how it worked. He might have needed another angel to look at his powers. Maybe he should ask Donnie about it! Donnie’s wicked smart about figuring out how things work and he can probably find an easier way to do it in no time!

It’s with that thought that Mikey makes his way down to Donnie’s lab, where he’s been holed up for too long, anyway.

On second thought, maybe Mikey will stop by the kitchen first to make a cup of coffee for his brother first and then head to the lab. 

It was a good thing Mikey had grabbed the coffee before coming down to Donnie’s personal sanctuary. He’d set the cup down and taken his customary seat on one of the tables and waited. It had taken a solid five minutes before Donnie even noticed the mug; taking a sip and setting the mug back down before realizing that it hadn’t been there before. He then stared at the mug for another minute before finally looking at Mikey.

Mikey just beamed at him, giving a little wave as he rocked in his spot "Hi D!”

“Hello, Michelangelo. To what do I owe this visit to my humble abode?” It’s not often that Donnie’s brothers visit his lab for more than grabbing him for food, missions, training, or some activity they’d planned. If it had been something serious, Mikey wouldn’t have just been sitting there waiting for him, though, and that was a minor comfort on his frayed nerves.

“Well, I kind of had a question, but if you’re really busy, I can wait.” Mikey was nervous, hoping he could keep things vague enough that Donnie wouldn’t catch on that he was talking about portals again. He’s pretty sure Leo had mentioned it to the others, because he’d gotten some odd looks and a bit more hovering around him for a day or two after that conversation.

“It depends on the question, but I suppose I can spare a few moments.” Donnie turned in his chair to face Mikey now, one drawn on brow raised high as he took another drink of coffee.

“Well, I was wondering about… time travel!” Mikey scrambled a little, trying really hard to not say portals, but trying to think of something that was close enough that Don’s answer would help him out. Casey had said that the portal was what sent him back in time, so time travel was a safe bet.

“Time travel?” Donnie sounds skeptical, and that brow is even higher now as he stares at his brother. And now D’s getting suspicious and Mikey needs to get this back together quickly.

“Yeah! I was re-watching some Jupiter Jim, and I saw the part where they time traveled to get that really old alien battery before it was broken so they could power that computer. And it kind of made me think about you know, so I just kinda got curious and figured my genius of a big brother could explain it more?”

Mikey is laying it on a little thick, trying to look as innocent as a lamb and not like he’s nervous and ready to bolt at any second. Didn’t hurt to give his bro some praise too. It’s another way that Don and Leo are alike, a way both of them are like dad too, all three preening at it and it helps them more likely to let their guard down just a bit. That’s not the only reason that Mikey does it, of course! His family always deserves praise, and it’s not like it’s a lie to call Don a genius. 

“Ah yes, I can see how the similarities from the movie would lead you to think about…” Donnie struggles for the word, brows drawn down as he thinks of their recent escapade, which has guilt growing in Mikey’s belly. “Our recent trials, but I can assure you, Angelo, those are two very different things.”

Now that just confuses Mikey further, and he feels his own face scrunch up and leaning forward, he asks, “Wait, they are?”

“Of course! In the movie, the events were predetermined given that no paradoxes had happened, and that instructions had been left for Jupiter Jim and his team to know what to do in the first place. That and the science behind how it worked was a bit shaky in premise. Made for an impressive scene, though." Donnie’s face is lightning up, more than happy to ramble about two of his favorite things. 

Mikey leans forward, grinning wildly as he gets caught up in his brother’s excitement. He’s nodding along and just enjoying watching Donnie be energetic. 

“What happened with us, however, is both far more realistic and equally unbelievable.” Donnie’s picking up the pace a bit "The fact Casey was able to be sent to the past in the first place should be physically impossible, but the fact we actually succeed breaks far more rules than that! It doesn’t seem that there are any issues with our blatant disregard for the space-time continuum is surprising as well. That could change, though, and we’ll need to be prepared for that. I could probably work out some kind of algorithm to find those anomalies. If they start to appear, of course.” 

Donnie’s now going into full scientist mode now, muttering to himself about his algorithm and half turning back to his computer to start working on it.

“But how does it actually work?” Normally, Mikey would’ve left when his brother started getting like this. They couldn’t usually pull him out of the inventing zone when it takes hold. Mike lucked out, though, because he caught Donnie quick enough that the other turtle paused, turning back to focus on Mikey once more. 

“How does time travel actually work?” Don’s tone is measured, but he also looks confused. None of them have ever tried to understand these things like Donnie did, it never resonated for them and went above their heads every time. Mikey nods regardless, fighting the urge to shrink into his shell when Donnie’s eyes narrow slightly.

“There are many theories of how time travel could work, but not any that have yet been proven. There is, of course, general relativity, which theoretically proves that time travel could be possible, but due to quantum gravity we can’t prove it yet. Wormholes are also a hypothetical way that time travel could be possible and are in line with Einstein's field equations of general relativity.” 

Aaand Mikey’s lost now. He’s pretty sure he can’t learn all of these things to figure out how to make a portal. 

Donnie is staring at him now, and Mikey realizes too late he’s been a bit too quiet because Don’s standing up and moving to the table Mikey’s been sitting on. When Donnie’s standing in front of the box turtle, he places both hands on his youngest brother’s shoulders and squeezes.

“Angelo, the time travel and portaling thing you can do is a very unknown variant right now. It’s way too risky for any of us to be trying or using when we can’t run tests or have a solid foundation to build upon without someone getting hurt.” Donnie’s tone is leaving no room for an argument about this, but Mikey still has to try, because what if they do need it again?

“But what if we do a test on it? I’m sure we can figure it all out and then it’ll be no problem!” Donnie’s brow furrows down at that, but he doesn’t look angry. No, Mike would call that look concerned, and the guilt is back in full force. 

“Do you know what entropy is, Mikey?” When Mikey shakes his head no, Donnie leans down a bit to be more level with him and continues, “It’s a thermodynamic mechanic that measures thermal energy in the universe. It also may be a reason that time travel currently isn’t possible, because entropy can’t be decreased and non-increasing at the same time.”

That’s confusing, and Mikey doesn’t really understand. Donnie knows this, though, and he’s always patient when explaining the things that really matter. “It means that without the energy output being regulated in the correct way, time travel or interdimensional travel shouldn’t be possible.”

Donnie’s voice is serious and sober when he finishes "There’s a very good chance that opening your portals the way you do could very well be using your energy to help make that possible. That is likely why you started to fade when you opened that one to the prison dimension.” 

Oh, that’s not a great thought, and maybe there’s just the tiniest bit of panic going through Mikey’s head now. “What about Leo’s portals?”

“Leo’s aren’t cutting across time or doing interdimensional travel. They’re still impressive, but they’re not breaking as many laws of physics as yours are.” Don must have thought about that a lot given how easily he rattled that off. “He’s not at any risk from his portals. I tested it a while back when I tested all of your weapons. You, however, were not using a weapon, and that was all you. And I… I don’t know how that kind of mystic power works.”

Donnie never admits when he doesn’t know something or not verbally, at least. When he’s unsure, he deflects or finds another way to keep his momentum and not let it show how rattled he was. Donnie outright admitting he didn’t know how something was rare and concerning, and it took the wind out of Mikey’s sails as he stared up at his brother.

“We got extremely lucky that me and Raphael were able to help you and that it was enough to satisfy whatever energy requirement your portals required. That’s why you shouldn’t do it by yourself.” 

Mikey feels a ball of tension in his chest unwind, and he nods. He went to Donnie to learn how this power worked, and in a way he did, even if he didn’t understand it. Don sighs, then gives two quick pats to Mikey’s shoulders as he moves back to his chair. 

Mikey’s a little crestfallen now, but he feels better if only marginally about talking it out with Donnie. Just as he was getting ready to leave, Donnie piped in again, “I have been looking into it a little though, nothing too excessive and only bare bones right now.” Donnie spares another glance and Mikey “I’ve been curious about it too. You keep pulling out these crazy acts, Mikey, and I want to know about how you can keep that up.” 

Mikey stares, that warm and good-heavy feeling appearing once again. It settles deeper and more solidly in place, feeling more like a connection than just a weight now. He’s nodding fast enough that maybe he should be worried about whiplash before giving a double thumbs up. “If anyone’s gonna figure it all out D, it’ll be you! Aaand if you ever want some help with the mystic tests. This awesome, mystic warrior is always at your service!”

Donnie snorts, rolling his eyes fondly before waving to his brother and turning back to his projects. Mikey leaves and he feels a bit lighter, even though the guilt is still lingering and he’ll make it up to his brothers soon. For now, he’s putting the portals all the way on the back burner until they can figure something out. 

Raph came to Mikey about the portals instead of the other way around. Donnie and Leo both mentioned something about it, and it was easy to tell because Raph had divided his mother henning between the recently off of bedrest Leo and himself.

 It miffed Mikey a lot, not that he couldn’t totally understand it. He was worried that Raph was going to baby him. That would not help with the whole ‘wanting to do the mystic portal’ thing at all, so Mikey was trying to keep out of Raph’s line of sight as much as he could without actually avoiding his brother.

It was a fine tightrope of a line, but Mikey was acrobatic enough to work around that and to put himself back on that rope if he slipped. He had razzmatazz to spare for that!

He managed for a few days before Raph finally cornered him. Literally and likely unintentionally, blocking the door to Mikey’s subway car as he shifts awkwardly, trying to think about how to start the conversation. 

Mikey contemplates for a moment how worth it would be to jump out one of his windows, because Raph looks like a weird combination of brotherly concern and like he’s hyping himself up. 

Mikey hadn’t been thinking about the portals, not in much more than a fleeting thought, and he certainly hadn’t been practicing it. So there’s no reason for Raph to be pushing it too.

But Raph is here, and he’s stalling, and Mikey’s pretty sure that if one of them doesn’t say something soon, Raph’s gonna start having fear stink. Which, for all that Mikey loves his brother, he does not want that in his room.

Mikey sits up in his hammock, placing the game he’d been playing off to the side, and ready to talk about anything when Raph beats him to the punch. 

“Heeeey big man.” And there’s the voice. Raph only uses that voice when he knows he’s gonna give bad news or doesn’t want to upset one of his brothers. “Doing good?”

Mikey cuts a quick look out of the window of his car, wondering if one of his other siblings will be there to either help him or watching the show. None are so he looks back at Raph, and nods “Uh, yeah. I’m good. Are… Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m great!” Raph’s voice cracked at that, and coughs into his fist to clear his throat before getting serious again. “So, Don and Leo mentioned being a little worried about you recently. And I just wanted to check up on you and make sure things were… good?”

Mikey’s scowling now and he groans, flopping down into his hammock and throwing an arm over his eyes. His brothers were tattle tales. “Things are fine, Raph! I promise you, I haven’t even thought about the portal power at all for days now!” That was a bit of a fib, but he hadn’t thought about them seriously in days. Honest!

“Whoever said anything about portals?” Raph honestly sounds confused about that, and Mikey removes his arm, looking back at his brother, and he is now just as equally confused. 

Raph confusion doesn’t linger long though, morphing into overprotective big brother concern as his hands rest on his hips. “Mikey, we all agreed you wouldn’t practice with those things! Not until Don had a chance to look you over, at least.” 

“I know! And I haven’t been practicing with them! I was just asking about them, but I haven’t tried to do it again.” Mikey shifts deeper into his hammock as he tries to ignore the uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest. 

Raph sighs, rubbing tiredly at his forehead as he steps further into Mikey’s room. It makes the anger fade as quick as a candle in the rain, and the guilt rear its ugly head again. But Mikey’s holding fast on being stubborn for this, pointedly not looking at Raphael as he hovers at the edge of his hammock. 

“I believe you. You wouldn’t break your promise.” That wasn’t what Mikey was expecting to hear, and he glances at the snapper from the corner of his eye. “Plus pretty sure Donnie would’ve led with that if you were. Probably couldn’t hide it forever either.”

Raph looks like if Mikey had a normal bed, he’d have taken a seat now for this conversation. As it was, he leans against the support beam they’d put in for Mike to be able to have a hammock again in his room. Raph looks kind of tired, the same kind of tired Leo’s occasionally getting now, and a small part of Mikey is relieved that at least the two of them understand that feeling now. Because now they have someone that gets it and can help, but it also hurts his heart to know his family is hurting in a way he hasn’t figured out how to help yet. 

