#sounds of silence fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iriel3000 · 7 months

Text

#000000

Summary: #000000 - Black, the absence of any color on a screen. Part 1 of 3

Whumptober day 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” | Radio Silence

Natasha whump, light whump, emotional whump

AN: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READ, LIKED OR/AND COMMENTED ON Hurry, She Needs You. I appreciate your support so much !!💘💘💘

“Natasha.”

Steve was surprised to see her jerk at the sound of his voice. Rarely did anyone sneak up on the Black Widow.

Dressed in plain, black leggings and a purple sweatshirt that looked too big to be hers, Natasha sat with her knees up on the ledge of the Tower roof. Worry lines creased her forehead and the dark circles under her eyes stood out against her pale skin.

Natasha Romanov was the most determined, self assured person Steve knew, but right now, she looked...lost.

“I’m sorry, Nat, we haven't heard anything. I just came to check on you.” He sat down beside her, hating that he didn't have better news.

Seventy-two hours had passed since Hawkeye's last check-in. No word, no cryptic message, no ransom from the enemy. His comms were dead and their radar hadn’t been able to detect him or the signature from his arrows.

Steve held out an apple. Natasha refused.

“Name one thing you've eaten in the last two days.”

Reluctantly, she accepted it. But instead of taking a bite, Natasha drew her arm back and whipped the apple across to the opposite rooftop.

“They put a damper on me. I'm not allowed to leave.”

“I know.” Steve said.

"Word travels fast."

“I'm the one who gave the order.”

“What?!” She leapt to her feet. “How could you?”

Steve stood with his hand up.

“I would do the same to him if it were you. We sent a recovery team, Natasha. They will find him.”

“If it was Bucky, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I would be stealing a fucking jet for you!” She paced back and forth, glaring at him as if he betrayed her. "They don't know what they're doing. They don't know how he operates, or where his safe houses are. I’m his partner, I can find him.”

"Nat..."

Steve's phone chimed.

He hid the caller id, doing his best to put on a neutral expression.

"Rogers."

Natasha watched his face for the tiniest of clues.

"I understand. We'll be right down." He hung up.

"Fury?"

"Maria, she needs us downstairs."

"Why?"

"She'll explain when we meet her."

"Is it about Clint?"

"We need to go, Nat."

"Don’t. Don't do that to me, Rogers. What happened? Where's my partner?"

Steve had trouble meeting her eyes.

"Tell me what happened to my husband!"

part 2 cont'd on day 11

#whumptober2023 #lyric #no. 2 #I paced around for hours on empty I jumped at the slightest of sounds #radio silence #the avengers #clintasha #fic #emotional whump #hawkeye #black widow #steve rogers

33 notes · View notes

dayurno · 1 year

Note

"i’m currently working on a kandreil post-baltimore fic where kevin goes fully nonverbal" do you know what reading those words has done to me. i cannot sleep thinking about nonverbal kevin i truly cannot

ME TOO ME TOO ME TOOOOOOO.;....;;;; my idea for it was that after baltimore abby told him to avoid talking for a few days to be safe and kevin just. kept going. at first it was two days, then it was five, then it was seven, until abby realizes he's still not speaking and tells him it's at a point where it'll be more detrimental if he doesn't try doing it again

and i think kevin does try! but it's like. well. i think when he opens his mouth he is overcome with fear and the idea of saying the wrong thing; his one protective stance against riko was to never say anything (you can't hurt someone for something they never said), but it'd still get him hurt nonetheless, and then with andrew.......... everything went downhill as soon as kevin opened his mouth.... so the first time he tries to talk again after that break feels absolutely terrifying!!!! kevin is just there, mouth open, trying very hard to get any words out and abby is waiting but he just can't seem to say anything. can't seem to make any noise at all

this is very interesting to me as a concept!!! i think its a very understandable fear, and a consequence most people wouldn't know what to do with, kevin included. he's just... ahghg.... kevin.... he didn't have it in himself to go with grace you see :( one of this fics main plot points is that some of the other foxes think kevin's silence isn't a psychological thing, and they (andrew included) believe kevin's vocal cords have been permanently damaged, so no one is having even the slightest bit of fun really. in fact i think this might be my most pathetic andrew yet because he's really going through it

SO YEAH UM I LOVE THIS FIC YOU SEE.... i think its just so interesting and such a sad but crushingly realistic concept...... so much of kevin's character is centered around talking and communicating and to imagine a version of him that just. can't. is very ahhh........ plus i think he's cute signing all angry. but that's more personal if anything!

