#tw mentioned character death

[whumble-beeee]

Into the Woods and Out of the Woods

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 9

Content: mentioned past capture, angst, mentioned (potential) character death, child in distress (only for a second there tho)

* * * * * * * *

“In this life, you need to do everything in your power to survive and thrive. Supers aren’t allowed to thrive in this world. We're forced to hide, we're forced to serve, we're taken advantage of. If we don't comply, then we're dangerous, we’re feared, then we're subjugated, imprisoned, or killed. Just look at what they did to me because of my power, weak as it is [...] [They] made an example out of me, knowing I couldn't fight back, and time and time again it has been shown that I am not the only one. The current system needs to be dismantled and started anew. And if– when– ‘The Man’ says no? Then he must be taken down too.”

– Supervillain Aurelias “Elias” Byrne, codename “Alias"

**Note: Danger Level Five: Any sightings of this individual should be reported to the police immediately. DO NOT INTERACT.

* * * * * * * *

[~Not long before Stan McKellen’s recapture (the events of Ch. 1)~]

"My legs hurt!" a high voice groaned from just behind Stan. He sighed deeply and simply continued walking, arms and legs burning for rest from the nonstop exertion.

"Yeah I know, mine too. But we're almost there. And you're not the one with a bad knee, you can make it."

"But you have a magic cane to help you! I just have my stupid normal legs!" Chloe stomped on the ground with each syllable to illustrate her point.

"I'm not using my magic right now, so the cane is just a cane and my leg still hurts just as much as usual,” Stan countered. “More actually. Not to mention my wrist is killing me because I didn't have time to grab my crutch. So that's just gone now, I guess."

"You should use your power to make it easier, like you do when you’re fighting. And use it on me too! Just make my legs walk for me!"

"Not happening, I don’t wanna pass out and die from exhaustion on this hill using my powers because your legs got tired."

"But I'm about to pass out and die on this hill from exhaustion because my legs got tired. You should teach me how to use my powers, then I could just do it myself.”

“Squeaks, I don't know if you noticed, but we're basically being hunted for sport because of those exact powers.”

"Chloe, you wanna ride on my back?" Marcus chimed in, exhausted from listening to his beloved fiancé and said fiancé's equally as beloved younger sister bicker back and forth. Nonstop. For the entire trip.

"Marcus, don't encourage her. We're literally almost there," Stan groaned. He actually had no idea how far they were from the 'campsite'. But Chloe didn't need to know that.

“It's fine Stan, she's tired, she's a kid, we've been walking a long time. I get it.”

“Nuh-uh!” Chloe said in an obnoxiously nasally voice.

“Nuh-uh?” Marcus questioned, at the same time Stan reflexively cracked out a “Yuh-huh!” without even knowing what the hell he was “yuh-huh"-ing.

“Nuh-uh, I'm not a kid!”

“You're thirteen actually, so you're a kid,” Marcus laughed.

“Nuh-uh, nope! Thirteen. ThirTEEN! Teen! Teenager! I'm a teenager! Not a kid!”

“You're not a teenager until you're sixteen, actually,” Stan stated, amused smile pulling lightly at the corners of his mouth.

“Sixteen is basically an adult already, you can't be basically an adult and also barely a teenager, Stan,” Chloe said matter-of-factly.

But at least she wasn't complaining about being tired anymore.

“And I am a teenager, or else why would it be thirTEEN!?”

“Well, only kids get to ride on my back,” Marcus retorted with ridiculously heightened haughtiness, nose raised and all. “So no riding on my back for you then, big teenager.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at Marcus. “Fine, I didn't want to ride on your back anyw–!”

“AND we're here!” Stan announced cheerfully, cutting them off with a mighty huff.

And all fell silent.

Wind whistled through the branches overhead, swishing through leaves with a gentle rustle as the crunching of dirt underfoot came to a grinding halt. The chirps of birds in the distance became audible in their tentative silence, whistles and cheeps and squawks filling the air with a cheerfully chaotic melody. The smell of wet dirt and decaying leaves wafted through the cool air. 

Chloe, of course, was the first to point out the obvious. “Uh. What do you mean?… There's nothing here…”

“Except for the beautiful sounds and sights of nature!” Marcus proclaimed, spreading his arms out and spinning around as if surrounded by the beautiful rolling hills of Austria instead of… Well, the same trees they’d been passing by unheeded for the last hour.

Stan pointed at a dinky circle of rocks on the ground, a slight char to the earth scorching the center of the ring. “Fire pit. This is it.”

“Oh okay, my bad, I guess,” Chloe sarcastically raised her arms in surrender. “Didn't know that a pile of rocks passes for a campsite now.”

“Well, it's what we've got.” Stan plopped his full-to-bursting backpack into the barely-packed dirt. “Hard to be picky when you're on the run from a buncha psycho government crazies trying to torture us or whatever.”

Chloe raised her brow and tilted her head at her brother, arms crossed in that know-it-all sort of way. “Stan. Just because you got a shattered knee doesn’t mean you need to break my back by making me sleep on the best choice owl bones and sharp rocks.”

“Chloe!” Marcus' voice nearly cracked with how high it went, appalled.

“No, no, it’s fine Marcus, she didn't mean it like that,” Stan said. She was just frustrated. “Look, it’s what we got for now. I’ll try to figure out something better for tomorrow. And hey, at least it's not under a bridge or something.”

“Or some mad scientist's lab,” Marcus pointed out.

Chloe shrugged. “I'm just saying, generally it's good to find a place where you don't have to wonder if someone might’ve been burned at the stake.”

Stan had to admit, he felt that same hopeless pit in his stomach that his sister must've been feeling. This was not how he had been hoping to spend his day. Or week, month, year. In fact, he had been hoping he would never have to flee again. Sadly, sometimes it's just not written in the stars that certain people get their way. Ever, apparently.

“... hey Chlo?” Stan called. “How you holding up?” 

She pelted a rock she'd found somewhere into the endless void of the forest. “I'm fine. Wish we had like…” she gestured around, arms wide before throwing them back down to her sides.  “Walls. Or like a roof, or something.”

Ditto.

“Stan?” Marcus called from behind him. Stan quickly made his way over to his fiancé so they could talk in private, as private as you could talk in the woods when the person you're talking about is a 3-second jog away.

“What is it? What's wrong?” Stan whispered quickly.

Marcus grinned conspiratorially at him, eyes flicking around the clearing as if searching for ninjas eavesdropping to learn of his dastardly plans.

“I think it's time–” he whispered dramatically, “for Plan 'Brother-sister-bonding-by-teaching-her-how-to-use-her-powers-and-get-her-out-of-the-mood-she’s-in’.”

Stan scoffed, failing to not let an amused shine crack through features at Marcus’ ridiculousness even as a very real worry took root in his chest. “I guess it probably is time she learned. It’s just hard for her, you know how complicated her feelings are about the powers. But I suppose if no one's around out here to see it, plenty of space…”

“And hopefully it'll help her out of that funk. I can't even begin to think what must be going through her head right now…”

“I can.”

Will I ever see my friends again?

What important things did I leave behind?

Where are we gonna sleep tonight?

When is the next time I'll get the chance to eat?

What if my brother is caught?

What if we're both caught?

Will I finally get to see what mom and dad and Stan had to go through?

I thought we were finally safe.

“It's… it's bad.”

Marcus just nodded sympathetically. The silence was excruciating. 

“... but she's a tough kid, she'll make it through.” Stan finally managed to choke out. “We all will.” 

Marcus pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “How about this: you both go train, and while you're gone, I'll go back to that convenience store we saw a couple miles back and get some supplies. Y’know, the essentials, marshmallows, some chocolate, graham crackers…”

Stan lit up like the northern lights, eyes full of stars. “S'mores night!”

“Yeah! We can use that crappy little firepit you found!”

“Oh, she would love that!” Stan whisper-shouted, nearly jumping up and down, vibrating with excitement.

Marcus’ eyes glinted. His teasing smile nearly made Stan blush. 

“She's not the only one, huh?”  He poked Stan in the stomach, and Stan nearly squealed as he jumped back out of the way, even almost managing to avenge himself by thrusting the tip of his cane into Marcus’ chest. But Marcus grabbed the cane and yanked it forward, pulling a screech from Stan before he felt Marcus’ strong body pin his arms to his sides in a tight embrace before he fell flat on his face.

“Caught you,” he teased in a sing-songy voice. “Whatcha gonna do now?”

“Oh get off it Silva!” Stan yelled as he halfheartedly shoved to try and get away, secretly wishing he could stay here forever.

Marcus let Stan go, instead grabbing his fiancé's hands in his own and squeezing them tight, looking lovingly into each other's eyes.

"We'll have a nice night tonight,” he reassured. “I know things are horrible right now… but things always get worse before they get better. And hell, they could always be worse.”