“What did they say then?” Mikey’s lost now. If they hadn’t mentioned him asking about portals, then what could they have said to make Raph worried?

“They were worried about you doing something reckless, I think.” Raph’s got a brow quirked up, looking like he’s fighting back a smile “Leo said you were restless, while he was the one whining about being on bedrest. Donnie kinda said you were asking about weird things in his own way.” 

Okay, so they hadn’t completely outed him, but Mikey was still a little miffed about it cause now both he and Raph were uncomfortable. 

“I think they’re right, too. You’ve been acting a little off, Mike. So, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Raph’s sincerity with that statement has tears welling up in Mikey’s eyes, and he turns his shell facing his brother now. Because he’s supposed to be upset, sure, but not that upset and he doesn’t want to worry Raph anymore because his big brother is already still dealing with a lot.

“I’m fine Raph. I wasn’t practicing with the portals, and I was just curious about it when I was asking. I haven’t been thinking about them either.” He glances back at Raphael, and whatever lingering piece of annoyance had still been there faded away into nothing. That tired look is even more deep set, and Mikey feels awful at that, because he’s not supposed to make his brother feel bad. Especially not after what happened, and they were all finally getting back to their equilibrium.  

“I know you haven’t. And I’m really proud of you for that!” Raph’s quick to amend, hands raised in a placating gesture. “But you just look like you’ve been off your mojo, and we all went through a lot. I just wanted to make sure you knew that; you don’t need to worry about being able to fix everything.”

That’s not what Mikey was expecting, and he sits up to stare at Raph incredulously, “What the what?”

Determination joins the brotherly worry, and Raph’s got a look on his face that’s similar to the one from when he and Leo were arguing before everything went down. Mikey’s not really sure how to feel about having that look directed at him. He knows he doesn’t really like it, but beyond that, he isn’t sure what he’s feeling.

“I know getting a new power is a great thing, and you want to use it to help out, but you’re already doing that, Mikey. You don’t need to have this thing down right away or do more than what you already are.” Raph’s face is honest and open with what he’s feeling because he gets that. He knows what it’s like to want to do everything in your power to protect the people you care about, because those thoughts are at the forefront of his mind every mission they go out on.

Mikey can’t help but wonder now how often Raph practiced his mystic powers when they weren’t paying attention. 

“But I’m never going to get it down if I don’t practice! And what if we need them again? This is the second time we needed a different kind of portal to help! If I can do it, maybe we can avoid a lot of problems!”

Mikey’s leaning forward in his hammock, hands holding onto his ankles as he blinked back tears. Mikey had been focusing more on the feelings related to being able to do the portals, but now faced with his big brother’s concern, the other ones were all bubbling to the surface again. All the pent up frustration about the situation, the fear of almost losing his brothers and home, the desperation when trying to open that portal, and the heartbreak of having almost lost Leo. Because what if he hadn’t been able to do it? What if he did, but it wasn’t enough?

What if he needed to do it again but he couldn’t because he didn’t learn how to use these powers?

Raph moved, and Mikey’s being hugged tight as he started to sniffle. 

“We can’t avoid every problem that comes our way. And if we need your portals but can’t use ‘em for some reason? We’ll find another way, just like we always do.” Raph pulled back, just enough for Mikey to see his face and offering a wink "We’re all pretty good at making up things on the fly.” 

Mikey nods, because they have come up with some pretty wicked plans without actually planning them, wiping away his tears and looking up at his brother with a wobbly smile. 

“None of us are alone, so you shouldn’t think that if you don’t get this down, things’ll go wrong, okay?” Raph’s brow is furrowed again, and he’s searching for something, but Mikey isn’t sure what. 

“Okay.” Mikey agrees, and he watches as Raph practically deflates as the tension and stress leaves him. Mikey smiles before glaring lightly at his brother, which causes his brother to blink at the sudden change "But you gotta promise that you’ll trust us the same way too! You don’t need to worry about us that much, Raphie. We’re just as good at looking out for each other as you are.”

Raph snorts, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation as he straightens up, hands going to rest at his hips. “Maybe you are, but you guys are still the dumdums that ate the poisoned cream puffs.”

Mikey at least has the decency to look a little sheepish and chastised at that. He sticks his tongue out at Raph when his big brother rubs a little roughly at his head, though. The feeling in the room shifts into something lighter, and both of them laugh now that they’ve aired out at least some of their problems.

Raph shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the support beam again “Besides, if you keep pulling out all these miracles, Mike, you’re gonna take up all the hero moments before the rest of us get a chance. You gotta let your big bros get some in, too.” Raph lifts up a hand and starts counting on his fingers “I mean you threw that container ship at Shredder, you threw a few semis at him too, you threw that building…” 

Mikey cuts him off, laughing and launching himself at his brother, safe in the knowledge that Raph will catch him. Raph breaks down laughing too, one arm keeping his brother in the air as the other gives a noogie. That warm feeling is back, and the weight in his chest increases like another link attaching to what was already there. It settles comfortably, and the guilt recedes and fades. 

Maybe he’ll never need this power again, or maybe he will. Either way, his brothers have his back and they’ll make it through everything, no matter what. 

Donnie had finally cleared everyone from any health concerns. Well, the physical health concerns at least. There were still other problems that they were all collectively working on together, but there was nothing preventing them from going topside again and making sure nobody was causing any problems. 

They were all a little skeptical of the new government agency that had shown up to help clean up the Krang mess, though. Neither April nor Donnie had found much on them when looking into them, and Casey had no knowledge of them either. It was just one more thing they had to keep a lookout for when topside now. 

Honestly, Mikey was just glad they were allowed to get out and get some fresh air again. They were all starting to get stir crazy, being stuck down in the sewers while their world came back to life. 

Mikey was headed to the kitchen, ready to take inventory and see what they needed before the family did a group trip for various errands. Some tech shops for Don, a stop to Teddy Bear Town for Raph, Leon wanted to get some magic tricks if they could, and Mikey had the groceries. If April has her way on this trip, they’re also going to get some new clothes for Casey.  

He’d been reluctant to get or take anything for himself recently. He was still too unsure of where he belonged in this new timeline or what was going to happen for him going forward. Mikey quietly thinks that Casey wasn’t used to having something permanent to go back to, or being able to have a lot for himself. 

Which sounds like the standard from the brief descriptions of the future he was from. 

Hopefully, they can help with that. They’ve been quietly carving out a space for him in their home until they have a plan for what he’s going to do. His new room should be ready any day now. Secretly, even if he does leave, the space will be a permanent part of their home for him to return to if he ever needs it again. 

Mikey’s humming to himself, stretching his arms out as he mentally goes through the week's rotation of meal possibilities. Casey rounds the corner, and the greeting Mikey has died in his throat as he notices something odd. 

Casey flinches and then looks quietly sad before trying to cover it up. It’s a flinch Mikey’s coming to recognize more than he’d like. It’s the same flinch Raph has when something comes near his face now, the one Donnie gets when he’s been without his shell too long, and the same one they all get now when the news talks or shows a particular piece of damage from the invasion. 

Mikey’s confused though because there’s nothing here, in the hallway of their home where they’re supposed to be safe that Mikey can think of that would set that off. Casey was looking directly at him, though, so Mikey looks down and notices something. He’d been stretching his arms out in front of him, palms out and fingers splayed to stretch out his hands and wrists too. It’s a pose that was probably the same one or similar enough to when he tried to open the portal.

And then it hits him and oh. 

The portaling thing must not have ended so well for future him, and since future Michelangelo did that to send Casey to the past… 

“Casey?” Mikey’s voice is quiet, too afraid of spooking the human more than he already has, and he wraps his arms around himself as he waits to see what Casey does. It seems to work as Casey snaps out of whatever thought he was following, eyes focusing in again on Mikey as he tries to recover.

“Master Michelangelo! Hi! I’m sorry I was just, um… lost in thought.” Casey seems wrong footed now, uncertain of how to proceed and Mikey sympathizes with that. None of them have an easy time going right back to normal after getting caught in one of these moments. 

“You’re good, Case. Excited to finally go out and experience the real New York?” Mikey’s trying to pick the mood back up. He’s not sure if Casey wants to talk about whatever he saw or if he’d even be comfortable enough with Mikey to talk about it. 

That does help, even just a bit because Casey’s eyes get some more light into them as he nods “Yeah! I heard a lot of stories about places that you used to visit or existed before the invasion. I can’t wait to see what it all looks like now.” Mikey’s ready to give a whole praise fest about the city they get home, to hype up this trip so Casey has a distraction but then Casey’s eyes cut back to his hands and a somber look is back on the human’s face.

“I should have told you, all of you, about what happened in the future.” Casey’s voice is serious, and Mikey’s heart is breaking because he really didn’t want Casey to think he had to say anything. “I should have warned you about what happened when you sent me back.”

“There wasn’t really any good time for that.” And there hadn’t been, not really. Between trying to stop the Krang, getting the key, and getting back Raph it had barely felt like there had been time to breathe. “Besides! You telling me about what happened probably wouldn’t have stopped me from trying it, and it all worked out in the end right?” Mikey is nothing if not an optimist, and he knows deep down, that’s true. Even if he had known what could’ve happened, he still would’ve done it all the same. It was worth the risk.

Casey doesn’t really seem to relax at that, even if his posture does loosen up a bit "I didn’t even know you could do that until that day. I’m not really sure how many of us did, or how you even knew about it. You stuck mostly to your chains and the fire, but you always let us know about the other things you could do or when you were learning something that could help.”

“Really?” Mikey would’ve thought that was something a resistance would’ve known. A kind of back-up plan they would always have in their back pocket. 

“Sensei knew about it. I think you both knew the consequences, too.” Casey’s hands are in fists at his sides, and he’s not looking at Mikey, staring at the floor instead. “You both seemed to just accept whatever was going to happen next.”

Mikey flounders for a second, not really sure how to respond at first, before he’s grinning "That’s because we knew it’d work out.” Casey’s face goes from solemn and serious to bewildered so quickly it was almost comical. Mike’s grin grows further, and he continues, “We were sending you back! I’m sure we knew you could do it! And guess what? We were right!”

Mikey would bet a hundred times that that was the truth, because he knows himself and he knows Leo just as well. He believes, secretly, that they could accept it because it meant they protected someone in their family by doing that.

There was enough turtle that shined through in Casey that Mikey knows deep in his bones he’d known them his whole life. It makes a phrase he’d heard from Gram-gram and from Raph, and of a phrase Casey had kind of mirrored.

‘As long as there are Hamato, there is hope.’/ ‘Hope, a ninja’s greatest weapon.’

And yeah, Mikey thinks he knows exactly what the future Mikey and Leo were thinking. 

Casey’s mouth drops open in surprise for a second before he starts laughing a little. It’s a good sign, so even if Mikey’s confused, he’s not gonna let it dampen his mood. Mikey takes initiative and moves forward, linking an arm with Casey’s as easily as he does with any of his brothers, and starts walking them both towards the kitchen. “Now, what do you say you help me out with making a list so we can hit the city? I won’t say anything if you sneak an extra snack on it!” 

Mikey pauses, thinking for a moment, before amending sheepishly, “Unless it’s got peanut butter in it. Can’t have that in the lair with Raphie’s allergies, after all.” 

There’s a look on Casey’s face that is bittersweet, and Mikey thinks that the future him must have done things like this to help distract Casey before. It makes Mikey’s heart hurt, and he tightens his grip as he feels that weight that’s made a place in his chest shift. A comfort and like it wants to react in another way, but it isn’t time for that yet. Casey nods, though, and there’s a grin on his face so Mikey counts it as a win.

It’s not until about halfway through making the list that part of what Casey said to him clicks, “Wait… Other things? What other powers did I have?!”

Casey startles, nearly dropping the notepad and pen he’d been holding. He glances up nervously “Um, I’m not sure if I should say?” He glances down at the nunchaku strapped on the belts Mikey wears "You used your powers to make a lot of extra chains? Even after you stopped using the nunchaku for it and learned a few other things, you still preferred that. I think it was the easiest for you.”

Mikey’s mouth drops open and his eyes go wide before stars practically shine in them “I can make chains without my chucks?!”