#andrew: and i still talk to you but now im screaming at the skyyyyy #SO YOU SEE.;.... so you understand....#AND ALSO #kevin: i will be married to silence the gentleman won't say a word #ive never heard silence quite this loud... etc....#i love you kevin day we're getting you to therapy. and to asl classes #kevin #kandrew #asks #my writing #wips have been hilarious lately ive been alternating between this sad little thing and kandreil d/s fic #it sounds more fun cause it is.... i love you kevin day. unfortunately ill write you as a mommy dom tho

52 notes · View notes

thatbrightblueshine · 1 month

Text

i'm fucking crying you guys i never wanted mail sport to actually be a reliable source more in my life.

#rambles #michael just sat there in silence probably #sounds like smth that happens in one of my fics

7 notes · View notes

thebahwrites · 1 year

Text

the sound of silence (on ao3)

Coming home from the hospital feels like a balm for Tom’s tired soul. Exhausted doesn’t begin to cover how he feels but there’s just something about falling asleep on his own bed again after a week of nurses invading his room at every hour of the day, of flavorless varied broths that all virtually tasted like nothing and of Maverick sleeping curled up into a lumpy couch looking like an injured animal and then arguing with Bradley about going home or not.

His days had never been this quiet before, between Maverick and Bradley, he never seemed to get a minute of silence. And for as much as Iceman thought he was tired of the noise, the silence was much, much worse. It got on his nerves, now. No loud music from anywhere in the house, no arguing, no bantering, no random stupidities thrown into the wind.

Invited it like a vampire into the house, sucking all life and joy and brightness and music from his days.

Iceman’s family learns ASL because they love him. for @sevenall

#abt: my works #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #ron slider kerner #jake hangman seresin #iceman x maverick #top gun 86 #//no one asks me for these aesthetics bUT I DON'T CARE #//I like making em #abt: sound of silence

79 notes · View notes

vimbry · 2 years

Text

edgeworth-maya friendship is the best thing that never actually happened in the series. but they are. to me. intergenerational different as night and day very weird little besties.

I want her to talk him into watching a steel samurai marathon together. it sends edgeworth into a complete conflict of “specific forms of socialising are difficult at the best of times, let alone solely with one of wright’s young peers” and “oh, I REALLY want to watch and talk about this subject I deeply enjoy with someone”. maya knows this. she knows she’s making a good offer, she’s got him in her grasp. she’s enjoying that a little, too. but mostly she just wants to watch steel samurai.

#ace attorney #oh ik about the discord fic btw!#and not to sound pretentious but night and day eventually meet together in twilight and That is what their shared interests and humour lie!#they also enjoy bullying phoenix. that's also a very fun thing for them to do.#it'd be at his place he's not going over to the wright offices for any of this #maya fortunately fills the silence with openly marvelling at all the fancy frills of his apartment #(like. figuratively as in decor/tech and other conveniences but probably literally too)#(does he live in an apartment? I've just sort of assumed he would)#she is not subtle with her curiosity and edgeworth hasn't really shaken off his von karma-influence of being more than happy to preen abt it #absolute Glee that rises on both of their faces when they realise they dislike the same aspects of expanded material/choices/etc #personal experience with cases obv gets brought up as well #(maya through a mouthful of snacks pointing at the screen) ''you ever think about how like that's mr will powers in there'' ''I try not to''#INTER. inter is what I meant not multi

159 notes · View notes

callsign-bunnie · 11 months

Text

The Horror Of Silence And Sound - Pilot

At the age of 13, Rodolfo Parra was taken and locked away for five years, only rescued at the age of 18 by his bestfriend/childhood sweetheart Alejandro Vargas. Now, he's 21 and he's having to learn what it's like to function in society. It's not easy when everyone seems to just expect you to get it out of nowhere.

Well, it also doesn't help that Rodolfo's a medium, one who has the sight and therefore has special insight into the "other" plane of existence. For instance, he can see Alejandro's other features, his demonic ones. And... well, the other plane of existence has decided it needs his help.

Whatever, it's time to play Jennifer Love Hewitt or... something. Or, you know, the things could just leave him alone.