Slight flashbacks so kindly reminded Stan of the horrors. Every day away from that hellscape was another better day. 

“Things could definitely be worse.” Stan tossed his arms over Marcus’ shoulders with a cheeky grin. “ Like for example… I could be anywhere else in the world, and then I wouldn’t be with you.”

He pulled Marcus down into a soft kiss, one hand on the back of his head to gently guide him and feeling the warmth of skin against skin, Marcus’ body against his own, supporting him wholly. And in that moment, where the world was just the two of them, he let himself imagine that everything truly was okay. That they weren't being hunted down, that they hadn't just had to flee from their home again, that he wasn't alone in this world. Because he had Chloe, and he had Marcus, and he would always have them forever.

He pulled away just as he heard Chloe shout out an over-exaggerated “Ewwwww! Get a room!” From behind them. Stan rolled his eyes and pushed off of his fiancé, who was now practically giggling.

“You better get going if you want to get back before dark. Meet up in, say, three hours?” 

Marcus gave a goofy grin and started on his way back up the trail with a big thumbs up. “Will do! Be back with yummy treats soon!”

“I'll see you in a bit! I love you!”

“Love you more!”

“Are you done eating each other's faces?” Chloe yelled. “Where's he going? What's happening, what are you planning?”

Then Marcus was gone. That small pang in his heart that came around when he couldn't see those who he loved most returned again. He'd gotten used to it, but it never stung any less.

Stan ignored the questioning as he made his way over to his little sister, who was now balancing with her arms out swinging wildly, stepping around and around from rock to rock of the small ‘fire pit’.

“Hey, Chloe?”

Her gaze shot up to his, sea-foam blue eyes peering into turquoise-green. His breath caught in his throat. The words died on his tongue for a moment as he remembered all that he had done for her. To keep her safe. To try and keep her happy. The times he clutched her in his hold, held her hand, shoved her behind him, shielded her from anything that could harm her in favor of harming himself instead.

And he would keep doing that, every single time. But that didn’t mean he would always succeed, and they needed to prepare for that.

It was finally time, huh?

Chloe tilted her head at him. “Uh… Stan? Why are you looking at me like a serial killer?”

Stan startled. “Ah, right! Sorry. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go train your powers some.”

Chloe’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Really!?” 

She jumped up as high as she could off the rocks and scrambled over to Stan. “I thought you said I couldn’t learn them because they’re dangerous!”

“I never said that!” Stan protested. “We just haven't had the chance to do it because other people want to hurt us over them. That’s why they’re dangerous. Not the power itself. Well, the power itself also can be dangerous... But you need to know it. To defend yourself. In case.”

“...in case?” Her eyebrows creased slightly.

“Uh… well, yeah, in case–”

“Boring! Let's go! I wanna learn!” Chloe interrupted a bit too quickly, grabbing Stan by the wrist and damn near tripping him flat on his face when she started to drag him toward… she didn’t even know, really. To learning powers!

“Augh! Chloe! Stop, I’m gonna trip and die and it'll be your fault!” Stan’s heart jumped into his throat and he struggled to keep his balance.

“Use your magic to fly or something,” she said giddily, though she did let up slightly on the pulling. “It's like a warm-up so you can teach me better! I bet I'll be even better at it than you!”

“Ha! In your dreams you'll be better than me!”

* * * * * * * *

Chloe was unusually quiet on their trek to find a spot to practice. Stan would say something, and then she'd brighten up for a moment, bantering and hollering as usual. But then her jaw would clench, her brows knit together. Staring into the middle distance as they walked, looking at nothing in particular. Thinking. She even ignored various cool-looking rocks and tree formations, never once trying to climb the haphazard structures.

She might be worse off than he originally thought. 

They came upon a clearing in the brush.  Flat ground, no trees or rocks in the way. 

Perfect.

“Alright, Chloe,” Stan started, startling Chloe out of her walk as he took a ready position, feet apart and grounded for a steady base, cane at the ready. No going back now. “Now I've seen you trying to use your powers without permission before and honestly, you did pretty good.”

“Nuh-uh!” She interrupted obnoxiously. 

“Yuh-huh! I've seen it!” Stan bit back without missing a beat. 

“Nuh-uh!!”

“Yuh-HUH!”

“NUH-UH!” she shouted, and Stan barely managed to block when she jumped up and tried to bap him on the top of the head.

“What are you even ‘nuh uh’-ing here?” Stan cried, accompanied by a small screech as he ducked away.

“I thought you were about to say I shouldn't have done that. But then you said something else,” Chloe shrugged.

“So you doubled down?”

A pause.

“Yesssss...”

Stan rolled his eyes. 

“You really shouldn't have used your powers, to be fair…” he considered, tapping his finger on his cane. “Especially since you know what would happen if the wrong people found out. You remember. The– the uh…”

The running.

The raids.

The people in the armored vests.

The guns.

The murder.

Our magic killing just as easily as it lifts a mug into the air.

My disappearance, the experiments I won’t talk about.

Our parents.

Stan cleared his throat. That was all in the past now. 

Chloe’s eyes were downcast, holding her arms close in a self-hug. 

Yeah. 

She remembered. 

“But uh– But I did the same when I was your age, so I can't judge. You did pretty good from… from what I saw. So I want you to show me what you've got so far.” 

Stan lifted himself off the ground in a light float, the bottom of his good leg and his hands glowing a harsh bright blue as they lifted him away from the earth. “Then I can show you how it's really done.”

Chloe’s eyes raised, a tired smile forcing its way to her lips. “Show off.”

“Well, maybe once you learn, you can also get a big head about it.”

Chloe gave a small huff in acknowledgment, her smile slowly falling from her face as she stared blankly at the ground.

Stan carefully lowered to the ground. This wasn't something they could just ignore and hope would go away, was it? 

He crept up to Chloe, the wind rustling the trees overhead creating an almost deafening cacophony in the silent spell that had befallen them like a thick blanket.

“Chlo?...” 

She wouldn't meet his eyes. 

“Talk to me, Squeaks, you’ve been off all day. What’s wrong?”

She took a sharp breath in, face scrunching up, eyes edged red.

“What do you think?” she whispered, hissed, practically. “I hate our powers. This is stupid, they’re stupid, I wish we never had magic. I don't wanna learn, I wanna– I just wa-anna be normal.”

Ah. Yeah.

Stan knew the feeling all too well.

He tried to find something encouraging to say to help lift her back up to normal, to tell her that everything would be okay and that she was perfect the way she was, powers and all. But he found that he really didn't have any words to say to make this better. Nothing that was true anyway. She wasn't wrong.

“... Chloe,” he finally started. “I need you to learn this for me, kid. I need you to be able to… to-to defend yourself in case… In case I can’t.”

Chloe’s body lurched with a held-back sob. “I don’t want to learn! I hate our magic! It’s not fair! I wish we never had powers, then I could still have a normal family. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about you not being able to protect me! I wouldn’t have to protect myself, I wouldn’t have to be strong, I don’t want to be strong! I wish Mom and Dad were still here! I just want my mo-mommy and daddy-y-y!”

She cried freely now, breathing shallow and fast as she tried to catch her breath over the shuddering and the tears, muscles clenched as she hugged herself in some small attempt at security, face scrunched and small and pained as she finally let out all that she’d been holding in the entire trip. For who even knew how long.

He gazed at her with glassy eyes; his sister weeping before him. She’d been through so much. His wonderful, amazing, annoying sister who he’d been through hell to protect. 

She didn't deserve this.

They both didn't deserve this.

He pursed his lips. Tears burned at his eyes now too, threatening to wet his cheeks just as they were doing to Chloe.

He pulled her in close to his chest, heartbeat thrumming against her as he held her tight. A hug she didn’t reciprocate, didn’t need to.

“I know. Me too,” he whispered.

It was unfair. It was incredibly, heart-wrenchingly unfair. Just knowing everyone and everything they ever loved could be so easily ripped away from their desperate grasp as easily as wind blows leaves across the ground. 

“But…”

Stan had screamed and cried about it for many a night and day, mourning the loss of the person he could have been if anything else was different.

“That’s not the hand we’ve been dealt,” Stan murmured into his sister's nappy hair, clutching her even closer as she trembled. “It's unfair, it's so, so unfair. But that's just…”

Screaming.

Crying.

Begging.

Running.

Wishing for something different.

“That's just how it is.”

And that’s why I need you to learn.

She let out a sob into his shoulder. They sat like that for a long while; Listening to the sounds of nature which never ceased around them. The whistle of the wind through trees, the birds chirping all around them. The continuously quieter weeping as the girl in the center of it all tired herself out.

“Those ho-orrible people, Chloe?” he breathed. “They want to capture you. They want to capture me. They did capture me. Tortured me. It’s a… It’s a miracle I escaped, honestly. They captured Mom, Da-ad. And–... and they would do it to you too, if-if given the chance.”