Casey winces, because he can practically see the exasperation that is going to be on everyone else's face when Mikey shares that fact with them. 

Luckily, it does mean it’s not a surprise when months later Mikey does just that. Snatching one of them out of the air after a misstep while jumping across the rooftops, and both nunchaku were still strapped securely in place. It’s an even bigger relief when Mikey admits that it feels like he’s only strained a muscle, and they know more practice should prevent that from happening again.

It’s only slightly ruined by the fact that Mikey immediately gets a mischievous look on his face and wonders if he can get Draxum to teach him some of the moves the yokai did with his vines. His older brothers groaned as they recalled how annoying those vines had been at times, and wondering exactly what crazy things Mikey would get into if he managed to copy that.

[runawaymun]

Might I request Elrond x Platonic reader h/c and fluff fic, where reader comes home after a hunting trip etc. with a minor injury like a bump in the head or something and Elrond gets very fussy about it. Extra points for parent/child relationship cause I have problems.

Dad!Elrond x Platonic!Reader ~ Iris

Genre: hurt/comfort/fluff  Warnings: mild blood and injury cw (reader has a broken nose).  For: @tuuliii​ Reader pronouns: she/they

Sindarin Translations:  Ada - informal: dad/papa  Tithen pen - little one 

You’d spent most of the day out hiking in the surrounding woods gathering wild herbs and other plants for your own experiments. Usually you’re pretty sure-footed, but there had been a hard rain the night before and you completely misjudged how slippery a certain slope would be. The rain had loosened the soil and clay and you’d slipped, rolled down it, and managed to crack your nose-- which, in your opinion, was marginally better than spraining something. At least you’re capable of getting yourself back home.

Lindir walks past just as you cross the bridge back into Imladris and, as he turns to look at you, his eyes widen to saucer-proportions. You’re painfully aware that you look awful-- covered in mud from head to toe, hair askew, scrapes along your arms and and knees from where you’d broken your fall. And, of course, your nose was starting to swell. You’d managed to stop the bleeding on the way here but it had to be bruising by now.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” you insist. “I’m going straight to the healers. Don’t you dare tell Ada.”

Lindir swallows and you brush by him up the road and into the house. It takes some maneuvering (the last thing you want is to run into Elrond on the way in), and you garner more than a few concerned looks. When you reach the healing halls, you head for one of the unoccupied surgeries and find Mírion inside, mixing up some tinctures and poultices. You set your travel bag unceremoniously on one of the chairs and hop up onto the bed.

He turns to look at you, first taking in your disheveled state and then trailing to the floor, where you’ve tracked mud all the way in. 

“What happened to you?”

“Don’t ask. It’s too humiliating. Can you just patch me up before Ada sees? He’ll throw a fit.” 

“Lia will throw a fit about the floor,” he scolds. 

“Tell her I’ll mop it.”

He lets out a long-suffering sigh and gathers up a few items: bandages and plasters, a bowl of hot, clean water, and some honey and strong spirits and brings them over to the table by the bed. 

Just as he starts examining your nose, Elrond bursts in. 

“What happened?” he exclaims, rushing to your side. Mírion backs up to give him space as he takes your face in his hands, turning it this way and that, gray eyes filling with worry. 

Lindir is right behind him, hovering nervously in the doorway. You shoot him a betrayed look which he returns with a helpless (and rather apologetic) shrug of his own. 

Elrond prods the bridge of your nose with his thumb and you hiss in a breath at the sharp burst of pain. “Ai! Ada!” you try and brush him off but he won’t be moved. “I just had a nosebleed, that’s all.”

“It’s broken,” he scolds. “What were you doing?”

“I lost a fight with a riverbank,” you say dryly. “Slipped and fell. I’m fine.” Your nose, the treacherous thing, picks that exact moment to start bleeding again. You roll your eyes as his mouth sets into a thin line. He produces a handkerchief and presses it to the bridge of your nose. 

“Lean forward,” he commands, utterly unamused. You obey and replace his hand with your own, pinching to stem the bleeding and wincing at how that just makes everything hurt more.

Mírion slips out with Lindir and Elrond washes his hands and returns back to the bed to examine all the little bumps and scrapes, making little disapproving noises in the back of his throat. Once the bleeding has stopped he takes the handkerchief, sets it aside, and takes your face to glower at your eyes, then holds up a finger for you to follow. You do, glaring at it as he drags it left, and then right. Satisfied, he asks:

“Your ears are not ringing?”

“No, Ada.”

“And you aren’t dizzy?”

“No, Ada.”

“You did not lose consciousness when you hit your head?”

“No.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed to take cool, wet cloth and make you press it to your nose to help with the swelling, and then sets to work cleaning the mud out of all the little scrapes. “If your sight blurs or you begin to feel nauseous or have trouble sleeping, tell me.” 

“It’s a nosebleed,” you complain. Your voice sounds nasally even to your own ears.

“It could have been a concussion,” he clucks, “Or a septal hematoma and neither of those ought to be taken lightly. You are fortunate it’s not necessary for me to reset anything. You are not to go out on your own for the next week.” 

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” you mumble. 

“Which is why I am glad Lindir did,” he replies back, because with that superior hearing and experience raising two very mischievous twins, you have never ever been able to get anything past him. “And Mírion would have anyway. Sleep with an extra pillow to keep your head above your heart until the swelling reduces.”

You pout while he plasters up the scrapes, applying the alcohol as disinfectant and the honey and plasters where needed. If you’re honest, though, the attention is kind of nice, though you would never admit it out loud. 

“What were you doing climbing down a muddy riverbank in the first place?” he asks at last. “You know better.”

You have the decency to blush and you reach for your travel pack and pull out a now rather smashed up bouquet of purple crested irises. You’d seen them growing at the base of the bank and, to your credit, had actually gotten ahold of them before picking your way back out.

“I know how much you like them,” you say, but you’re far too embarrassed to look at him. 

He’s quiet for a bit too long, and when you glance up at him at last he looks completely torn between laughing, scolding you profusely, and crying. He takes them from you and kisses your forehead.

“You are so dear to me,” he murmurs. “Thank you, tithen pen. I love them.” He can’t keep from adding: “But you must be more careful.” 

“I promise not to go climbing down any riverbanks after it’s rained,” you say. 

“Good, but don’t think that will get you out of house arrest. You still are stuck here until I am certain you have not given yourself a concussion.” 

You sigh. He presses his hand to your head and hums a tune in the back of his throat, and you feel the pain in the bridge of your nose ease. He brushes your hair back from your face with another affectionate kiss to your still-muddy forehead and says: “I will bring you some new shoes before you get up so you avoid tracking more mud everywhere. Be sure to apologize to Lia and Lindir for the mess.”

“Yes, Ada.” 

He stands from the edge of the bed and takes the wilted irises over to the the poultice-mixing station to find a glass to stand them in, and the next time you go into his office, you find that he has dried them and put them in a vase as a permanent fixture on his writing desk. 

[cazzyvintage]

Perfectly Exasperating - Chapter 3

Synopsis: While you have been unknowingly kidnapped Zemo is determined to make the time he spends with you the best that he can

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s note: Hey all! This is sorta a one-month celebration of my account and for all the love you guys have shown this series and my other series 'A Freudian Slip' I can't thank you enough! My editing program decided to screw me over though so if you can see a difference grammatically in the first half and the second half that's why

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the warmth from the sun shining through the curtains touching your skin waking you up. Yawning and stretching, feeling the soft duvet move on top of you, you sighed in content, closing your eyes again as you embraced the happiness which had been foreign to you for so long. You reach out to seize the end of the duvet and gradually slide out of the bed; you feel the slight chill of the morning breeze brush against your exposed legs. Crossing over to the wardrobe your hand reaches out to flick through the many dresses, shirts, trousers that hung in there, all belonging to shops such as Gucci, Prada, Valentino. There were clothes appropriate for any event, but today you choose comfortably as you pull out a maroon knitted sweater and dark blue jeans. Though appearing to be rather cheap clothes, you knew Zemo would never have spent less than $100 on them.

When Zemo said he would take care of you, he meant it in every aspect. It was a culture shock going from the relatively poor life you lived, surviving off the small amount of money they paid you for being an Avenger to being treated like royalty by Zemo. Not that you were complaining. It was a guilty pleasure of yours enjoying this luxury, a part of you hoping it would never end. If you had told yourself just a few weeks ago, you would have enjoyed living with Zemo you would have laughed in your face but that man had certainly turned on the charm and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest big thankful for him for everything he has done for you.

You finally leave the confines of your room, something you had only been allowed to do a few times until today. You convinced Zemo yesterday that you weren’t concussed from when John had hit you with the shield and that you would be fine getting up and walking around. He was still hesitant but knew he couldn’t keep you confined in your bed forever.

You close your eyes as you inhale the sweet smell of cooking pancakes, making your stomach grumble greedily. Following the scent, you work your way down through the interior design living room into the lavish kitchen where Zemo currently had his back turned to you as he attempted to flip the pancake he had in the frying pan. His purple turtleneck sleeves were pulled up, exposing his forearms as they tensed, trying to get the timing right to flip the pancake. He does so with perfect accuracy, the golden brownness of the pancake soaring up into the air and landing back down in the frying pan, sizzling.

Zemo giggles to himself, celebrating his minor achievement as he waves the frying pan, his body swaying along slightly with it.

“That smells heavenly,”

Zemo whips around at hearing your voice pierce the air. “Ah y/n! Please, take a seat while I make breakfast,”

His eyes follow you as you take a seat down at the table he had prepared for this morning, then focus back on the breakfast at hand. You pour out some orange juice Zemo had left on the table, then your gaze flickers back to him as he finishes cooking. He stacks the pancakes onto two plates and grabs some sugar, maple syrup, and lemons out of the shelves, giving you a choice of toppings.

You scoff as he turns around, seeing on the apron he had tied around himself the words ‘kiss the chef’ on it.

“Really?” you ask, raising the glass to your lips as you watch him glance down to his apron and then back up to you offended.

“You don’t like?”

“It’s embarrassing to look at!” you exclaim as he places the plates down on the table and sits down opposite you.

Zemo’s eyebrows twitch as he scoffs back at you, “I think it suits me, plus a kiss is expected after I worked so hard on breakfast” he says, tapping his cheek with his finger.

You raise an eyebrow, letting a breath out as you laugh, “Yeah, in your dreams,”

You two settle into a comfortable silence as you readily eat the breakfast he made. The pancakes were soft but delicious, sickeningly sweet but you have always had a sweet tooth and so it seems, does Zemo.

“I thought you would have one of your staff make breakfast, you never struck me as the person to do something yourself when you can make others do it,” you say breaking the silence as you finish the last of your pancakes.

Zemo glances up to you, tilting his head, “Why do you think that? Because I grew up rich?”

You nod, not attempting to make yourself sound nicer, “Yes. It’s common knowledge the rich are always spoilt”

His lips twitch up into a smile at your bluntness. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs as he addresses you.

“You’re right. Even though Sokovia was a rather small country, I grew up with more riches than most people could dream of. But at least I acknowledge my privilege. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

“Depending on what you use your privilege for. Blowing up the UN isn’t exactly putting it to good use now stop avoiding my original question,”

Zemo bites the inside of his mouth as you see through his attempts at trying to dodge the question. His admiration for you however outweighed any annoyance he might have felt at being called out for it. Leaning forward again to rest his arms on the table he says,

“It’s only me, you and my Butler who occasionally comes in. After I was arrested, there was no work for my staff so they all left and I can’t exactly hire anyone else,”

You nod, satisfied, then dab the napkin that Zemo has set out beside you, on your lips to get rid of any leftover sugar. You place your hands on the table and push yourself up from it.

“Well, thank you for breakfast, and thank you for looking after me this last week… that was nice of you, but I better be going. Do you know where my phone is?”

Zemo’s eyes furrow and he immediately stands up as you walk away from the table. He rushes past you, stepping in front of you to stop you from walking.

“You can’t leave y/n,”

Your head jilts back in confusion, “Why not?”

“We ruined Karli’s plans, so she is trying to find us. That’s why Sam and James are out hiding and why we must remain here,”

“I can handle Karli,” you tell Zemo, trying to step past him, but his hand reaches out and grasps your arm firmly.