TW: Rape, Abuse, Suicide, Discussions around suicide, Trafficking, Self Harm, Dark Humor, Destructive eating habits, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Rodolfo knew that the next day would mark 5 years since he was taken. And, it would mark his birthday. His 18th birthday, in fact. The Man had taken him on his 13th and he’d been in his basement ever since.

He dreaded his birthday. He knew what would happen. The man would come downstairs with a cake and then he would rape Rodolfo. Rodolfo had long since stopped skirting around the words. The Man wanted him to pretend what he did was “making love” but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all.

Rodolfo didn’t feel loved by the Man. He felt brutalized. He was being raped. Oh well, the cake usually tasted good and the Man was usually a lot more gentle since it was his birthday. Besides, the Man had been excited for Rodolfo’s 18th birthday. Rodolfo didn’t know why. He had his ideas and… well, he couldn’t say he didn’t welcome them.

He was exhausted. He was ready to die. If the Man decided it was his time, then fine. It was his time.

He tensed as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, quickly going back to washing dishes. The basement he lived in was basically like a one bedroom apartment. He had a fair amount of freedom as long as he bent to the Man’s every will. The Man would give him little gifts, too, if he behaved. They were pretty nice.

He knew the Man was doing all of this to make Rodolfo have stockholm. Why else would he? He wanted Rodolfo to never leave him. He did other “sweet” things. Like, Rodolfo had done all of his schooling. Beyond even a senior in high school. In fact, he was working on college courses right now.

Rodolfo had chores, though. So many. The basement had to be kept spotless. Rodolfo had to be kept spotless. He had to do anything the Man wanted him to do, when the Man wanted him to. If he didn’t, he’d be punished. Usually it was just being beat, but… the Man had done other things.

Made him stand naked while repeatedly getting doused in water for hours, dunked his head in a tub of water over and over. Things like that. Rodolfo did his best to keep his chores done and do whatever the Man wanted.

Footsteps neared and then hands were touching his waist. “Finally 18…” The Man’s rough voice came from behind him. He was a smoker and his voice reflected that. As did the suffocating smell of cigarettes.

Rodolfo closed his eyes, continuing to scrub at the pan he’d used to cook dinner the night before.

“I’m so excited for tomorrow.” The Man continued, reaching up and brushing his fingers over Rodolfo’s jaw. “Do you want to know why?”

Rodolfo hesitated before nodding.

The Man chuckled. “I knew you would. You’re such a curious boy, you always have been.” He sighed and then he was taking Rodolfo’s hand. A ring was slipped onto his left ring finger a moment later and he tried to focus on being able to breathe. That was his 18th birthday gift. A promise of eternity to him. “Do you like it?”

It was silver with a white diamond in it. Simple. Rodolfo didn’t like it at all. But, he smiled and nodded, pretending he did. “Good.” The Man kissed the back of his neck, wet and sloppy as always. “I think I’ll get you a dishwasher.”

Rodolfo nodded again, unable to help staring at the ring on his hand. He was trying to keep from shaking, he knew that would upset the Man, but he couldn’t help it. Tears filled his eyes as the weight of what was going to happen settled in. He was going to be stuck. “You fucking lied.” The Man growled and Rodolfo quickly shook his head. “Yes you did. You’re not happy with this at all.”

Rodolfo turned to him, pleading. He shook his head again, trying to show that he was happy. He needed the Man to believe that, but it was clear that the man didn’t. He only glared at Rodolfo. “You fucking whore. What more do I have to give you? You have everything you could want, but you’re not happy with me??”

Rodolfo whimpered as his hair was grabbed, his head yanked back, and instinctively he reached up to stop him. Bad move. The worst move. Because a moment later, his head was being shoved into the sink, into the soapy dish water. He thrashed, panicking too hard to hold his breath.

Only a moment later his head was pulled up and he panted, but he kept his hands by his side. “Look at me.”

Rodolfo coughed but did as told, unable to stop the stream of tears down his face. “I could be killing you. Instead, I’m marrying you. An act of love.” The Man’s face softened. “Doesn’t that make you happy? Why don’t you love me back?”

“I…” Rodolfo wheezed. “I love you… I love you so much…”

“Liar.” The Man sighed. “But you will. One day.” He shoved Rodolfo down. Rodolfo quickly caught himself before he hit his head on the cabinet, landing on the floor. The Man left him alone, after that, and went upstairs.

Rodolfo broke down into sobs, covering his face and pulling his knees up to his chest. He couldn’t do an eternity of this… Not of this. He hit at his head, sobbing as hard as his body would allow him to.