Teary wetness started to soak through the shoulder of Stan’s shirt.

He squeezed her shoulders, breath shaking. “I need you to… I need to know you can defend yourself, okay? A-and as much of a curse as our powers are, they’re strong. So strong, just like you. You can learn how to use them to defend yourself, right? In case I can’t anymore, in case–”

“DON’T SAY THAT!!” Chloe cried out, angry, desperate azure eyes flashing angrily up at her brother as she pushed away from him. “Say that you’ll always be here for me! Always! You can’t get caught again! I need you! Marcus needs you! You’re gonna stay with me and we’re gonna find Mom and Dad and you’re never going anywhere ever again, and neither am I! And neither is Marcus, or Mom, or Dad, and if anyone tries to hurt them again then I'll kill them and then we can all stay together! An’-- an’ I'll get the guys who tortured you too and I'll make them pay.”

Stan felt a melancholy smile overtake his face through the running tears. Maybe not the exact right motivations, wanting to kill anyone who ever tried to hurt them. 

But it was a start. 

He knew he couldn’t promise that he would always be here to protect her. His parents had promised the same thing. And yet…

“Don't worry, Squeaks, I’m–... I’m not going anywhere. Nev-never plan to,” He sniffled. “Also, uh… maybe don't kill them… that wouldn't make you much uh, much better than them, would it?” He winked. “Maybe just maim them a bit.

Chloe nodded slightly, jaw set as she took a deep, shaking breath and a similar smile Stan's started invading her features as well. “Yeah… Jus’-just broken bones. Thr-throw them into the ceiling like you do a little. Pay them back for your knee...”

Stan snickered. “I would love to pay back the person who crapped up my knee…” and he couldn't help the welling pride in his chest as he raised his gaze to look his sister in the eye once more. It almost caused the tears to start pouring all over again.

“And if you were the one to get them, Squeaks? Maybe you let me get in on the action too? God, I would let you lord that over me forever.”

Chloe burst into a little laugh, still marked with the haunting ghosts of sobs. “I would never let you forget it.”

“So… you're on board then?” he asked tentatively. “Gonna learn your powers and defeat the bad guys for me? Marcus is bringing some treats back to camp for when we’re done too, though you’ll get them either way, we all need a bit of a pick me up.”

“Treats?” She looked up at him like an astounded little puppy dog. Stan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah! So you wanna work the magic a bit? Or you just wanna head back and be lazy?

“I…” She was still shaking. “I… I think… magic. But uh, but… You-you can fight your own bad guys. I’ll be too busy floating around you to help you not get your ass kicked.” 

Her eyes widened slightly when Stan raised his eyebrow at her.

“I mean… Butt.”

Stan scoffed. “Yeah, okay potty mouth–”

“Potty mouth? Are you five years old?”

“Am I five years old? You’re the one who can't say ‘ass’.” 

“That's because you're my brother!”

“Well,” Stan theatrically cracked his knuckles and drew some power up through his cane as he grinned at her smugly. “You know any five-year-olds that can do this?”

He swiped with a grand flourish at the nearest tree across the clearing, a full sweep through air in front of him with all the force he could muster up, bathing the now sunset orange-red ring of trees in a blast of eerie aqua blue. A deafening crackle-pop came from deep within the trunk, as if the wood itself was screaming out in protest, in agony, as cracks started to explode outward, shining through with bright blue light bursts. The side of the tree exploded with a thunderous roaring creak, gnarled and deep and sharp and twisting as it showered bark and wood pulp down on the two siblings as the both screamed in what was terrified joy and dove to duck and cover.

Stan immediately realized his error with a playful screech, jumping in front of Chloe and pulling her in close to shield her from the flying wooden shrapnel machine that the tree had so unwittingly become.

Then once again, the clearing was safe, wooden rain finishing its downpour, a few stray splinters tip tapping into the ground. The only sound to be heard now was the breathless laughter of two siblings as they took in the full breadth of what just happened.

Stan had just exploded a tree.

It looked like a cannonball had been shot through it! But surprisingly, it was still standing. Tilting, sure. But standing.

Stan cleared his throat, blinking against the wood dust. Chloe now stared openmouthed and wide-eyed at the mighty tree, a deep eternal gash scarring to the very heart of the wood.

“I uh–...” Stan coughed with a curt laugh. He had to pant to get enough air into his system “I didn’t expect it to explode that much.”

Chloe’s gaze shifted back to her brother, open mouth and all.

“That. Was. AWESOME!!” She cried, jumping up and down like a child on a trampoline. “I mean, you basically killed that tree… but that was so cool! I didn’t know we could explode things!!”

“Well I mean, I didn’t really explode it, I just kinda hit it hard enough that it exploded. Kinda surprised it's still standing.”

“Show me!” Chloe exclaimed, bouncing over to the tree to examine the damage more closely. “Show me show me show me! Show me how to do that, I wanna hit that hard!”

“Careful, you’ll get splinters!” 

“Shoulda thought of that before you exploded a tree!”

Stan hurried after her as fast as he could go without winding himself even more. He leaned extra hard on his cane as he walked, movements just a bit more sluggish. That had taken so much more energy than he had thought it would, even with the cane helping him along and aiding the power. But hey, at least Chloe was excited again. Happy. For now.

That’s all Stan could ever ask for.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything |

@paperprinxe | @tippytappytyping | @chaotic-orphan

[nights-flying-fox]

Deep (Purple) Thoughts (and Realizations)

Chapter 3: Truth and Facts

◇ Click here to read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 ◇

Donnie follows his suspicions, this time he asks some questions and gets some answers.

TW: Mentions of character death. Some self loathing, but not too deep (ha, unintentional pun).

Donnie got up from his chair suddenly, face not revealing any emotions. He turned around and headed to one of the three rooms connected to his lab. While his brothers were talking loudly, Leo and Mikey trying to explain what was going on to Raph, April followed Donnie.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“The files are removed.” He answered without looking, his eyes were focused on the doors.

“What?” She exclaimed.

“I have an idea who has them, though.” Donnie explained.

April looked towards the doors. Realization flashed on her face as she understood.

Before she said anything, Donnie turned to look at her. “It would be better if you stayed here. I want to have a private talk with him.”

“Okay, but if I hear shouting I am getting in.” She stated, stopping in her tracks.

He nodded as he continued walking. Then he opened the doors, entered the room, and closed them.

The room was small, lit with a dim light. It was painted purple, and inside it were many small gadgets mostly suitable for small robots and drones. There were small neon details too. Similar to his lab, except it was completed unlike it. A perfect room for Shelldon.

Shelldon, who had taken the files.

How could Donnie not guess this? Of course, Shelldon would find a way to get through his security system and reach the files! He knew that Shelldon wouldn’t listen to him, he should’ve been more careful!

He saw the ‘bed’ that Shelldon was lying on. “Shelldon, I know you are awake.”

There was no reply.

“Shelldon,” Donnie repeated. “We have to talk.”

Shelldon slowly turned his head towards Donnie, “Oh, uh, hey dude.”

“Did you take the recording files?” He needed this sorted out as soon as possible. “Because it is past midnight and there is no one else that is capable of doing that.”

He didn’t answer at first. Then, “Leo would’ve taken them if I didn’t.”

Donnie raised a brow, “What?”

“I watched the security cameras, he came to the lab yesterday too.” He explained.

Donnie wasn’t expecting that. What was Leo doing in his lab? Was that why he was in his lab tonight, waiting for them? This meant more questions than answers, and Donnie didn’t like this at all. He had to think about that later though, “But you didn’t take them because of him, right?”

He almost missed the nod Shelldon gave. New question: Why was Shelldon so quiet?

He knew the answer but didn’t want it to be true. The simple idea of Shelldon changing as well scared Donnie. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Shelldon to know everything, for him to have the emotional scars from them just like the rest of his family.

Unlike tech, he couldn’t heal scars caused by bad memories.

Yet, he asked the question:

“Did you watch them?”

Another quiet nod. Donnie felt like he was going to throw up again.

“I told you that you couldn’t watch them.” Donnie glared. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but he wasn’t feeling good about this.

“I know.”

“Then why did you watch them?” This didn’t make any sense. (Except it did, because logic explained it all, but Donnie ignored it, just for this once.)

“I was curious.” Shelldon replied.

“I thought you knew that you should listen to me no matter what.” Donnie said.

“I am sorry.” His voice cracked.

Donnie only once had heard his voice crack.

He suddenly stopped talking and looked at Shelldon carefully. Examining the drone, he noticed how he had curled up as if trying to hug and comfort himself. How hurt he looked. Scared. Just like that time a long while ago, when he lost him for the first time against the feral Shredder they fought.

Shelldon looked like a little vulnerable kid.

Oh.

“How… how much of it did you watch?” Donnie asked, now slower.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” Shelldon asked back, confirming Donnie’s fears. He knew about the truth of what happened to him, and what Shredder did to him.