“Not a super-soldier y/n. It’s too dangerous, especially after your recovery. James and Sam will reach out to me once it is clear to leave, but for now, we stay.”

You huff in frustration, shaking Zemo’s hand off your arm as you cross them. “Well, at least get me a phone so I can keep in contact with them too,”

“I’m afraid I can’t get you a phone currently, but you are welcomed to use mine. Alas, James and Sam have my number but I don’t have theirs’s so unless you remember their numbers we have to wait till they message first to reach out to them,”

You let out a melodramatic sigh, rolling your head looking to the side of the room then back to Zemo.

“So what the hell am I to do to keep occupied?”

Zemo tilts his head, his eyes flicker to the side in thought as he opens his mouth wordlessly and his eyes move back to yours, his eyebrows raising as he frowns thinking over the idea that has just entered his head.

-

With his fingers, Zemo, gazing at you eagerly, beckoned you down the corridor, towards a giant door that was at the end.

“I’m not a dog Zemo” you complain as you follow him

“Have you ever heard of dramatic effect?”

Zemo had taken off his apron and replaced it with that coat he loved to wear so much. You firmly believed it gave him a power complex. He strutted to the end of the hallway and placed his hands on the door. His face turns to you smirking, enjoying this dramatic pause as you roll your eyes at him. He pushes the door open and stands to the side, sweeping his arm across the space to let you in.

You walk past him and your eyes widen in amazement as you walk into the most magnificent library you had ever seen. The room itself stretched out almost further than you could see, seeming to go on and on. The shelves looked like they reached up to the sky, each one stacked with thousands of beautiful hardback books. The design of it looked like you had just stepped into heaven, with white and gold being the main colour scheme. On the ceiling was a painted sky with the gods on, looking down at you. On the pillars separating the shelves were little cherubs, their bows positioned to pierce your heart. Everything about this library was beautiful. It felt like a library that should belong to a museum not kept in this private mansion.

“You see why the dramatic effect was necessary?” Zemo says stepping up beside you, looking out at the shelves before you.

“Zemo this is… this is beautiful,”

His eyes flicker to you then back to the library, a smile appearing on his lips, “Yes, I suppose it is. When I was younger, I had always taken things like this for granted, but after my time in prison I believe it’s made me more humble,”

You walk over to the nearest bookshelf, letting your fingers brush over the colourful hardbacks. You pull one book out, stroking the golden platted side. “You must have every practically every book in existence here”

“I have more books than I could ever get round to reading. You can find anything you want to read here,”

After ten minutes you had gathered a rather sizable book pile you were determined to read, full of fictional and non-fictional books, some of your favorites and some you had never read before.

Zemo chuckled as you tried to hold all of them in your grasp. As you picked one up, the book on the very top of your pile slipped and fell to the floor. Panic surged in you, worried you would damage something so expensive, but Zemo’s hand appears and catches it before it could hit the ground.

Straightening up, he gave you an amused smile, “Maybe you should let me help carry them”

Accepting his help, he takes half the book pile off you and guides you over to a place deep in the library where you two could read. There were two light green armchairs facing each other, with a fireplace just behind them. To the side of the chairs were small tables which contained bookmarks, a goblet, and an ashtray, and to the side of one chair was a globe which could be opened, and inside it held a decanter full of whiskey.

Zemo places the books in his arms on the table then walks over to one shelf, browsing till he finally finds the book he was looking for. He returns to find you getting comfortable in your chair, opening the first book.

“Whisky?” he asks, opening up the globe beside him.

A few days ago you would have said ‘no, no way,’ but today you smile and nod your head, reaching out with the glass beside you to gracefully accept the drink.

-

The next couple of days were spent similarly with you and Zemo spending much of your time reading in the library together. Occasionally you two would even read to each other as he had first done with you when you had woken up here. Though you would never admit it to him, his smokey voice made you very comfortable. If he tried, he could lull you to sleep with that accent of his.

You couldn’t help but try to separate the Zemo you know now as the one you used to hate. Yes, he had torn apart your family, but he had all the reason for what happened to Sokovia, what happened to his family. Plus, this Zemo seemed to try hard to make it up to you. Almost too hard. He was trying everything to keep you entertained while you were stuck here, make your life as comfortable as he could. It was nice.

You strolled into the kitchen hearing the quiet buzz of the radio playing the latest top hits and the sound of someone humming along to the music. In there you find Zemo by the counter, fixated on the bowl he held in his arm and the spoon in his hand as he delicately tries to put the mixture into the cupcake trays before him. You had offered to make food, feeling like he always did too much for you but every day he insisted he would, even on days where it Butler would come around.

“Need help?” you ask, walking over to stand beside him.

He glances at you, then back to the tray he has laid out before him. “I’ve got a handle on this,” he replies just as he spills some mixtures onto the counter, making him swear under his breath.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you say, looking down at the spilled mixture. You turn to face him, letting out a chuff as you place a hand on his arm, “Zemo stop being so prideful and let me help”

As soon as your hand comes in contact with his arm, he freezes. He glances down at the ground, swallowing then his eyes flicker to yours and he smiles gently, his usual arrogance disappearing. “Okay,”

You grab a spoon from the draw and help Zemo scrap off what he puts into his spoon into the cake tray with accuracy. You two stand together, your shoulders brushing up against each other till you finish and put it into the oven.

“We have 30 minutes until we need to get them out. Why don’t you read for a bit while I clean up,”

“I can help clean up,” You tell him already going over to the sink to turn the water on, “You’re not my servant Zemo,”

“Helmut” he suddenly says

You turn back to look at him, confused at the seriousness of his face, “Please y/n, call me Helmut,”

Your mouth moves wordlessly for a moment, then you say, “Helmut,” trying the name out on your tongue. You were so used to calling him Zemo, you had forgotten that that wasn’t his first name.

“Thank you” he whispers, glancing away from you bashfully.

He takes a towel off the side of the rail and dries up everything you washed as you two settled into a peculiar silence.

Attempting to liven the atmosphere again, you put a cup just at the right angle of the running tap that the water splashed into Zemo’s coat. He steps back shocked, glancing down at his coat then back to you. He lets out a laugh, his mouth open in surprise that you would do that. “Oh, if that is how it is”

Zemo quickly grabs a mug, running it under the following water. Realizing what he was going to do you let out a squeal and rush for the door but you don’t get far enough till you feel the water hit your back, soaking your t-shirt.

“Helmut!” you gasp as he chuckles at you. You run forward to grab the nearest thing in front of you to chuck it at him, a piece of bread in this case but he ducks as it flies over him. He fills the cup up again and runs towards you but you get to the table and hide on the other side till you were both poised opposite each other waiting for one of you to make the first move.

“This isn’t fair!” you whine, feeling the coldness of your t-shirt cling to your back. “Who said anything about fairness!” Zemo shouted back, grinning at you.

Eventually, you two called a truce when the oven chimes letting you two know the cupcakes were finished baking. After that day, Zemo always asked if you wanted to help him make meals.

-

“Is the popcorn ready?” you shout as you jump up from the floor where you were placing the DVD into the DVD player.

“Almost done” Zemo calls out.

While waiting, you settle yourself down on the middle of the red sofa, twisting your back to get that perfect spot as you stared up at the giant screen in front of you.

Zemo emerges from the kitchen holding the popcorn and places the bowl onto the table in front of you. He settles down beside you, instantly positioning his arms on the top of the sofa, resting behind your head.

He leans forward to pick up some of the popcorn, tossing it in his mouth as he asks you what you have chosen to watch tonight.

“Beauty and the Beast,” you say excitingly and Zemo coughs, leaning forward as he accidentally inhaled the popcorn in his mouth.

He wipes the tear from his eye as he leans back and you give him a confused look, “Do you not like the film?”

“No-no, it’s not that. W-why do you want to watch the film?”

“It’s my favorite Disney film,”

He nods his head slightly looking down at the popcorn, “I see…” he then glances back to you, looking you in the eyes, “Why is it your favorite Disney film?”

You lean back sighing as you think the movie over, “Well, I’ve loved it since I was a kid. I always wanted to be like Bell and I found the beast so sweet and gentle”

“Even though he imprisoned her?”

“He let her go in the end, and she came back to him”

Zemo opened his mouth wanting to say more, but you sushed him as the movie started, wanting to concentrate only on it.

Zemo turned down the lights to make the experience feel as cinematic as he could of you. Grabbing the bowel he offered you some of the popcorn and you smiled at him in thanks. He tried to enjoy the movie, but his eyes kept wandering back to you, watching your expressions as you watched the movie. His heart skipped a beat every time you laughed at it when that gorgeous smile would grace your face, even in the sad moments where it looked like you were about to cry. He loved seeing how you reacted to everything. There were so many things he had taken for granted, and it felt like he was discovering them all over again with you. It fascinated him to find out the beauty and the beast was your favorite film. It was almost ironic given your current situation, one of which you remained painfully unaware of. He knew he couldn’t keep you in the dark forever. Sam and James were bound to discover where you two were eventually, which is why he wanted to enjoy every moment he had with you to the fullest before it was over.

As the movie went on, Zemo could feel your body moving closer and closer to him. The heat that radiated from your body made him want to wrap his arms around you, but he didn’t know if that would go too far. Roughly by the end of the movie, your head rested against his chest, moving slightly up and down as he breathed. He could tell by your shallow breathing you had entered the realm of dreams.

Looking down at you, he couldn’t help but admire how peaceful you looked. When on the mission with Sam and James you had always appeared tense, prepared to fight your way out of a situation as soon as possible, but at this moment you were relaxed and it made his heart flutter. He could look at you forever like this and never tire of it.

He had found himself in the past comparing you to his wife. He felt conflicted feeling this way about another woman, but how he felt about you differed from how he felt about his wife. It was new, exciting, addicting. Slowly raising his hand, he brushes a piece of hair that had fallen over your face while you slept. Your skin was smooth against his fingers and so soft. His fingers lingered on your skin before finally, he let his arm rest around your body, holding you close as you slept against his chest.

-

Your arms were raised, feeling the walls on either side of you as you tried to figure out if you were going and if you were about to bump into anything while Zemo’s hands were clasped around your eyes tightly.

“Don’t you trust me y/n” he whispers in your year, snickering.

“Do you want a pleasant lie or the harsh truth?” you ask, turning your head slightly but Zemo tuts and moves your head back with his hands

“Not long now, just a few more steps,”

“Till what!” you whine

“Be patient y/n!”

Zemo lifts one hand of your eyes telling you to keep them close and you hear the creak of a door open ahead of you. His hand returns to your face and with slightly pushing his body against yours, he urges you forward into this new room.

“Can I finally look now?”

Zemo removes his hands and steps back from you, “Okay y/n, open your eyes”

Opening them you gasped in shock seeing what was before you. On a stand was a replica of Belle’s dress in Beauty and the Beast. Its honey yellow colour shone out, the top of it tightly clung to the mannequin it was on while the bottom poofed out, it hung with no shoulder straps and came with yellow gloves. Everything about it was perfect.

“Helmut I- I’m, stunned,”

“You like it?” he asks anxiously

You turn to him grinning, “Of course I do!”

You hug him tightly, ecstatic, then rushed over to the dress, brushing your fingers along it. “It’s beautiful” you whisper.

“I think I got the sizes right,” Zemo says coming up beside you, a pink tinge to his cheeks, “There’s only one way to know for you,” he adds on, turning to you giving you a gentle smile

He helps you take the dress off and chuckles as he watches you rush off with it to get changed, then leaves to get changed himself.

The dress fitted perfectly on you. Everything from the bust down to the waist. Even the gloves fitted perfectly. When you entered the bathroom, you found Zemo had even found some make-up in case you wanted to use any. He thought of everything.

Finally looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. You truly felt like a Disney princess. Slowly you walked back down the stairs and enter the room Zemo had to lead you in, to begin with. As you walked in, let out a merry laugh as you saw Zemo, dressed up in a blue jacket, embroidered with yellow roses on the sleeves, just like the beast. He was standing by a record player, putting a disk in as you walked in. He turns to look at you, his mouth opening in wonder.

“Y/n… you look glorious,”

His sincere comment makes your cheeks heat up and you hold your arms out to him, squeezing your hands letting him know you want to hold his hands.

He turns the record on and your favorite song from Beauty and the Beast floats out, making your cells light up with excitement.