Rodolfo’s birthday. September 13th. The beginning of hell. That’s what his heart had decided it was. He wanted so badly to just end it all but the Man had been smart the first time Rodolfo had tried and got rid of everything that could. Sure, there were knives, but they were so blunt they barely could cut through the meats he used to cook.

The Man had assured him the night before that he would order dinner so Rodolfo didn’t have to work on his birthday. And his birthday was a day of no chores, either. So, he didn’t even really feel like getting out of bed. But, he had to. Had to pretend he was happy on his birthday.

He took his time getting up, though. When he finally did, he was unsurprised to see the basement had been decorated for his birthday. Orange streamers were everywhere, along with orange balloons. Orange was the Man’s favorite color. Not Rodolfo’s. But, he’d never reveal that.

It took Rodolfo a moment to acknowledge the other man in the basement, but it had him jerking back, immediately, hiding in his room. He panicked. The Man had brought friends to abuse him, before, but never had he just left them there while he was gone.

Rodolfo peeked out, seeing the other man was now looking in his direction. An expression of shock was on the man’s face as he stared at Rodolfo, but Rodolfo’s eye was caught by curled horns around his head, which were black and slightly caught the light, but not much. Not enough to shine. The man’s eyes caught Rodolfo’s attention next. He was clearly shocked, but his eyes were black. “Rodolfo?” The man asked, starting to approach.

Rodolfo panicked and jerked back again, going into the room. Oh no, oh no. He knew his name! Fuck! Rodolfo tried to look around for somewhere to hide, unsure if this was some test from the Man or not. He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it.

“No, no.” The man was suddenly in front of Rodolfo, touching him. Rodolfo freaked out, trying to back up, but the man only grabbed him. “Rudy! Stop! Look, it’s me! It’s me. It’s Alejandro.”

Rodolfo paused, the name familiar. Alejandro? Ale…jandro… He looked up at the man’s face, frowning and trying to put his features together.

Hi! I’m Alejandro!

Woah, what are you??

You can see those?!

Alejandro… Relief flooded his chest. How was he there?? Well, no, Rodolfo knew that, didn’t he? Alejandro could… well, Alejandro called it flicking. It was basically like teleporting, but a lot more complicated, apparently. “There… yes… It’s me…” Alejandro softened, cupping Rodolfo’s face. “Oh god… You’re so… you’re so tiny…”

Rodolfo couldn’t help laughing. He fell forward and hugged Alejandro, before breaking into sobs. Alejandro was here! Wait, no, that wasn’t good! The Man would find out, he’d kill Alejandro! He jerked away, suddenly shaking his head. Alejandro needed to leave. He started to shove Alejandro at the door before freezing as he heard the basement door unlocking.

“Rudy, what are you-” Rodolfo covered Alejandro’s mouth and shoved him to the closet, needing him to hide.

“Rodolfo! Who’s with you?!” The Man called and Rodolfo could hear him storming to the bedroom. Rodolfo quickly shoved Alejandro into the closet, closing it and turning around right as the Man came in. “I heard someone else’s voice.” The Man accused.

Rodolfo quickly shook his head, smiling. He did his best to appear excited, putting his hands out for a hug. This wouldn’t be suspicious, Rodolfo often had on his birthdays. The Man narrowed his eyes before sighing and moving forward, kissing Rodolfo’s cheek and then wrapping his arm around him, guiding him to the living room. “Happy Birthday, Rodolfo.”

Rodolfo nodded his thanks and sat on the couch, watching the Man sit and take his hands. “I have all of the papers so all we have to do is sign them. I have a friend who’s going to file it for us and then everything will be official. Aren’t you excited?”

Rodolfo quickly nodded, trying to show he’d had a change of heart. He was so excited! He had to be! He rubbed his eyes and curled up to the Man, nuzzling him.

“I’m glad you came around.” The Man nodded. “Makes me so happy. You’re going to be such a pretty little love, aren’t you? So behaved.”

Rodolfo nodded. He would be. He always was. The Man touched his face and then he was kissing Rodolfo and Rodolfo had to swallow his gags, tasting alcohol and cigarettes and days old food. It was brief, thankfully, and then the Man was standing, leaving back to the upstairs.

Alejandro was out of Rodolfo’s bedroom a moment later. “We’re leaving.” He held out his hand.