“I didn’t think you needed to know about it.” He explained. “It was bad enough the first time. You didn’t need to relive it again.”

“This doesn’t make it better.” Shelldon said, obviously trying to hide his hurt.

“Yes, it doesn’t.” Donnie admitted. Then he sat next to him. “...I am sorry.” Shelldon shifted to see him better, surprised to hear him apologize. Donnie continued, “I didn’t want you to know any of this. It was bad. Really bad, and this doesn’t make it any better either.” He sighed. He felt like he was rambling, but he was trying his best. Maybe he was doing a bit better than before thanks to Doctor Feelings though. “But I just didn’t want you to get hurt too.”

Now fully turned towards him, Shelldon looked ashamedly to the ground. “I am sorry too. For taking the files… and watching them.” He apologized. “You are right. They are bad.”

Donnie smiled, opening his arms. Shelldon accepted the comfort immediately, hugging him.

After a while, he whispered. “Thanks for kicking Shredder’s butt.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“...I’m sorry for Gram-Gram. I wish I could’ve helped.”

“You did amazing there, Shelldon. She would be proud of you, just like I am.” Donnie said, repeating the words his father had said months ago. He ignored the bittersweet sadness he felt. He wished that they could’ve saved Gram-Gram, but at least she was happy and reunited with her father now. Thanks to Ninpo, they knew this.

“And maybe you are right about the end of the world being not cool too.” Shelldon added.

“Glad we agree.”

“These gumheads were too disgusting.” He said.

“Definitely.”

Another silent moment. Shelldon was quick to fill it though, “Hey Donnie,”

“Yes?” Donnie replied.

“Thank you.”

Donnie leaned back to look at him, confused. “Why?”

“I... uh... for keeping me around.” Shelldon avoided looking at Donnie again.

“What?” Donnie couldn’t understand what Shelldon could mean by these words.

“You could’ve built something better than me. Something stronger and better at protecting, I bet you got awesome ideas after seeing Casey Jr.’s tech too---”

“Wait. What are you talking about?” He held Shelldon so that the drone could see at him.

Shelldon answered with a quiet voice, “I have failed you twice now.”

Donnie’s eyes widened as he understood what was going on. “Shelldon, you did not fail.”

“I did. It is facts, the evidence is in the footages.”

“You know that is not true, right?” Donnie retorted. “Shelldon, you did what you could, and you are still growing, learning, and improving. You don’t need to be replaced. You are my boy, and you did incredible things. I would never ever replace you.” He said every word with determination, genuinely believing everything he told, and hoping Shelldon understood that.

Shelldon looked at him with big eyes, “Do you really mean all of that?”

“I really really mean every word I said.” He confirmed. “Two ‘really’.”

Shelldon seemed to beam at that, hugging Donnie again. He gladly returned the hug.

It could’ve been another comforting silence moment, but the shutting from the lab interrupted all of it. “Not even a half hour and they’re acting like animals. Incredible, yet not surprising.” Donnie huffed as he and Shelldon broke the hug.

Donnie headed to the door, with Shelldon following him. Since he and Shelldon had talked it out, now he had something else to focus on and solve. Why did Leo want the recordings?

[blue-nardo]

"The Attack."

OOC: OKAY MORE PLOT BECAUSE I'M ADDICTED AND IT'S THE ONLY THING I CAN WRITE RN!! In this thrilling installment, we see a fight, Leo and Yuichi, and we sprinkle the seeds for future problems.

Trigger warnings are mentions of injuries, canon typical violence, and mention of character death. Enjoy!

"LEO HELP!"

That's the plea Leo hears from his communicator mere moments after he's been attacked by sentient goop. It had tried to attach itself to his face like some kind of parasite, and maybe he was still having a hard time breathing because of it, but he didn't care as he opened a portal, dragging himself, Donnie, Casey and Venus into the side of the ship where Cass and her team had been looking. 

They see a large beast, with wires connected to it from somewhere high in the room, towering over Mikey, Cass and April while Raph holds it off in his astral form. Leo's first thought is that he has to get Raph out, that he can't let him be taken again, that it hasn't been ten years yet - please don't take his brother from him again - when the beast stops, directing its attention directly on him. 

"Host…"

The wind is knocked from Leo's chest as he's yanked back from his brothers and into the wall. He hears Donnie and Venus shout for him, but can't really focus on anything outside of the ringing in his ears as his vision starts to swim. The stitches in his arms ache something fierce as he tries to weakly pull away the slimy grossness keeping him cocooned. There's the sound of fighting somewhere in front of him, but there's only one word in his head that seems to matter. 

"Prime. Prime. Prime. Prime."

Leo's gasping for air now as his vision goes dark, and he weakly kicks at the air in front of him. There's a roar in the distance, and a bright flash of light, and he's starting to think that maybe he's not getting out of this one either. 

It's creeping in his skin, under his bandages and going straight for the cuts he got from Sister Kraang. He's going limp now, and his finals thoughts are going to be that of how he hopes his family won't hold back, that they'll put him out of his misery if he turns. 

"IKUZO!"

The familiar sound of a sword slicing through air greets his ears, and suddenly gravity has its hold on him again as he's suddenly freed. He hits the ground hard, choking for air as two pairs of arms grab him and pull him up. He tries to blink, tries to listen for the voices calling his name, before finally Leo sees the faces that have been haunting his mind for days. 

"Yuichi? Miyamoto?" he rasps weakly, and he thinks about how that means his larynx is probably bruised. "What… you both have to go, now."

"Not without taking out this thing first," Yuichi growls, and it would be so much more attractive if Leo could actually think right now. 

"What is it?" Miyamoto asks. His grip on Leo is firm and tight, protective, and despite the circumstances, Leo actually feels safe. "Is it a Yokai?"

"Alien," Leo coughs as he tries to stand, using Miyamoto for support. "Kraang monster… Must have been hiding out here… Gotta get the… The herbicide!"

"APRIIIIIL O'NEIL!" He looks up to see April mashing a vial of the stuff onto the giant Mutt, and he watches with relief as it reels back from his family. Thankfully, they all seem to be okay, with Donnie, Casey and Mikey in the air while Raph and the others catch April from her fall. Already he wants back in the fight, to portal and teleport his team to where they need to be. Unfortunately for him, his sense of balance doesn't agree right now, and Miyamoto has to catch him again when he tries to stand. 

"Oh gross," he hears Yuichi cringe. "What is all this stuff?"

"DON'T - " Leo's eyes go wide when he feels Yuichi's hands go to the Kraang slime on his arm. He smacks Yuichi's hand away, pure adrenaline keeping him up as he pulls back from Miyamoto. "Don't let this stuff get on or in you! Trust me, it's not gonna end pretty if it does!"

"Leo, are you okay?!" He hears Mikey call for him, and he turns to see his baby brother jumping down towards him, with way too much fear in his eyes. "Are you hurt??"

He shakes his head, keeping Miyamoto and Yuichi and Mikey at a distance. He can't touch them while this is on them. His eyes dart to the stains on Miyamoto's shirt - he's pretty sure it's offensive to call it that, but he doesn't know the actual name for it… 

"Miyamoto, take off your shirt."

Both Yuichi and Miyamoto turn to him with wide eyes, a clear blush on both of their faces. Mikey seems to follow his line of thinking though when his eyes land on the purple stains of the bright blue fabric. It isn't long before he's gasping and trying to pull the shirt off as well. 

"You can't get this stuff on you!" Mikey insists as Miyamoto lets him pull it off. "Trust us, it always ends ugly!"

"But what about Leo?" Yuichi sounds worried, almost, but Leo's eyes are back on the fight. 

"Use more of the herbicide," he directs Mikey, ignoring the question. "Tell Donnie to go semi-lethal too. Don't let that thing get into the city."

Mikey nods, and his chains begin to glow as he quite literally flings himself back into the fight. Leo rolls his shoulders back, and leans down to grab his swords. He stops though, when Yuichi steps closer, and glances back up at the Usagi brothers. 

They're worried, they both are. He gets it - there's a fight going on, and they've got questions. So he has to make it quick. 

He picks up his swords, giving them a testing twirl before gesturing to the Mutt. "Don't let it cut you, don't get this junk on you. Worry about me after the fight."

"Leonardo-San, are you - "

"Hey, listen we'll have plenty of time to debate if I'm okay or not when we take this thing down, now let's go!"

They win the fight, of course they do. Between all of their mystic powers and Yuichi and Miyamoto joining in, it's all too easy. April's herbicide does most of the work in taking the thing down, and Leo brings them all home once he's sure it's dead. Casey is quick to shove him into a hot shower as he gives himself a full body physical. There aren't any new injuries that he can see, so nothing that the Kraang ooze can infect him with, and he has no way of knowing if the stitches on his arm kept him safe from anything getting in there. 