“Helmut” you start to say as he walks over to you, holding his hand out, “Why are you doing this?”

He gently takes your gloved hand, bending over to kiss it. “I know it isn’t easy being stuck in here all the time and you said you loved ‘Beauty and the Beast’ so I thought it would make a pleasant treat,”

His arms hesitantly touch your waist as he looks into your eyes as if asking it was okay. You nod and step closer to him, taking his hand in yours holding it up. Getting into the waltz position you two start to move along the dance floor, swaying to the music.

You two slide along the ballroom floor, picking up speed. As you look up to him, he breathes out smiling back down at you happily. His hand on his waist spins your around as your dress flutters out. You squeal in delight as you grasp back onto his hand as you felt dizzy.

You two turn around the floor looking each other deep in the eyes. You could feel his breath on your face as you two were barely inches apart from each other. Zemo pulls you in even closer as your arm goes around his neck, your body pulled into his. He dips you as you cling to him tightly for dear life as the music fades.

He holds you into that position, panting as he looks at you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. You could feel that pull towards him, your eyes starting to flutter shut. He leans towards you but suddenly you feel your fingers slip and you almost let go of him. His other hand quickly wraps around making sure you don’t fall to the floor.

He helps you back on your feet and you two steps apart. You look away feeling your cheeks burn up again.

“Helmut, thank you. Thank you so much” you tell him earnestly

He looks deep into your eyes, smiling in bliss, “Anything for you y/n”

-

“Y/n, are you awake?”

You groan as you hear Zemo whisper beside you, waking you from your sleep.

“Ugh, Helmut what time is it,” you moan turning over with your eyes are closed.

“It’s 8, time to wake up”

“Nooooo” you whine screwing up your eyelids.

You hear him chuckle and then you feel something push against your lips. You open your eyes confused to see Zemo beside you, holding a strawberry to your lips.

You smile and take a bite out of it, moaning in delight as you taste its sweetness as you sit up. He sits up beside you and holds out some melted chocolate for you to dip the strawberry in.

“Helmut, you spoil me”

“Not enough,” he whispers back as he puts the chocolate-covered strawberry to your lips letting you take another bite.

“I’m not even surprised anymore to see you in my bed when I wake up,” you tell him

“Technically this is my bed”

“You know what I mean!”

He chuckles as he pushes his head back into the headboard, “I thought it would be a nice way for you to wake up,”

“Consider me impressed,” you tell him, looking over at him smiling. He glances back to you, his lips twitching up. You lean into his side, not caring at the moment you were in a simple nightdress. You close your eyes inhaling his cologne and picking up a strawberry to feed to him.

“I could get used to this,” you whisper to him

-

You scan the piano music book before looking back down to the notes before you. It had been a while since you had last played so you thought you might as well pick it up while you were stuck in Zemo’s mansion.

You press the notes but every time you tried to play one of the chords you always missed one. You were trying to play your favorite song 'Comptine d'un autre été' but to no avail.

“You need to flow with the music and not worry about hitting the right notes”

You turn around and smile as you see Zemo approach you from behind. “Isn’t the whole point of music to play the right notes?” you say sarcastically

Zemo lets out a huff chuckling, “Well yes but you’ll hit the notes when you stop trying so hard. Now try again”

You turn back around and attempt the music again but hit the wrong notes making you slam the piano in annoyance.

“Don’t damage the piano”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I should give up,”

“No don’t do that” Zemo says, brushing his fingers over your waist, “Here let me help you”

He puts his hands on top of yours guiding them, “Let’s try again,”

You look to the music then back down to your hands which had Zemo’s resting on and attempt to start playing again. His hands moved in time with yours as they guided along with the piano, pressing down on your fingers when you needed to. You got every note. Well, Zemo got every note.

“See, easy,” he says as he pulls back from you. “Now try again”

You attempt to play again but feeling his eyes stare into your back you couldn’t concentrate and messed up the notes again.

“We just went through this!”

“It’s hard to concentrate with you staring at me!” you exclaim turning around to him. Your eyes widen as what you just said as he tilts his head, a smug smile appearing on his lips.

“Oh, I make it hard for you to concentrate do I?”

You groan at his cockiness, looking away from him so he doesn’t see your glistening red cheeks.

He walks up behind you again, his fingers grazing your jawline, stopping at your chin as he raises your head to look up at him. Seeing him look down at you made a knot in your stomach tighten.

“You are awfully red y/n”

“Shut up”

He chuckles and leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I like it when you blush”

The breath gets caught in your lungs as you feel his lips on your forehead, their softness cooling your burning skin.

For the first time in your life, you were rendered speechless, by Helmut Zemo no less.

His teeth flash in his smile as he looks down at you, “Come let’s practice this again” he says, leaning over as his back pressed into yours, putting his hands back on top of yours.

-

“Zemo do you mind if I borrow your phone briefly to see if that new video has been released?” you call out picking up Zemo’s phone that he had left on your seat.

“Go ahead! Just don’t check anything else on there” he yells back

“Worried I will find your nudes?” you call out as you unlock the phone. Pressing onto the youtube app you sigh in annoyance seeing no new video and so you were about to put the phone back down when a message appeared from a contact simply labeled ‘S’

It read, ‘S: Look just tell us where you have taken her. Whatever you are doing with her it isn’t worth it”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at what the hell could that message mean. You click onto the message stream just to see a ton of messages from this ‘S’ contact but with no reply from Zemo.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing Zemo wouldn’t want you to do what you were about to do, but your curiosity got the best of you and you pressed the call button.

It rang for a few seconds and then the line picked up.

“Zemo” Sam’s voice rang out through the phone

“Sam?” you ask back

“W-what, YN/!? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Woah Woah Sam, calm down, I’m fine! I’m with Helmut-Sam what is going on?”

“What has he done to you?”

“What do you mean he's done nothing, Sam I thought me and Helmut were hiding out here till Karli was done with her plan?”

You hear a sigh down the phone and then the muffled voices of what you could make out as Bucky and Sharon down the line.

Sam picked the phone back up and spoke directly, “Y/n you need to get out of there now. Zemo, he's kidnapped you”

The phone slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a loud crash.

Tag list: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @loonylunalovegood77 @lieutenantn @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @arianalilyblack @mandowhatnow @scullys-alienpussy @felicityofbakerstreet @babayaga67 @spookycereal-s

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

             It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

             “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

             “I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

             You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

             “You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

             You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

             It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

             “Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

             He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

             “Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

             Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

             “No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

             “Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

             “So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

             “I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

             “Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

             When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

             You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

             Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

             “Quit ignoring me girlie.”

             You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

             “Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

             “I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

             You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

             “Touché.” You hear back.

             “Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

             “Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

             “Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

             “Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

             You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

             The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

             You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

               “Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

             “You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

             “Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

             You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

             “You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

             “I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

             “And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

             “I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

             “I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

             “Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

             “Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

             You just nod your head.

             “Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

             You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

             “Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

             When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

             “Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

             You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

             He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

             Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

             “So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

             “I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

             “I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

             “Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

             “That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

             “Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

             “I’m sorry they what?”

             He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

             “Known for?”

             “Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

             “I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

             You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

             “That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

             “You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

             “Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

             “Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

             He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

[sluttbuttsstuff]

For the prompts, 49 with doppio? >:3 Idk what it is about him I just look at him and think “oh you’re NEEDY needy, huh?”. Thank you so much, you’re a really good writer! :)

No problem buddy, thanks for the request! >:3

Warnings: not sfw, dubcon/noncon, abduction, dark themes, yandere, etc.

Also, my requests are still open, if anyone else is interested!

Enjoy!

Yandere prompt with Doppio, “You want me to fuck you…? Would that make you happy? Would it make you love me?” afab reader, dub/non con

All you wanted to do now was go home. You had had a long week at work, your parents were nagging you again, and to make things worse you had a headache that would not go away. After an exhausting day that began before the sun was out, and ended after the sun had set, you certainly deserved to do nothing more than go home, eat some junk food in your comfy pjs, listen to a podcast while you took a bath and pampered yourself, and maybe jerk off before bed. Unfortunately, you had a “girls night” tonight.

Your friends (your IRL friends at least) complained that you never went out with them anymore (nevermind that whenever you suggested doing something with them, or wanted to chat or text on the phone they were busy) and had forced you to go clubbing with them to celebrate the three-day weekend ahead. You weren’t much of a drinker, and really weren’t much of a dancer, so you had been given the purses to hold while you waited for them to be ready to go home.

You wrinkled your nose in frustration, glaring into the blurry screen of your phone looking at the late time: this was unfair. You were a hard worker, kind to a fault to those around you, and you deserved better than this. Sitting in a corner of a crowded club, everyone in the place having a great time except for you, tired and alone. At least in your apartment, you chose to be there, and at least no one actively ignored you: places like this just pointed out the flaws you hated about yourself more: you were bad with people, and easy to ignore.

Once one of your “friends” stumbled over to the group’s table, you left them with everyone's purse, mumbling you were going to the bathroom (you didn’t know if she heard you and you didn’t care) and left before anyone could stop you. You stumbled your way to the restroom in heels way too high for you to walk in, trying to clean yourself up and find a quiet place to text your goodbyes so your friends wouldn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Leaning over the sink counter, you wiped a makeup smear off the corner of your lips, noticing a second too late someone behind you.

“Hey, there’s another sink-” You began to say to the blurred figure way too close to you, before a sudden eruption of pain hit the side of your head, and you were out in a flash…

The next time you regained consciousness was several hours later, but it was still dark when you opened your eyes, trying to remember what happened and where in the world you were. The stale cigarette smell, the unreasonably cold ac, the bedsheets starched so strongly that the sheets felt like plastic- this was definitely a motel. But where, and how long had you been here? As you began to sit up, you heard a surprised, timid voice.

“Oh, thank goodness! You’re awake, I was beginning to worry about you! Hold on, don’t move so suddenly, i’ll help you sit up.

Sure enough, as you started moving, your head lit up with painful throbbing that made last night’s headache seem like nothing in comparison. You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes shut, trying not to groan in pain.

“What the hell happened to me last night?” you grunted through your teeth, rubbing your temple as gentle hands helped slowly sit you up propped against cushions.

“Haha, you had a lot of bad luck last night, running into my boss. He was waiting for...an employee in the restroom and thought you were sent after him. He’s a bit paranoid, and he may have...accidentally clobbered you.” The voice apologized, gentle as he handed you what felt like a glass of water.

You forced yourself to open your eyes; it was still dark, but you could tell it wasn’t because of the time of day but rather a lack of light and closed curtains. You looked at..you looked at the person in front of you. Like whoever had attacked you last night, they had long pink hair, braided and side parted. Their eyes were green and wide, and they looked particularly juvenile with a crop top and freckles. They were on the smaller side, perhaps even shorter than you (hard to tell from while on the bed) and their eyes were crinkled in apprehension, like he was afraid you were going to hurt him.

“Erm, don’t worry though, I talked him out of doing anything too..extreme, after all I'm his right hand man! Besides, you seem like a perfectly nice person, I'd hate to see anything bad happen to you. Sorry, I'm rambling! Umm, do you want something for your headache? You were groaning in your sleep, I'm sure it doesn’t feel so good right now-” He went on and on, pulling out some painkillers to take with your water.

After thanking him, you were about to swallow the pill before pausing, looking at the strange man who’d taken you to a remote hotel after his boss had nearly killed you. Sensing your suspicion, doppio exclaimed, “Oh, don’t worry, they’re safe, name brand painkillers! Um, hold on, lemme just-” And he made a show of popping some of the pills you were holding into his mouth and swallowing, sticking out his tongue and opening his mouth to show you he’d ingested it.

Satisfied, and more importantly in a lot of pain, you took some of the pills yourself, much to the relief of the pink haired man.

“Oh good, thank you for doing that! I was so worried watching you asleep, you’ll feel much better now! By the way, my name’s Doppio, it’s a pleasure to meet you! Oh! And I know your name’s y/n because you had your purse and ID on you! Haha, sorry for going through your purse, I was just hoping to find any info on you that might be, you know, important.” he sat on the bed, scooching closer and closer to you.

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say, and the watchful eyes of Doppio doing nothing to make you feel better.

“Well, um, thank you, Doppio. I appreciate you, um, saving me? Sorry for any inconvenience, I'll just, um-” You try to get up to leave, only for Doppio to place a hand over your leg.