Removing his bandages, he glares at the bruising spreading out from his cuts and tries not to overthink. It's just purple, it's not pink, he reasons. It could just be bruises from the attack, nothing else. 

He decides that Casey can't know, and neither can his brothers. Not in the event that this is nothing. Right now they need to focus on the mission and keeping the Foot Clan from bringing the Kraang back into this fight. That's the priority, and he can worry about his arm in the meantime.

"So what was all that about?"

He lets out the most undignified shout when he hears Yuichi's voice, whirling around to see him standing in the doorway. He looks smug, like usual, probably pleased with himself that he managed to sneak up on Leo again. 

"What happened to, 'sneaky ninjas are the most dishonorable creatures known to man?'" He rolls his eyes before sitting back down on the toilet seat, rewrapping his arm. "And obviously it was a giant Kraang monster, or did you miss that part?"

Yuichi lets out an annoyed sound, and Leo feels just the tiniest bit of pride in that. As attractive as Yuichi may be, he still likes to piss him off.

"You got covered in that purple ooze and acted like it was a zombie virus thing when you got it off my brother. Who, by the way, you totally embarrassed asking him to take his Yukata off like that. You know he's the biggest prude ever, right?"

Leo rolls his eyes, but doesn't look up, instead focusing on getting his arm wrapped up. "Is that what that's called? Noted. Next time I'll ask him to take off his Yukata, not his shirt."

"Okay, I get it, not the point," Yuichi groans, before deciding that he's suddenly welcome in the bathroom, stepping closer to look at Leo's arm. "You haven't answered my question."

Leo gives him a scrutinizing look, before extending his arm out for Yuichi to finish wrapping. "The reason I did that is because it kind of is a zombie virus thing. Just an alien zombie virus."

"Haha, very funny." There's silence, before Yuichi's ears go straight up. "Wait, you're being serious?"

"Yup," Leo hums, popping the P. 

"Jeez…" Yuichi's hands pause in their movements as he seems to deflate. Leo wants to comment on it, but Yuichi beats him to saying something. "What about you…?"

Leo pauses, tipping his head to the side in confusion. "What about me?"

Yuichi gestures silently to him with his free hand, indicating the lack of purple ooze all over Leo's body. "You were soaked with the stuff, and you were attacked before. How do we know you don't have the zombie alien virus thing?"

It's… A surprisingly good question. Leo had thought Yuichi wouldn't notice, or if he had, wouldn't think to bring it up. The rabbit had already established his own total lack of a brain cell, Leo figured that it would have applied here. 

"Short answer… We don't," he sighs. "But until I know for certain one way or the other… That information stays quiet, okay?"

Yuichi narrows his eyes. "A leader doesn't lie to his team."

"Compartmentalizing. Need to know."

"And your family isn't need to know?"

Leo inhales sharply at that, glaring back at Yuichi. Normally he doesn't really mind their banter, only really reacting because he thinks it's funny. That being said, family was off limits. 

"You don't know the whole story," he huffs at Yuichi. "I want us to focus on stopping the Foot Clan first. If this," he points to his arm, trying not to think about the future that it implies, "gets worse? They're the first to know, and we deal with it then."

"Deal with it, how, exactly?" Yuichi crosses his arms as he glares down at him, and Leo isn't sure if he likes that expression or if it makes him nervous. 

Leo lets out a slow breath, keeping his voice even. "... Casey will know that he can't hold back. If chopping it off doesn't work… I know he'll get them to do what it takes to stop me."

The silence is unnerving, but Leo won't be the one to break it. Yuichi needs to understand that this isn't a game, or a lighthearted mission, not like he wants it to be. In a past life, he might have made a joke to ease the tension, but that was before the Kraang took his brother from him. Before he'd learned how long he'd really had his brothers for in Casey's time. 

Before his heart had stopped beating to stop them. 

Yuichi's eyes go wide as the realization hits him, and for once Leo thinks he can't see the usual judgment or anger that shines in his bright red eyes. The thought of what could be, or what could have been, when it came to his own brother? Leo knew from personal experience that it was a lot to take in. 

"So… What now?"

Leo sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn't have the answer for that yet, but he can think of one on the fly. His mind has always been good at that, but he never learned to recognize that until recently. 

"Now… We make sure that we clean that wreck of anything Kraang related before someone in the city gets into it," he answers. "We can't let the Foot open a portal, and we cannot let anyone get infected. Capiche?"

"Uhhh, what does that mean?"

Leo can't help the smile on his face, even if he wants to. He needs it, he knows he does, because he's got this nagging feeling that pretty soon smiling isn't going to be easy. 

"It means… You're standing over me while I'm stark naked and tenderly bandaging my wounds," he teases, enjoying the blush on Yuichi's face. "I'm flattered, really, but I thought we were done with fake-out make-outs?"

Yuichi throws the bandages in his face, and Leo laughs as the rabbit storms out of the room. "Still waiting for you to make up for that by the way," he calls after him, grinning when he hears what is definitely not a nice string of words in Japanese shouted back at him. 

He inspects the bandages, nodding his approval before closing his eyes again. Rest, that's what he needs to plan their next mission… They've got this, he tries to reason with himself. They'll be okay. 

… First things first though, he thinks as he pulls out his phone. He needs to know more about Prime… and what the Mutt meant by, "Host."

[unicornlovers10]

Here's the Boiling Isles succession rules. I'm using this for all 3 of my AUs that take place on the Boiling Isles, but I'll put it in the context of the Raven Empress AU.

Succession rules (According to Boiling Isles law, extremely simplified):

Emperor's spouse

Emperor's eldest child (or nephew, in this case)

Golden Guard (Tristan, deceased)

Head of the Emperor's Coven (Lilith Clawthorne)

Since Belos wasn't married, the previous Golden Guard was killed (Tristan), and Hunter was 2 when he died. Lilith took over as Hunter's Regent for the first year of her reign. (Also to be clear, Lilith didn't marry Belos. She just happened to be leader of the Emperor's Coven at the time of Belos' death.)

[purple-tello]

what happened to casey?

He... Is no longer with us. We managed to put the Kraang back into the Prison Dimension, and even found a way to destroy the key so they'd be stuck there permanently. Unfortunately, in doing so we erased the timeline Casey was from, and by extension... Casey himself.

[shoot-of-corruption]

(VAMPIRIC STARTER PROMPTS) ❝ if you need to feed, you can bite me. ❞ (I cannot not send in a vampire meme, lmao. xD)

❝ if you need to feed, you can bite me. ❞

Even the laugh that he wrung from himself was underlain with hunger. "You don't know what you are asking for." The hiss escaped him in a low way, like there wasn't any air in his lungs, like all of his inside was empty... but something entered his gaze. Vampiristic entities had a certain bond to permission. Willingness to allow heinous acts was a strengthening of his wants... with every seduction that just grew more impertinent. He truly was a beast and he could be mindless and unable to control his urges.

But what Yuugi did here, bordered to suicide. It was like starving a dog for a week and then dangling a big steak right in front of their eyes.

"You think you can trust me, but that is a false assumption, my friend."

His teeth flickered at the other from between the tan lips, like a sharp warning signal. "You cannot trust a hungry animal. We are all animals of a certain kind, but the hungering, starving ones are the most dangerous. They lose every attachment to morality. All they can think about is food... all they ever want anymore is to quench the thirst. That is all that is able to exist in their mind."

He stepped closer, his fangs still very visible. "For you to stand there and think that I may be able or willing to control the monster that roars for blood is beyond idealistic." He leaned into the other ones face, teeth sinking just below his jaw, close to his jugular, he was still fighting, still wrangling with the last bits of his sanity.

"It is stupid~" The teeth skirted along his jaw, as if the teasing nature of the action was able to subdue the need to feed... like a mosquito bite that would hurt less, when you touched it, instead of outright giving into the urge to itch.

He almost lost the last remnants of his control, when he allowed himself the quick glance at that neck... he could see the vein pulse beneath the skin like a beacon. "Are you really willing to bet your life on it?" The sound of his voice was almost straining now... if Yuugi stepped back, simply trying to evade him now, he wouldn't know what he would do... shove him away, tell him to run, rip him open on the spot, completely tear him apart-

He swallowed audibly.

[mechazilla94]

"I...I can't believe he's gone.." (Ako to Hidan after Sasori's death ;) )

Hidan looked over at Ako and exhaled in frustration. He had never gotten along with the red head. In fact, he hated the puppet. He never could trust people who wore masks all the time. Kakuzu and Ako at least took them off to eat. "I can't believe he was killed by his grandmother. The ways of Jashin prevent kinslaying..." he quipped. He didn't have many morals, but he had never raised a blade to harm a family member, even Kakuzu. He just liked to get a rise out of the old bastard.