“Don’t go! What, I mean, what if you hurt yourself? You probably have a concussion, and also you haven’t had breakfast? We could eat together and-” Doppio stammered, grabbing your hand and stroking it with his sweaty, cold fingers.

You had to stop him, before things got out of hand.

“Thank you, Doppio, it really was very sweet of you to take such good care of me, but I-”

“Please! You don’t understand, I mean-” Doppio fumbled with his words, clearly trying to make you stay at all costs.

“Doppio, i can’t stay here forever, i need to go home. My friends are probably worried about me by now.” You tried to press on, you didn’t want to upset the man with a powerful boss, but you felt increasingly claustrophobic with Doppio pawing at you.

“You mean those mean girls who left you with their purses all night? Why would you care about what they-” Doppio covered his mouth with both hands quickly, realizing what he just said.

Your blood ran ice cold; how did he know so much about them? Had he been watching you before the “incident”

Using his moment of weakness, you got up from the bed and tried to reach the door; it was time for you to go home, if not call the cops.

Doppio yelped, Throwing himself in front of the door before you could make your escape.

“Please, don’t be scared y/n! I didn’t mean to upset you, I only meant that I can treat you much better than your friends can. I mean, look at how good I've been for you so far?? I didn’t make you dance with me at the club, even though I really wanted to. I didn’t just have my fun against your will in the bathroom stall like the boss told me to do.I saved you from a concussion, or worse! I got you your own hotel room for the night, and didn’t take advantage of you or touch you while you were asleep! I want our first time to be special, after all! Isn’t that what you want?” Doppio pleaded, eyes wild as he tried to smile, trying to calm you.

You were anything but calm however, this guy was clearly obsessed with you, and had been for longer than just one night. Even if at first he had merely seemed like a pathetic “nice guy” you no longer had any pity or time to give him.

“Doppio, get away from the door and let me leave, now.” you demanded in your best authoritative voice. Doppio whimpered, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all, you were supposed to love him!

“You can’t! Boss and I won’t let you!” He cried, covering the door with his body. With no other choice, you slid out of your shoes and charged at him full speed. You managed to give him a good blow on the head, and threw him out of the way of the door. He cried, crumpled on the ground. If not for the fact that he had kidnapped you, you might have felt bad for hurting him like this, but you had to think of yourself at this moment.

As you finally unlock and pull open the door, heading towards freedom, you hear the strangest noise behind you.

“RingRingRingRingRing!” Doppio calls after you, in an unnatural, high pitched tone. You try to ignore it, you literally don’t have time for this, but with strength he had not previously displayed, Doppio grabs one of your arms, twisting it behind your back and up to his ear, holding it like a telephone.

There’s a trickle of blood, and one of his eyes is rolled back in its socket, but he calmly says, “Hello, this is Doppio,” Into your hand, as if he was having a normal conversation on the phone.

You scream out, doubled over by the pain in your arm, Doppio silent as he “listens” to his “Phonecall” oblivious to your suffering. Where did all this power come from? He was acting like an entirely different person, and frankly scaring you. Doppio nodded, pulling your hand closer into his ear and intently listening to nothing but air before “Hanging up and pulling you back into the motel room.

He threw you on the bed ( his arms felt much stronger, and more muscular for some reason) before crawling on top of you and pinning you down. You were too stunned, and frankly too scared, to come up with any means of escape, just weakly struggling to throw him off of you to no avail.

“Doppio, please-” You whispered, eyes blurry with tears.

“I talked to the boss, and he helped me figure out what to do. He wants our relationship to succeed after all!” Doppio exclaimed, additude reverted to how he’d first spoken to you. You were confused, you’d neither seen nor heard anyone in or around the room, who was he talking to and how?

“Boss told me that people like you need some discipline in order to be obedient, or you’ll walk all over me. If I can do that, then I can make you love me, and we’ll be happy together, isn’t that what you want?” Doppio told you, stroking your cheek.

“This is not okay, Doppio!” you yell, thrashing against both arms, “Let me go or i’ll-”

...

Wait a minute, both arms?

Then how was he…?

You look over to one side in shock, only to see a floating metallic and red arm holding you down, one on either side. You screamed, overwhelmed by a stalker and strange supernatural forces you couldn’t understand.

“Oh, you can see King Crimson's arms? Interesting, perhaps because of your near death experience with Boss, you can see stands now? Although, it would be bad if you developed a stand, what to do?...” Doppio pondered to himself, speaking apparent babble.

You cried, trying to wake up from this obvious nightmare with no luck.

“Awww, hey y/n, it’s okay, i’m not gonna hurt you! Not if you be good for me and Boss.” Doppio cooed, kissing your cheeks and forehead. “I talked boss into keeping you with us- you’re always so lonely at home, and never have a good time with others, right? You don’t have to lie anymore, I've been watching you for a while. Nobody else seems to, though, they’re too self-absorbed and stupid to realize how incredible you are!” He continued, oblivious to his words not helping, but hurting you.

“You’re perfect for me and boss, we can take really good care of you. Forget this lousy motel, we have mansions and villas all over Italy that we can take holidays to. We have billions of Lira from work, you’ll never have to lift another finger and we’ll pamper you to death. And best of all? You’ll never have to see your awful friends or family again! Isn’t it awful how they treat you? We can get rid of them, so they can’t hurt you!” He finishes, grinning ear to ear, but his eyes hollow and lifeless, staring unblinkingly into yours.

This guy was sick, there was no other word to it. You might have had issues with your family, and yeah your friends could be assholes sometimes, but you didn’t want them killed! What good would that do you, or anyone for that matter?!

Doppio seemed to read your thoughts, “Look, I know it's a lot to take in at once, but trust me. Boss and I have planned this out for a while now, and we’re always going to do what’s best for us, ok? So don’t worry so much, and please stop struggling? Boss warned me if you got too unruly he’d take over and finish what he started last night.

A wave of nausea slithered through you as you remembered, thinking how close you were to dying. You gave up, lying limp on the bed, praying for this to end.

Doppio smiled again, this one almost seeming genuine, and gave you the softest kiss to your lips. It was childish, almost, and he clearly lacked experience, but he gained more confidence from your lack of struggling. With the mysterious hands holding you (stands? King crimson?) his own hands were free to touch you. He started With your cheeks, your face, your hair, your neck, stroking you with feather-light touches, his fingers tracing each curve, digit and flaw like he was trying to memorize it all.

“Finally… I finally get to touch you like this… I’ve been waiting for so long, y/n. Do you know how long I've wanted to hold you?” He whispered, wrapping his arms around your neck, cradling your cheek to his. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to, but Doppio told you anyway.

“I’ve been watching, waiting...for so long. Following you home from work, listening into your calls, finding your online accounts. I’ve known since I first saw you that you were the one for me, and now I get to prove it to you. I get to show you all the things I've been meaning to do to you. You’ll never be lonely again, not with me around. We’ll never be lonely~”

He giggled the last part, giddy with excitement, as he slid his fingers down your ribcage, your sides, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt. You wriggled, trying to fight him off again, only to your dismay Doppio giggled even harder at your reactions-perhaps because he knew you could never overpower him.

“Ohhh~ still so shy? Don’t be so uptight, y/n, you need to live a little! I know how much you want this; you complain about it all the time on your personal blog-” You could feel the blush on your cheeks heating up your face, desperate to make him shut up, “ How you want someone to have their way with you, to make you forget everything else in life. You’re desperate for someone to truly cherish and understand you; mentally and physically. You want me to love you? You want me to fuck you…? Would that make you happy? Would it make you love me?” Doppio rambled on and on, ripping your shirt off with strength he hadn’t had before.

You yelped, goosebumps forming on your skin as Doppio cackled, rubbing his face on your stomach, and into your cleavage poking out from your bra.

“Yes, let go for me! Show me every emotion, everything you’ve been holding back from me for so long- i need it, I demand it!” He snarled, splitting your nicest bra in half, and biting down on your neck, hard.

You screamed, legs kicking uselessly as the pain blurred your mind and you were operating purely on instinct. Doppio didn’t seem bothered in the least by it, you could still feel his laughter against your sore neck, as he sucked down on it, trying to bruise and mark you. His hands couldn’t help but find their way to your breasts, toying with them and squeezing them with admittedly little expertise. But he was a quick learner, making note of each little gasp and twitch according to how he touched you, and improving his technique from there. He twisted your nipples a bit roughly, already hard from the chilly air and sensitive to touch- you couldn’t help but moan a little in satisfaction. It had been awhile.

Doppio’s moans echoed yours, as he kissed his way down the crevice of your breasts, and licked each nipple in turn. You squirmed, not in fear or anger but pleasure, angry at yourself for letting this strange man win your body over so easily. Doppio kept his eyes on you at all times, studying your face to see how you felt. He’d had to watch you for so long from so far away, alone in your bedroom, or so you thought… it was time to use the knowledge he’d gained to make your body crazy for him.

You jumped at Doppio’s hands, cupping your groin through your pants, trying not to buck into his hands . It was getting harder and harder to deny him, though, why couldn’t you just-?

Doppio pulled your pants down to your ankles, taking your panties with it. He groaned audibly at the sight- your pussy was so wet and dripping, there was still a trail connected to your underwear.

“No, don’t-” You cried, snapping your legs shut, visibly scared at what was taking place again. Doppio was losing patience, crouching down and prying your legs open,

“Stop fighting me, y/n, you clearly want this!” He cried, eye twitching in annoyance. He managed to open your legs again, and buried his face into your pussy. He moaned, licking up a wet stripe against your labia, warm and puffy and so wet for him- he knew you would be, he knew you loved him.

Tears streaked down the sides of your face, this was so much and so intense. Your thighs clamped down on Doppio’s cheeks and neck, squeezing him as hard as you could. Not hard enough, apparently, as he just started giggling again through a full mouth and busy tongue “Ssho good, y/n, why have you been hiding thissh from mee~?” he moaned, tongue circling your clit. You flung your head back into the pillow, gripping the mysterious hands that held you for any source of strength or comfort.

Watching you whimper so pitifully with his head between your legs, obviously blissed out after being so needy and alone for so long, just did things to doppio. He loved the pained, fucked out expression on your face- you couldn’t even keep your eyes open as he snuck one, two fingers into your aching pussy. You whimpered so cutely, and it was all for him and him alone. Finally~

“Y/n, please, i can only hold back for so long, let me make sure it’s not painful… be good for me, please?” Doppio begged, grinding his hips into the mattress before he could help himself. Begrudgingly, you moved your thighs back just enough for Doppio to push them away, when he got a wonderful idea. King crimson, or what Boss had lent him of his stand to use, sensed his thought, and grabbed both your hands in one arm. Doppio pushed your thighs back and up, effectively bending your knees into your chest and displaying your pussy in such a beautiful way. You cried out, surprised by the sudden movements and embarrassed by how exposed you were, but there was nothing you could do about it. Doppio was just too strong.

The other free hand floated down, spreading your lips apart to give Doppio a nice view before pummeling two of his thick, strong fingers inside of you. You screamed, crying as the fingers curled directly into your sweet spot, massaging with robotic-like precision and speed. The sounds you were making were wet, animalistic, and you were quickly brought close to the brink.

“Perfect, y/n! Just like that, let yourself go! It makes me happy to see a side of yourself you never show anyone else- and you never will to anyone but me! Remember, I'm the one making you feel this good, right y/n? You couldn’t possibly find anything half as wonderful from anyone else but me! Me, got it?!” Doppio exclaimed, his voice cracking and becoming much darker, scarier. For a second, you could swear he looked like a different person entirely, wild, angry and dangerous- but you blinked and Doppio was just as before.

Doppio licked his lips, sweating and anxious, this was good enough to make you love him, right? This was what he had to do to make you happy? Boss’s words from before appeared in his head though, and he remembered how Boss had always been right before. Doppio trusted him, and was determined to win you over. Doppio let go of one of your legs-you seemed adequately distracted and restrained to get away from him- and unzipped his fly. In truth, he would’ve preferred to get all the way naked with you for the first time, so you could see and feel the real him as well, but clearly the two of you were too desperate and impatient for him to get fully naked. This time.

You whimpered at the sound of a zipper, feeling the fingers pull out of you. You heard the crinkle of a wrapped, and the muffled groan as Doppio probably rolled a condom onto himself, but you were too afraid to look. The strong floating hand, still wet with your juices, gripped your cheek and forced you to look at Doppio, staring you down with much more restraint and calm than he had been. Doppio kissed your cheek, then your lip, and pushed his warm cock achingly slowly, gently, into your waiting pussy.

You couldn’t help yourself from moaning, grabbing at the hands that held you, thrusting yourself onto Doppio’s hard and hot cock. He bit his lip, feeling you twitch and squeeze around him; he was trying so hard to be gentle for you, why were you still making things so difficult. He chuckled to himself, and motioned for King Crimson to let you go; finally you were beginning to relax and enjoy yourself, and he wanted to enjoy every bit of it.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Doppio, holding him close to you. Your mind was a mess, your body even messier, you didn’t know what to think or do about your abducter/rapist fucking you so tenderly, and you were tired of fighting. So you let him fuck you, slowly and gently and way way emotionally. Doppio wiped away new tears you hadn’t realized were there, shushing you, “It’s okay, my sweet y/n. Just relax and let me do the work. Don’t fight it any more, just let go.” He whispered, pressing kisses into your lips and cheeks far too sweetly.

So you did, you relaxed and sank into the mattress, pulling Doppio down with you. He let go of your thighs, and held you tightly to him as he fucked-no, made love to you. He gradually picked up the pace, huffing and whispering words of admiration to you about your body, or how much he adored you. You took it all limply, the fight having gone out of you and desperate for comfort. The floating arms, which you had forgotten about, reappeared and stimulated your nipples and clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Doppio sped up as well, he knew this would have to end, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible. This was your first time together, after all. He wanted to make it special. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer into you. You could feel the spongy head of his dick rub your inside so sweetly, you were starting to get addicted to the feeling. Doppio buried his head into your neck, mumbling nonsense as he pushed in deeper and deeper, faster and faster, as his restraint gave way to passion.

“Y/n I- I don’t know how much longer I can last, but-” He kissed you, as the stroking of your clit sped up. You groaned loudly, you were so close, “Just a bit longer, please~” You begged, biting your lip. Doppio took a deep breath, steeling himself as he was determined to make you come first. He pounded into you, urging you closer and closer, four sets of hands circling your body and drawing out noises and gasps from you out of your control.

“Almost there, please, almost~!!!” You cried, throwing your head back with a final sigh as you came hard and fast, your core heating up and washing over you as Doppio helped you ride it out with clit rubs. Your walls fluttering around him, the face that you made as you came from him, for him, it was too much and he quickly filled his condom inside of you, moaning even louder than you had as he thrust without abandon into your wonderful, most precious place. He didn’t want to stop, thrusting almost to the point of overstimulation, before he had to stop, and collapsed on top of you. He cooed and kissed his praises and thanks into your shoulder and skin, before he noticed the soft sound of you snoring. Poor thing, he chuckled to himself, you’d really worked yourself up.

He reluctantly pulled out, after indulging in 5 minutes of cuddling your sleeping body and listening to your heartbeat. Doppio cleaned the two of you off, and tucked you into the covers of the motel- now would be a good time to set up moving you into your new home. After all, The whole reason you were in the motel is because the moving company Boss had hired to move your things into the main base would take several hours to complete their job, and Boss didn’t want anyone seeing you or Doppio at home. Doppio ruffled your hair as you slept, pulling out his cellphone to check in with Boss and give him the full update he’d requested.

Tonight was going to be very busy.

[walkerwords]

“Lookin’ Out For Her” Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: MTV/AMC

Request from Anonymous: Hello! I loved Walker Words, it was so well written! Could I request a Daryl x reader where the reader gets hurt and Daryl is the one to patch her up? Give her stitches and bandage her up and the like. If you wanted to keep going and have him take care of her and help her with everyday things while she heals that would be super sweet. Just craving some super fluffy care! Thank you!! Xoxo

Word Count: 4516

Warning: Swearing, Injury, Blood

Song I Wrote To: “Is This Love" by Corinne Bailey Rae

Note: And we are BACK. Thank you for requesting this!

---------

The Virginian sun was beating down on everyone’s necks as you worked in the lumber yard just outside of Alexandria.

Abraham had recruited you to help the Alexandrians build up their community. You didn't think it was that important but you said "yes" nonetheless. You had been travelling with your group for a while now. Meeting them on the road, Carl, Rick’s son, had saved you from a Walker that had pinned you to the ground. According to the young man, they had just lost their farm to a horde and were looking for a new place to stay. 

It was then that you noticed his pregnant mother and wanted to help. 

You hadn’t wanted to be near other people since the beginning of the end, but you had a good feeling about the Grimes family and their people. You were with them when Rick discovered the prison and you hadn’t looked back.

While you were close with Rick, Carl, Michonne, Rosita, and others, Daryl was someone that you had connected with unexpectedly. Daryl Dixon was an enigma, but one you loved to try and figure out. He was someone who you  never would have bonded with if it hadn’t been for the end of the world, but everyday you were grateful for him and the way he always seemed to be looking out for you. 

There was something unspoken between the two of you and any time that you were apart, you were constantly looking over you shoulder in hopes of spotting the archer. Just as you were now as you worked  near Abraham, cutting into the timber that would help reinforce the walls of your new home. 

“Who would’ve thought?” Ford said as he called out to you. 

“What’s that, Red?” you called back, looking at him through the bright rays of sun that shone down on you. 

“You,” Abraham said. “Who would’ve thought you’d be into all of this?”

“Construction?” you asked, raising your brows. 

“No,” he said with a shit-eating grin, “helping.” Your mouth opened in shock at his jab, not finding it particularly funny. 

“Hilarious,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Abraham just began laughing, enjoying himself. You began to ignore him as you tried to hide your own smile when the sound of growls reached your ears. “Fantastic,” you said with a sigh as you leaned over to pick up your weapon, an extra-sharp machete that Rick had given you after the events of Terminus. 

The Walkers came from the South in a group, all meandering towards the site. “Stay sharp!” Ford yelled as he grabbed a knife in one hand and a hammer in the other. While you had your guns, nobody wanted to use ammo if they didn’t have to. The Alexandrians were worried, shuffling back as the Walkers approached, but you and Abraham moved to the front.

You began taking them down quickly with a few slashes of your blade. Two larger Walkers backed you up until your back hit a pile of stacked lumber. You took out the first, but the second moved too fast, falling into you. You fell back, hitting your head on the edge of the wood as you went down. The Walker landed on your arm, pressing it into the metal stake keeping the wood tied together. Groaning out in pain, you shoved your blade into the side of the Walker’s head and shoved it off with disgust. 

“(Y/N)!” Abraham yelled as he ran towards you. He took out the last Walker with a swing of his hammer before arriving at your side. “Ya alright, girl?”

“Fine,” you grunted, taking the hand Abraham stretched out for you to grab. Abraham pulled you to your feet and you ignored the pounding behind your eyes as you brushed sawdust off your jeans.

“Are you sure that you are okay?” he asked, slipping into his sergeant mode. 

“Abe, I am alright,” you said, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Few bumps and bruises ain’t gonna keep me down.”

“Well, just head back alright? We’re gonna be headin’ inside any minute now,” he ordered. 

“I can help clean up,” you said, but he was shaking his head. 

“(Y/N), go,” he said and with a sigh, you saluted the man, picked up your machete, and turned back towards Alexandria.

-------

Arriving back home, you tried to keep steady on your feet, but it was becoming more difficult with each step. 

Nodding to Rick and Glenn who were speaking to Spencer, you continued on towards the house that you were sharing with the Grimes, Michonne, and Daryl. In the distance, you could see Judith being carried around by an amused Tara who swung her around on her hip, trying to make the little girl laugh. 

The ache in your head was the only thing distracting you from the searing pain in your arm. You could also feel thick blood starting to saturate the sleeve of your shirt, but you did your best to ignore it. If you could manage to get home and up to the bathroom unseen, everything would work out. The last thing you needed was for one of your friends to clock your injuries. 

Climbing up the steps to the house, you relaxed as it sounded empty. Dropping the façade, you let the pain show on your face for just a second, but a second was all it took for him to notice. 

“What’s wrong with ya?” Daryl said from a quiet spot on the porch. Still not used to how silent the man could be, you jumped out of your skin at his deep voice. 

“Fucking hell, Daryl!” you exclaimed, grabbing at your chest with your bad arm which only made you wince further. “Way to scare the hell out of me.” Daryl, who had been cleaning his bow, got to his feet and approached you, his brows drawn together. 

“Are ya gonna answer my question?” he asked, looking you over. Suddenly feeling somewhat shy, you took a step back from him, turning so your bad arm was further out of sight. 

“Walkers came up on us at the lumber spot,” you explained. “Everyone’s fine, but I got knocked down. It’s nothing.” 

“Is it also nothin’ that you can’t keep to stand still without staggerin’?” Daryl noticed, gesturing down at your feet. Glancing down, you saw a dizzying pattern of dirty bootprints as if you had horribly failed at a field sobriety test after a night out. 

“I…” you tried as the pain increased. “I may have hit my head on the way down.” 

“Mmhmm. Come on,” Daryl said as he took your arm to keep you steady and led you into the house.

“I can walk, Daryl,” you complained. 

“Yeah, into a wall maybe,” he said with a scoff. You frowned, but didn’t pull away as he took you to the room that he had claimed on the first level. 

Daryl’s room was quite neat, but considering none of you had many belongings, it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. Clothes were strewn across a single chair in the corner while his leather jacket was thrown on the unmade bed. Bolts for his bow, old and new, were on a table in front of the window, and tools for the bike Aaron had given him were tossed on top of the dresser.

It was very…Daryl.

“Sit,” he ordered, helping you to the edge of the mattress. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Daryl mirrored the motion before leaving the room quickly. You sat there awkwardly as Daryl went to fetch the medical kit. Being in his room alone, you felt as if you were in high school and in a boy’s room for the first time.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you chastised yourself. This was Daryl, your friend, your partner when it came to runs or watch. However this was also Daryl, the man that had bewitched you body and soul. “Easy there, Darcy,” you said, shaking your head, trying to dislodge your Austen fantasy. 

“What?” Daryl asked as he returned with the supplies. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, averting your eyes. Daryl just hummed a response before sitting next to you and then gesturing for you to remove the flannel shirt you wore over your tank top. Carefully, you pulled down the sleeve and then slipped the shirt off your shoulder, the blood sticking to the fabric. The fresh wound snagged on the threads, causing you to hiss out in pain, but eventually you got it off. “Damn,” you swore, finally getting a look at the cut from the stake. 

“Not exactly shallow,” Daryl said, examining the wound. “It’s gonna leave a scar.”

“What else is new?” you said as a ringing entered your ears. You rubbed at one of them, trying to dislodge the annoying sound. 

“That’s what I thought,” Daryl said. 

“What?” you asked as Daryl began wiping away the extra blood with a towel. 

“Ears ringin’, right?” 

“Maybe…” you said, very aware of how his fingers moved across your blood-speckled skin. 

“Probably a concussion. The dizziness, ringin’, headache that I know ya got… irritability,” he said with a look and you swatted at him. “All shit ya get from a concussion.” You sighed deeply, not liking how the day was going. The last thing you needed was to be benched with your family in a new environment. You weren’t the best fighter, but you were damn good at surviving and you had to stay sharp. 

Daryl finished removing the blood before grabbing the needle and thread. Looking away, you stared at your boots as he tugged your skin back together. “Needles make ya sick?” he said with amusement in his voice. 

“No, but watching you stitch my flesh back together ain’t a walk in the park,” you said and then Daryl had an even softer touch.

“Almost done,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb above the wound, trying to soothe you and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. “If you don’t tell people when you’re hurt, how are we supposed to help ya?” he asked. 

“It’s not your job,” you said, not really thinking it through. 

“Like hell it’s not,” Daryl shot back, but his tone remained calm. “We look out for each other, (Y/N). That’s what we do.” 

“I know,” you said, letting out another deep breath. “M’sorry.” Daryl tied off the last stitch and cut it before reaching for the bandage. You looked back just as he smoothed the sterile gauze over your arm, pressing it down firmly. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Daryl didn’t respond. Instead, he ran his hand down your arm until it got to your hand. Slipping his fingers into yours, he intertwined your hands together, rubbing his calloused fingers against your own. 