[ravenempressau]

I just published Beginning of a New Diary of my story Ascension of a Raven Empress, which is a companion story to Diary of a Raven Empress. It does contain some spoilers for the Canon Timeline, but they're pretty minor. Along with mentions of a character death of a child (Tristan, he's referred to as Philip in this chapter btw. She doesn't know that he changed his name), and grief.

[martyr-inthedark]

Make your Whumpee tired.

Whumpees that have been deprived of sleep by Whumper, so much so that they don't remember how to walk in a straight line and can't figure out whether the recent appearance of little black bugs in their cell are real or a hallucination.

Whumpees that can't get a full night's rest. They doze off, only to be jolted awake by their own anxiety of not knowing when Whumper would come back. Perhaps they are awakened by phlegm-coated coughs induced by their illness. They are awakened by nightmares, or by Caregiver who is worried they may succumb to hypothermia, or by a thunderstorm, or the rough blanket scratching their open wounds, or so on.

Whumpees who pull all nighters to protect their friends or lovers.

Whumpees whose eyes burn when they finally can close their eyes. Whumpees whose muscles twitch, who can't stop yawning no matter how hard they try to stifle it. Whumpees with dark, glassy eyes. Whumpees who are slow to react or have a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Whumpees with throbbing headaches. Whumpees with brain fog and memory loss.

Whumpees who have been on the run and have over exhausted their bodies. Their muscles and joints continue to scream long after its over. Whumpees with extensive blood loss. Whumpees who are malnourished.

Whumpees whose survivor's guilt keeps them awake, wondering what they might have done differently, whether it was all their fault, or why they were the ones to live.

Whumpees whose bodies are in chronic pain or illness and who have to hide it, causing muscle and mental fatigue. They keep going with a smile until they collapse or pass out.

Whumpees who break down in tears, begging to be left alone so they can rest. Whumpees who sob when they are told that the bed in front of them is theirs to use whenever they want.

[stellewriites]

very much inspired by a post i’ll link at the bottom to avoid spoilers

i love putting john price in situations

simon had known price for over a decade, had served under him as his lieutenant for a good portion of it, so he was pretty confident in answering yes when asked if he thought he knew the captain well.

he could acknowledge he wasn’t as close as say laswell may have been, but he knew that price’s wife was not common knowledge around the base either.

he’d pieced it together over the years on missions; catching the odd comment shared over coms; the glint of a ring around his neck; the odd teased mention of her when they sat in the rec room after barely scraping through a tough spot, when price needed the company as well as the silence ghost offered before returning to the real world.

it was how simon knew the sergeants were staying when price let slip about her one day. because he doesn’t let anything slip, wouldn’t, especially about her.

“got anyone at home waiting for you, sir?” gaz asked as he sighed impatiently over the coms, hour three of silently waiting and watching had finally gotten to him.

“i do,” price said simply, not offering any further information. ghost could imagine the amusement tugging at his daft facial hair as price refused to continue without prompting and simon smiled under his mask when he heard johnny scoff next to him before chiming in.

“c’mon sir, give us a wee bit more’n that,” he weedled. “when’d ya meet? is she nice?”

john hummed, the sound low and crackly over the radio in their ears. “met when i moved.”

“oh, a real meet-cute type thing, eh?” gaz teased.

john ignored him. “wouldn’t say she’s nice, soap. she’s more than that. ‘nice’ is your aunt’s new wallpaper; you have permission to shoot me point blank if i start calling her nice.”

“what is she then?” ghost piped up. this was the chattiest john had ever been on the subject and he was going to take advantage.

john went silent for long enough that the three men thought that was it, the end to their sharing session and knowing more about their captain outside of work. simon chewed the inside of his cheek.

“she’s devoted,” john whispered finally before his voice firmed. “heads up, team, movement 2 o’clock. anyone got eyes on the target?”

—

it was months later when she was brought up again, the team thinking. nothing of it until price’s phone pinged in his pocket enough times to pique johnny’s interest as they prepped to leave.

“that the wife, sir?” he asked.

john huffed, didn’t bother checking his phone as he turned and shook his head. “she’s clingy, but she doesn’t bother me when i’m at work.”

“how’d you know?” gaz asked. “could be an emergency.”

“‘n’ how’d you get her to agree tae tha’?” soap followed up quickly, having had issues with his own flings petering out when he was distant and slow to reply.

“been with her long enough now it’s routine,” john said simply. he checked his weapons before heading for the exit. “helo in 5, be air ready.”

—

the mission had gone to shit, and they were stuck hidden in a building that looked like it was 10 seconds away from collapsing under a brisk wind when ghost finally felt his patience snap.

it was no one’s fault, but being stuck in another country with no back up and a target on their backs for an extra three weeks wasn’t ideal and johnny’s insistence on playing cards at every opportunity to keep his idle hands and mind busy combined with gaz’s tinny whistling had made for the perfect scenario to grate on simon’s patience quicker than anything else ever had.

“tell us about her. ya wife,” simon asked, his gaze slipping across to john, watching him pick at his nails. his cuticles were red and raw from four days of agitated fidgeting since they’d ran out of cigars and cigarettes. every so often simon caught him pat his empty pocket before he’d remember and huff heavily through his nose like a bull.

john closed his eyes at the mention of his wife and sighed. he started his description without protest or hesitance. “shes soft spoken. christ, you’d hardly know she was there half the time, she’s so quiet. but she’s firm. stands her ground no matter what,” he chuckled. “don’t think i’ve ever won an argument against her.”

kyle laughed and ghost closed his own eyes, trying to picture what he thought the captain’s wife might look like. pretty certainly, but was she tall, plump, did she have an endearing gap between her front teeth, did she keep her hair short or long?

“she’s a bit of a homebody,” john admitted bashfully, unaware of simon’s drifting thoughts. “but i can’t say i mind it.”

“not wanting to leave the bedroom much when yer back?” johnny joked, hissing when ghost punched his thigh.

john just smiled placidly, eyes still closed. his eyebrows pulled down as he gushed, “god she’s gorgeous in red. wears it every time i come home.”

“lucky bastard,” gaz huffed.

“yeah.” john nodded and finally opened his eyes. “yeah, lucky.”

“you’ll be back with her soon, cap,” gaz reassured him when he saw price swallow thickly.

“thanks, gaz. now who’s taking first watch tonight? soap?”

—

john was quiet on the plane ride home, not unusually so, but ghost noticed the difference all the same.

he was pensive perhaps, worried what his wife would say when he finally got home a month later than scheduled, uncontactable the entire time. ghost could understand to a certain degree that john would have more important things on his mind than what his three subordinates were going to do as soon as they stepped foot on home soil, so he didn’t push when john ignored the few threads of conversation thrown his way by their younger sergeants. instead he nodded when john said a quick goodbye as they all parted ways in the airport.

simon could only assume john was the same all the way home in the cab that dropped him outside of his little three bed house.

he didn’t see however how john hesitated at the door to his home that evening. how he gripped the front door keys tightly in his fist, shook as he stared down at his feet instead of letting his eyes drift and catch on the windows, and felt as though he could crack a tooth from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

he finally opened the door when he thought the neighbours might begin to get worried and stepped inside, flicking on the lights as he went.

it wasn’t until he got to the kitchen that he found her.

stood bare foot, silent, eyes wide and pleading, blood seeping - always seeping. would it ever stop? would the blood ever end? - through her white pyjama top, his top that she’d borrowed for the night, and trickling down her bare legs.

her mouth opened and she visibly struggled for breath, but no sound escaped even as her tongue wagged on the floor of her mouth, lapping at the backs of her teeth as all words escaped her.

he swallowed back bile.

“hello, sweetheart,” he choked out. “sorry i’m late.”

the blood pooled at her feet, the panties she wore were seeped a dark purple from the viscus liquid dying the dark blue material and the shirt stuck to her front. john had remembered loving seeing her like this in a morning, had always thought she looked best in as little clothing as possible.

“i know you hate it when work keeps me busy, but it was unexpected. we were caught—“ a high screech, not dissimilar to that of a whistle that only a dog could hear, pierced through his ears and cut his words short. he curled in and covered his ears, but he knew it would do no good, he should’ve known better than to talk about work around her.

not after what had happened last time he got back late after overtime.

tears prickle at his eyes and the sound abruptly stopped. he’d never questioned why it seemed to be only him that could hear her protests, why his neighbours never mentioned a shrill cry every so often from his home. he had always said she was made for him and that had apparently translated literally into the afterlife.

he looked up at her again - it was best not to ignore her he found. it only made her angry.