You sat like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe, feeling the pressure of his hands in yours. This happened occasionally and you weren’t exactly sure what it meant. Daryl would sit next to you, press his leg into yours or even reach down and take your hand.

Back at the prison, he would just enter your cell and sit next to you. Even on the road, sometimes, he’d take your hand as you walked, letting it swing between the two of you. Daryl never  spoke, but he always made sure to add some pressure, as if letting you know that he was there. A part of you never wanted to look into it further. You all had seen some horrible things and you knew everyone needed to feel grounded. 

Daryl gravitated towards you to feel...something, you just weren’t sure what that was yet. 

“You know,” you whispered, leaning into him a bit, “there is a doctor here.” Daryl’s grip tightened then, almost as if he was afraid you were about to run. Looking up at you, his eyes were blue fire as he stared into your own. 

“And you ain’t goin’ anywhere near that son of a bitch,” Daryl said. “He ain’t layin’ a single hand on ya, not after what I know what he does to that wife of his.” 

“Daryl,” you said, trying to keep him calm, “Pete’s not gonna hurt me.” 

“I know he’s not,” he said. “Because I’d kill him if he did, I don’t care who the hell he is.”

“Is that you lookin’ out for me?” you asked, reaching up with your other hand to brush a strand of hair from his eye. 

“Just don’t go to him, (Y/N),” Daryl said. “Alright?” If he was one to say “please”, you figured he was about to.

“I could have a concussion, remember?” you pointed out, still feeling the blooming migraine. 

“You’re gonna be alright,” he said. “Herschel told me how to handle that. You’re gonna stay here with me tonight. I gotta keep wakin’ ya up so you don’t end up in a damn coma.” 

“Is that the only reason?” you asked, testing the waters. Daryl looked at you with a raised brow. 

“It’s the one I’m giving ya for now,” Daryl said. 

“Just for now?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said with a quick jut of his chin. You nodded and then leaned against him, feeling the pain echoing through your body. Daryl looped his other arm around your shoulder as you began to drift off. “I got ya, (Y/N),” he whispered as fatigue finally took over and you slumped into the man at your side.

-------

Daryl kept his word and made sure that he woke you up throughout the night. 

Any time his hand shook your shoulder, pulling you from your dreamless sleep, you awoke to his gentle face aglow by the camping lantern. He’d ask your pain level and make you drink water.

Afterwards, Daryl would get you to lay back down, smooth his hand over the side of your head, and you would fall right back to sleep. When he woke you up for the third time, you noticed a makeshift ashtray sitting on the window sill of the open window, the smoke filtering out into the night. Having known Daryl for a while, you knew what it looked like when he was taking watch. 

“Get some sleep,” you whispered as you rolled over to face him as he walked back towards his perch. 

“I’m fine,” he said. “I got hours yesterday.”

“Liar,” you mumbled, already fading. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep again was Daryl leaning back against the window frame, his eyes on you as he flicked his cigarette in his fingers. 

In the morning, your head felt a bit better, but your arm was killing you. Hissing in pain, you opened your eyes and rolled onto your back. Shadows danced on the ceiling from the sunrise and the breeze that floated through Alexandria. 

“Mornin’,” Daryl said from his spot by the window.

“Were you there all night?” you asked, sitting up. 

“Nah, took care of Judith a couple of times,” he said with a shrug. 

“Daryl…” you sighed, shaking your head. 

“It’s nothin’,” he said, waving you off. Getting up, he walked over to where you were and sat down next to you. From his pocket he pulled a pen light of all things. 

“Where did you find that?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Carl grabbed it from asshole’s office,” Daryl explained as he clicked it on and raised it before your eyes. 

“Do you even know what you’re doin’?” you asked. 

“Just follow the light,” he said with a huff and so you did. Daryl checked out your pupils to make sure neither was blown and then stowed the light away. “Arm,” he ordered, grabbing the medical kit from the side table. Moving your arm felt like moving a ton of bricks. Then pain was bad from the wound, but your muscles felt as if needles had been going in them for hours. “Swelling went down a bit,” Daryl said as he gently prodded the skin. “Maybe we can find some meds for the inflammation. I’ll see what we got here.”

“Who would’ve thought?” you said as he changed the bandage on your arm. 

“What?”

“Doctor Dixon,” you mused with a grin. Daryl rolled his eyes, scoffing. 

“Shut up,” he said, but you could tell he found it funny. 

“Guess I’m banned from helping with the lumber for a bit,” you said with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Ford’s orders.” 

“Well, I ain’t about to sit here all day and do nothin’,” you said as he finished his task. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stood up, testing your balance. When you were satisfied enough with the results, you went in search of your own room, desperate for a change of clothes. 

“Don’t fall!” Daryl called as you exited the room. You sent him a rude gesture over your shoulder, making him laugh. After only tripping twice, you managed to get to your room, grab some new clothes, and hit the shower. It was a hassle keeping your arm dry under the constant spray of water, but you managed well-enough. 

Once you were dressed and feeling somewhat human again, you headed back down stairs to only be met with Daryl. “You need to take it easy,” he said. 

“I’m not going to go hunting Walkers, Daryl,” you said, carefully pulling on your boots. “Maybe Olivia or Aaron could use some help. I know Gabriel has been wanting to get the church back together.”

“Great, let’s go,” he said, leaning against the front door. 

“You taggin’ along?” you asked, pulling yourself up. 

“I gotta make sure ya don’t collapse and take someone down with ya,” he said. With a quick laugh, you placed your knife in its sheath and approached him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, you moved him out of the way. 

“Mmhmm,” you said with a smirk, “well, come on then, Doc,” you teased. 

“Oh my god…” he said, but followed you nonetheless. 

-----

For most of the day, Daryl was by your side. 

No matter what you were doing, he was there. Once you had convinced Gabriel to let you help him, he had you moving some things from Scott’s garage and into the church. Daryl, however, wasn’t on board with all the physical activity you were doing. So, instead of letting you carry the heavy boxes, he was there taking the weight himself. 

Daryl helped you carry anything over a few pounds and if you were being honest with yourself, you were rather enjoying him being so protective. He continued to help you the entire time you were doing errands for the priest and even when Deanna asked you to help move some files from the basement for Maggie to review, Daryl was there. 

He never once complained, but he was talking more than usual. As you completed the tasks for the day, Daryl was asking you questions about your life before the Apocalypse. He wanted to know where you grew up, if you had any siblings, and even what your parents were like. You knew a lot about his upbringing, but you never really spoke about your own. Still, with every question, you answered him honestly and it actually felt nice to talk about your family. 

When he asked about what those first few months after the firebombs dropped on the cities were like, you began to grow quieter. As with everyone you had met in the new world, you had lost people from the first day the Dead began to rise and it hadn’t stopped. You told Daryl about the first people you had met on the road, the ones who had been slaughtered by a group of the Dead as you were escaping the city. It was then that you had decided to take on the world alone if possible. 

That is until the fateful day in which you met Carl Grimes. 

When Daryl asked about any fears you had, you began to laugh. “What’s so damn funny?” he asked as you sat next to him in Aaron’s garage as he worked on the bike. He didn’t want to let you out of his sight and you knew he needed to get some grease on his hands before the day was over. 

“I guess I just never thought we would ever have to talk about our fears again, ya know? Aren’t we all scared of the same thing these days? The Dead, assholes with guns...each other.” 

“Each other?” Daryl echoed. “What do ya mean by that?”

“How well do we really know each other? Eugene lied to us for weeks, Tara was with the Governor, and even the people here are unknowns. I don’t know, Daryl, I guess if I had to talk about any fears it’d be that I’m scared that I don’t know how to trust anyone anymore.”

“That ain’t a bad thing,” Daryl said. “Best to always be on alert, that way ya don’t end up dead or worse.”

“It’s exhausting,” you admitted, rubbing at your temples. 

“Pain?” Daryl asked as soon as he noticed. 

“I’m fine,” you said. 

“(Y/N),” he said, wiping the grease from his hands and crouching down in front of you, gently lifting your chin to look in your eyes. “Tell me.”

“About a seven,” you admitted. 

“It was lower a few hours ago,” he said with a frown. 

“Guess I’ve been working harder than I thought,” you said, resting your head in his hand. Daryl reached back and grabbed his canteen. 

“Drink,” he ordered and you did, sipping the water slowly. Reaching out, he smoothed a hand over your hair gently. “Better?” he asked. 

“Bit,” you admitted. Daryl withdrew his hand then and left you to finish the water, trying to get your hydration back to where it should be. Leaning back against the workbench, you watched as he worked, his shoulders tense as he pulled at gears or unscrewed bolts.

Daryl was always in his element when he worked on mechanics. You remembered the first time you saw him working on one of the cars at the prison. He had seemed so absorbed in everything he was doing, happy to be providing for his new family. 

You knew enough about cars to get by, but you could always learn more and so you observed him whenever you could. Watching Daryl rebuild cars or work on Merle’s bike was one of the main reasons you began to grow closer to each other. 

He looked up from his work then, feeling your eyes on him and he gave you a crooked grin, one that was rare, but one you loved so much.

-----

As day turned to night, Daryl helped you get home. 

The dizziness was back in waves and so he had you by the arm as you walked through the streets of Alexandria. He had tried to carry you, but after refusing over and over, he had relented to just holding you up, keeping a firm grip on you. 

As soon as you entered the house, Michonne and Rick were in the kitchen, making food for the house. “Long day?” Rick asked as you moved past him. 

“Too long,” you said, slumped against Daryl.

“Come on,” Daryl said, “you’re about to crash and burn.” You waved at Rick and Michonne as Daryl all but dragged you back to his room. As soon as you saw the bed, you nearly wept in relief. Daryl had been right, you should have stayed home. “Hungry?” he asked. 

“No,” you said as you sat down. Daryl kneeled down and began to unlace your boots as you held your bruised arm to your chest, trying to relieve some of the pain. “I should get hurt more often if this is the kind of treatment Daryl Dixon gives me,” you said with a lazy smile. Daryl looked at you with an exhausted look. 

“Let’s not, alright?” he said as he finished with your boots. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said as you flopped back onto the bed. Daryl got up and joined you, sitting next to you. With your good arm, you reached up and tugged him down beside you, his body lying alongside yours. Turning your head to look at him, he was already looking at you through messy strands of hair. 

Slowly, you lifted up your hand and offered it to him. Daryl took it in his own and laced your fingers together, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your hands are warm,” you said in the low light of the room, your voice barely above a whisper as if it would crack the tension. 

“Yours are cold,” he said back, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “I should check your arm,” he said, but you shook your head. 

“It can wait,” you whispered, looking into those blue eyes of his as he pinned you to the planet with his gaze. “Thank you, for lookin’ out for me today,” you said, tightening your hold on his hand. 

“Always,” he said. “I’m always gonna be there for ya.” You gave him a small smile then as a shiver took over your body. “Cold?” he asked, his brow furrowing. 

“Bit,” you said with a shrug. Daryl reached behind him and grabbed one of the blankets and draped it over you, careful not to let go of your hand the entire time. His other arm was pressed to your side as he tried to adjust the blanket, but it lingered, adding pressure to your body. “Stay,” you whispered to him. 

“This is my room,” he said, looking down at you. 

“Smartass,” you said, trying not to break his gaze. 

“I ain’t going anywhere,” he said as he sat up a bit higher and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was gentle, but warm, his lips leaving a spot of heat on your skin. When he pulled back, you locked eyes with him again before slipping your hand out of his and reaching up to drag your fingers through his hair. Getting to his neck, you pulled him down to you and he met you there, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. His lips were heavy on yours and he tasted exactly as you had imagined. 

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “Your head needs to heal,” he whispered, not wanting to move any further away from you. 

“My mind has never been more clear,” you said, grabbing his face again. “Kiss me, Doc,” you said and with a chuckle, he did.

Daryl lay with you, kissing you, holding you, and never once leaving your side as you finally succumbed to sleep, your body desperately needing to heal. Looking down at you in the low light of the lantern, he promised that would never let you go, not now, not ever. 

He had asked you about your fears, but you hadn’t asked him about his. In truth, he was only scared of one thing and that was losing you.

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