“it won’t happen again,” he promised wetly. “i did my best to get back as soon as i could, i promise, sweetheart—“ he choked on his words, biting back a sob. she watched unblinkingly, silent except for the wet squelch of her feet on the laminate.

they both knew he wasn’t apologising for being late this time. he got like this sometimes, when her agonised face and mangled body was too much to bear after a long mission and the guilt bore down like a physical presence.

he couldn’t help but think if he’d gotten home even just an hour earlier he might’ve been able to save her, to have kept her company instead of leaving her on the floor alone and cold, maybe he could have caught the bastards that had hurt her while he was still travelling back from deployment after agreeing to hang back and finish his paperwork there and then instead of emailing it across.

he reached a shaking hand forward and blew out a ragged breath when his hand met nothing but frigid air. but when he brought his hand up to his face he could smell the copper tang of his dead wife’s blood on his skin. the stench unwashable, cloying, but if he concentrated hard enough it ever so faintly smelt like the vanilla perfume she used to wear.

“was telling the lads about you, love,” he forced an empty chuckle as he walked around her to the kettle and went through their usual routine. “think they might’ve fallen a little in love, not that i could blame them.”

he ran a hand over his face and gave himself a moment to let the tears fall as his palm hid his eyes. her silence was the worst part of it all, but he could see the glaring red of her in his peripheral when he dropped his hand to the counter.

it wasn’t pretending his wife was still alive if she was right there at his shoulder, was it?

“looks like i’ll need to grab you some more pg tips, sweetheart,” he said and poured the boiling water into two cups, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his wife. “we’re almost out.”

post link

[anime-villian-irl]

"id let the world burn for you"

"I'd kill for you"

"id die for you"

"I'd sacrifice the world for you"

BORING!

Yawn snore snore. Honk shoo honk shoo.

I got twelve other guys ready to that for me. You already do that. You already destroy the world I would just happen to be there while you did.

The real question is.

Would you save the world for me?

Would you put aside your hatred for humanity and put my love for it Infront? Would you save the world because I love the world? Would you stop killing because I hate killing? Would you find a way to live because I want you alive?

Death and destruction are easy as hell. Do you know how fucking easy it is to kill someone? To blow up a building? Shure security is in the way but if it wasn't there it would be easy as hell.

You'd do the basics Shure. But would you do the hard thing and save the world because I asked you to?

Would you push aside your hatred of everyone but me because I asked you to nicely?

Would you?

[kathaynesart]

TMNT AU COMPETITION - CONTEXT COMICS: COMIC 1 - COMIC 2 - COMIC 3 - COMIC 4 - COMIC 5

Don't mind, Omega. He's just being dramatic. Thank you so much @abbeyofcyn and @thegunnsara for pulling me into this hilarious mashup as well as @kittynomore @tapakah0 @hylwicks and @isaacz for letting their characters be a part of it! Figured I would use this opportunity to do my Replica introduction as well!

The @tmntaucompetition has barely even started and I am already overwhelmed by the amount of asks and support I've received! Thank you everyone! There are so many things I want to respond to, but I just don't have the time!

However I am so excited to get to interact with some of you! I'll be sure to respond to a few more that reference Omega directly when I can (looking at you @intotheelliwoods and @karonkar )!

Also, please don't destroy my asks trying to offer chew toys to Donnie... it's too late. His fate has been sealed. He's in autistic robot hell now. Goodnight sweet prince.

Also also, uh... THAT one image? Don't think about it too hard. :)

[zephyrchama]

MC and Thirteen who doesn't want to do her job as a reaper, so when MC's time comes around they start travelling the world instead.

Another reaper finds them sipping drinks out of coconuts on the beach and asks what they're doing. "We just got a bit lost," Thirteen claims. "My legs hurt so we're taking a break. Relax, I'll properly collect their soul in a little bit."

Ok. Fifty years later the same reaper comes across MC and Thirteen taking selfies in a shopping mall.

Thirteen sticks up for MC once more. "We got lost again. No, don't worry about it. I don't tell you how to do your job, so scram and just let me do mine."

Another hundred years ago by. The same reaper shakes their head and tries to ignore the two familiar faces playing hide and seek around the seating area of a major music festival.

[blue-nardo]

No... No that's not... That's not fair... Guys if this is a prank this isn't FUCKING funny. Where's my son???

[piratefishmama]

Just ONE chance

Stephanie Harrington never intended to be a whole presence online.

She hadn’t even really understood the whole thing at first, it didn’t exist when she was a kid! An if it did it sure as hell wasn’t in every nook and cranny of the globe like it now seemed to be. Kids with iPads, hands glued to phones, six year olds who simply had to have the latest Apple thing.

It was all Dustin’s idea. King of the Gadget. Overseer of all things technology. Gargantuan nerd. Stevie’s little brother.

Not biologically, Claudia, Dustin’s mother had basically adopted Stevie when her own parents had tragically lost control of the wheel during a storm and wrapped their car around a tree back when Stevie was still a teenager. Back when Stevie was still Dustin’s regular babysitter and very suddenly found herself alone having been babysitting when the news reached her.

They’d been coming back from a business trip that she hadn’t been able to go with them on because of school. They’d been so close to home. She’d heard the sirens. They’d been that close.

It was fine though, in one fell swoop, yes she lost her parents, but she gained Claudia, and Dustin, and that was enough, because she sure as hell didn’t get anything else from them. It was all swallowed up, snatched away by her parents business partners because people are sharks and she just… wasn’t prepared to fight them on any of it, especially not when her parents had stupidly left her without a will.

Apparently they believed they’d live forever! The money vanished, the house was sold, she was left with nothing.

With growing up in the Henderson house, came choices, some great, some really stupid, and some that’d led to the very happy accident of Rosie.

To be fair to herself, she’d been in quite a long term relationship at that point! It was a happy one too! She’d thought he’d be it. Sure he’d been a lot rough around the edges, at the start, it’d been a shame cycle at the beginning since he was in fact, a colossal prick, but he was also the hottest guy she’d ever seen. Like, unfairly attractive considering his personality, and he knew exactly how to touch her to melt her icy resolve into a watery mess.

But once he’d gotten away from his dipshit of a father, his step mother dragging him with her when she escaped the man too, once Stevie had laid down the law of how little of the bullshit he’d learned from said father she’d personally tolerate before he’d get a boot out the door, he’d come around.

The racism had stopped immediately. The attitude had ebbed bit by bit as feelings set in, and he’d become a regular ol handsome teddy bear, he’d allowed himself to soften after he’d escaped the only reason he’d had to protect himself.

He’d even started getting along with his step sister, one of Dustin’s friends.

Then stupidity happened when they ran out of condoms, her cycles stopped, and three months in, two drunk idiots in a pickup ran a stoplight while he was getting her some ice cream. Doctors said he probably hadn’t felt a thing.

Rosie came along, a beautiful little thing, had her dad’s soft cheeks, his stormy eyes, thick dark lashes and soft curls, but she took after Stevie in everything else.

Stevie didn’t date after that. A personal choice really. She’d lost her parents, lost her love, and now she had a little girl to focus on, she was done. She felt herself complete! So what if she was still in her mid-twenties. Life had dealt her a hand, she was going to run with it.

Rosie would always come first, and she didn’t like explaining where Rosies father was, she didn’t like the look of pity on people’s faces, the apologies, the rinse and repeat cycle, and so she just. Didn’t bother!

It was easier! She had Rosie, she had her adoptive mother, she had Dustin, she had Billy’s sister Max and her other half Lucas, she had Susan, she had Robin, her co-worker and platonic soulmate from that dumb job at the mall she’d picked up to help Claudia with the bills, she had a whole support network, and she was fine.

Soon Rosie was in preschool, and then middle school, and the internet became a household thing, houses had computers, kids had phones, then smartphones, laptops, tablets, and suddenly the internet was everywhere and everyone had to be on it.

So there she was now. Mid-thirties, with a little girl, and a house paid for by her little brother.

Dustin had struck gold with a job at NASA, he’d put the downpayment on a little two bed house with a cute picket fence lined garden for her when Rosie was born without consulting her, just did it and “SURPRISE STEVIE, now get the hell out of mom’s basement, Jesus Christ.” Kept paying until it was all hers, and that was that… until he came round with computers and gadgets and then she had the internet because Rosie would need it for school because while libraries were awesome he’d had to suffer the five books at a time, Dustin rule one too many times and the internet had UNLIMITED books.

And now Stevie had a smart phone, and apps, and Instagram was fun! Doomscrolling the FYP took up chunks of her days off work while Rosie was at school! She never intended to be a name on there. She’d heard that people could become known for stuff, go viral or whatever.

She never intended to do that. She was a mother. Not even a hot young mom either. She was in her thirties! She remembered when the world didn’t have internet, she was there.

She posted work out videos, never having lost the competitive streak she’d always had as a teenager, sports were her thing back in high school, Gymnastics specifically, which led into cheering. She’d done some competition once with the team but nothing huge, she was fit, healthy, and the subject of many a thirst comment that she pointedly ignored.

She’d posted the occasional rant about Sally the PTA bitch with the self-proclaimed “best potato salad in the State” while doing her morning makeup, still never paying much mind to the comments section, the little rapidly climbing number that signalled followers, or the occasional DM from brands wanting to ‘collab’.

She didn’t care for that, she just wanted to post her little videos in peace. In retrospect, if peace was what she wanted, the lunch trend… probably wasn’t the best one to pick up. It was just a trend though! She’d seen a few moms doing it! Just posting little harmless videos online of what they’d pack their kids for lunch every day!

Harmless, fun! She loved making Rosies lunches, she saw no harm in sharing the fun!

They were always affordable, packed with healthy options, and creative too! She tried her hand at sushi, Rosie hated it, Robin loved it, so Robin got the sushi rolls in her lunches instead, picked up every morning when she grabbed Rosie on the way into work, they were both going to the same place after all, Robin taking on the music teacher role at the Middle school Rosie attended.

She tried noodle jars, cool wraps, made shapes and fun little animals out of fruit, she got creative, but they were all very cookie cutter videos, they all had the same vibe, similar content, it was something to fill her free time that she enjoyed so never in a million years would she have ever predicted that ONE of them, would cause so much chaos.

It started with the beeping.

The incessant pings sometime in the early hours of the morning. Notifications on her phone going off one after the other until she was forced to sit up, bleary eyed, and stare with squinted eyes at the far too bright screen of her phone, then she silenced it and went back to sleep.

With the chaos of the morning routines, getting Rosie up, washed, dressed, packed up for school, and out the door, she didn’t think about the incessant little beeping she’d silenced. It was a distant memory buried under the fog of a heavy sleep and continued to be a distant memory right up until Dustin appeared at her doorstep at around one in the afternoon midway through her afternoon workout, ruffled, stressed, flustered, and frankly just a little too sweaty.

He bypassed all niceties, as usual, bulldozing straight to the point, he pinpointed her phone, which sat comfortably on the countertop, seemingly oh so innocent, grabbed it, brandished it up as if to highlight its very existence and just “Woman, do you LOOK, AT YOUR PHONE?!”

Now, Stevie was not in the business of accepting a tone like that, especially not from her little brother. No matter how much he’d shelled out for the house, the attitude had to go. “Tone problem you little shit, fix it now or get the fuck out of this house and try again later.”

To his credit, he took a breath, and fixed it “Sorry, I’m sorry, but—look! Look at it, please, for the love of Christ, the internet is freaking out.”

“What?”

“Your video yesterday! The one with the like… teddy bear thing you did? With the rice an the—”

“Rosies lunch?”

“Yeah! Have you seen the comments on it?” Stevie rolled her eyes and went about picking up her things, workout sufficiently disrupted, she wouldn’t be able to pick that pace back up now. “Stevie?”

“You know I don’t look at those, people get weird on the internet, it’s like it gives weirdos the perfect place to be their weirdest selves and not in a good way.” She’d looked at them once, curiosity had gotten the better of her once upon a time and wound up having to ask Max what ‘OF?’ meant. She’d taken the win, let it momentarily boost her self-confidence, and decided to never look again. She was done with all that.

“Stevie, this time… one of those weirdos, is famous.” Since it was the age of the internet, Stevie regarded him with a look of disinterest, ‘famous’ could be anything, it could be some dweeb behind a computer screaming obscenities at a mic hooked up to some ridiculously overpriced gaming PC for likes. It could be a podcast bro with half a brain cell kicking its long since dead other half, it could be—“rockstar famous.” Dustin clarified. “One of the guys from that band I like? Corroded Coffin, they just—” he swiped the phone, letting out a soft scoff as the screen just flicked to life, no security pin to be seen of course, no matter, he’d probably berate later, he had a video to find and—“Ah-hah! Look!” and a phone to once again shove into his big sister’s face.

“That’s not even my video!”

“I know! They took the comment down already, but it’s EVERYWHERE, look!” Someone had screenshots. It wasn’t just one video covering it, Dustin scrolled, another popped up soon after, someone getting a little too excited about what was probably the most unfortunate of accidents.

“Don’t they have like… I dunno, people running their accounts? A person? Maybe their internet person just forgot to log out of that account?”

“No! Eddie runs it! The guitarist? Eddie Munson, he usually runs it all himself so everyone thinks it’s him, AND—AND LOOK!” Dustin clicked on the Corroded Coffin’s account, then tapped on the most recent post. Just a big black square, with the word ‘Whoops’ in big bold white lettering, captioned ‘I regret nothing. Just ONE chance, sweetheart, just one.’ With a little prayer hands emoji. “He’s ASKING you out!”

“He’s being a freak on the internet” hands found her hips, the classic mom pose. Immovable, stubborn.

“He’s always a freak! But he’s really cool! He does like, Make A Wish stuff, and—and visits children’s hospitals dressed up like fantasy characters, and he runs DnD things on the account every few months an he’s just REALLY cool, I mean they’re all really cool but Eddie is really cool maybe—maybe you could—”

“Upend my life, Rosie’s life, for a guy I don’t know, who has a job that takes him all over the world, who probably has his pick of whoever the hell he wants so what exactly could I bring to the table to keep him around? I’m done with all that shit, Dusty… I had my time, I have Rosie, I have everything I need. What makes you think I’d even like him?”

“You liked Billy.”

“Get out.”

“No, wait, not like that, I mean, they’re the same! Well, okay, not the same, Eddie didn’t start out a giant prick an he’s never been racist, but they’re sorta similar, similar music tastes, shit fathers, he’s rough round the edges, lil scary looking sometimes but he’s just a big softie when you get past the whole, scary dog thing. Eddie’s like… if Billy never had a shit dad. I just think that maybe… if you looked him up, maybe you’d… I dunno, you’d like him… maybe he’d be your kind of guy… maybe you could finally find someone who appreciates you… you’re not supposed to be on your own, Stevie.”

“Yeah well, I’m not. I have Rosie, and Robin, an you guys… an y’know. Bob.”

“Bob?” One of her patented looks told him all he needed to know, he jerked back in revulsion “ew! God! Fine, could you just! I dunno, look him up or something? Just think about it, I swear he’s really cool an I’d—”

“You’d love free tickets to their next concert.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Alright then, nice to see you Dustin. Always a pleasure to have you round, please get the hell out of my house.” 

“UggGGGGGHHHHH, STEVIIIIEEE!!!”

“Uggghh, DUSTIIIIN! You interrupted my work out for internet pervert nonsense.” She began shooing him toward the door “Shoo, shoo. I have a family sized bar of chocolate to work off my hips before it gets stuck there.”

“He’d love your hips! With the addition of chocolate bars or not!”

“Weird! Out!” Out the door he went, it closed behind him.

That of course didn’t stop him from yelling through the door, “Just look him up!! I promise you won’t regret it!” But she mostly ignored him, until he went away.

Mostly because… Dustin never spoke up in favour of men before. He’d even gone through a period of hinting at maybe just switching sides and dating Robin when he found out Robin was a lesbian, but both women had promptly shut that down every single time he tried bringing it up.

He wasn’t a huge fan of men.

He’d been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d had a strong female role model in Stevie who’d pushed through every trauma life had thrown at her, he had Robin, he had Max, Jane, Erica, he had Nancy his friend Mike’s older sister, one of his friends had also been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d been surrounded by strong women his entire life with only one real solid male figure.

And that was his middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. Which was kind of sad when you thought about it.

For him to really vouch for a man, it meant something! It wasn’t something to ignore, even if every instinct Stevie had told her to just. Leave it. What kind of man could a rockstar lifestyle have created. What kind of red flags could Eddie Munson be hiding that Dustin couldn’t (or didn’t want to) see.

Did he really even mean it?

Was it actually Eddie, and not someone else from the band? Would she be seen as foolish for even entertaining the thought? It wasn’t like she’d ever paid attention to the bands Dustin liked, so surely nobody would see her as a weird fan for thinking about it, right? She didn’t even approach him!

He approached her!

Shit like that didn’t just happen though. Or did it? Could it? Was she stupid to even entertain the thought?

Before she knew it, it was time to pick Rosie up, and she hadn’t even finished her work out. it was fine, her hips could handle a chocolate bar. For now. Its days were numbered.

[lilybug-02]

Weird Route...

Spoilers for CT Weird Route below.

Please check tags for anything triggering ❤️

Afterlife...

........

This is not cannon, as the weird route is finished and it will not be added upon. But.......I often find myself wanting to draw for it. So here you are...

The weird route ends abruptly and without art for a reason. I wanted to make it painfully obvious that as YOU continue the route/story YOU stop getting anything out of it. You're only hurting the characters, and by the end, there's nothing left to do except start over.

I had thought of Asriel discovering Chara...well, dead. But I think that would have been too much for the scene. I didn't want to get any more depressing than it already was.

tbh I only hope that I can make an ending even half as good as this one. I still think about it often and I'm proud of the amount of work I put into it.