Rodolfo frowned, looking at Alejandro’s hand. But Alejandro couldn’t flick other people? Just himself. However, still, he took it, and then Alejandro pulled him to the basement door. Rodolfo panicked and shook his head, starting to try to jerk back from Alejandro. No, no! No they’d be caught!

Alejandro didn’t let him get away and soon he was being picked up. “I’m sorry, but you’re not staying here.”

Rodolfo beat at his chest, shaking his head. No! No! No! He tried to scream but Alejandro covered his mouth. A moment later, he was freezing in pure terror as the Man’s voice rang through his head.

“Who the fuck are you?! Put him down?!”

“Over my dead body, you old fat fuck!” Alejandro switched to holding Rodolfo with one arm.

“I’ll kill you, boy!”

“You can fucking try, but I haven’t even succeeded at that, so take your best fucking shot!” Alejandro let Rodolfo’s feet touch the ground, but his arm around him was firm. Rodolfo was able to see, and he saw that Alejandro had a switchblade and the Man had a gun. Rodolfo started to cry, terrified. He didn’t want the Man to kill Alejandro! He didn’t want that. “Shh… Rudy… It’s okay…” Alejandro murmured, holding Rodolfo close.

The Man shook his head and then he pulled the trigger. “Alejandro!” Rodolfo screamed, but Alejandro didn’t even flinch. He just started up the stairs, his hand reaching up and then he was slamming the Man against the wall.

“What… the fuck are you?!” The man wheezed.

Alejandro laughed, shaking his head. “Your worst fucking nightmare.” He moved and then shoved the Man down the stairs before suddenly yanking Rodolfo before he could see the damage. Alejandro reached down, grabbed, and then yanked Rodolfo out the door and they were taking off down the street. Rodolfo didn’t look back, anyway, running with Alejandro and feeling horrible for doubting him in the first place.

I've been working on this for a while... Hehe Chapter names are themed like episodes, but the way

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

#the horror of silence and sound cod fic #call of duty #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas #aledolfo #alejandro x rodolfo #rodolfo cod #alejandro cod #rodolfo x alejandro #alejandro vargas x rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x alejandro vargas #i need to stress that if this does bad #i will break down sobbing #queue for dinner again hunny?

24 notes · View notes

snickerdoodlles · 4 days

Text

there's a point at which someone's fear of being a dick wraps back around to them just being a dick anyways

#im side-eyeing those who reblogged my post on ethnocentrism and missed the point #but im also thinking about the tags i saw on being too scared to comment on fic #the first is being ~too scared~ to write cultures other than their own #(1. my point was people should be learning *as they watch the show* not just when they write #2. i just. jfC. stop saying youre too scared to *try* to write from another culture/POV different from your own as tho its a *good* thing)#the second is just annoying/frustrating because being too scared to participate in community is how community's die #i dont want to be dismissive of cancel culture because i do know the stories and there is always indv cases of a person ready to be a dick #but like. its just *not* a thing most people have to be worried about. very likely you're just not big enough to have that concern.#anxiety's no joke but like. u dont just accept the anxiety as the excuse. you have to challenge it. i've been there but u cant feed it.#and i dont want to sound dismissive of that anxiety but im really frustrated with seeing people throw that excuse around #without considering how their fear-based attitudes/actions come off in turn #such as not showing fandom creatives any appreciation for fear of saying the ~wrong~ thing #which comes off as creatives' stuff seeming to be ignored completely or otherwise very discouraging silence #when the only rule for tags/comments is to treat others the way you wish to be treated and apologize if you accidentally tread a toe #and being more worried about accidentally stepping on a theoretical persons toe than interested in showing actual people gratitude #like? pretty sure im not the only one side-eyeing that like ''have u really considered this feeling/logic????''#again: its not saying that anxiety isnt a dick or easy to dismiss but i am saying maybe challenge it or at least reflect on it #i just #blahh #the commenting thing is way more mild than the other but tags arent for that conversation and i need a much better brain space for that one

5 notes · View notes

quietwingsinthesky · 21 days

Text

THE PEOPLE WILL NEVER KNOW ABOUT THAT TIME I LET AMARA EAT ALL THE SOULS IN PURGATORY

#i take it back. that one single plotline was good and fucked up and threatening.#distinctly remember a fic about the rest of tfw going down to purgatory for #Reasons. and the vibe just being. a dead and utter silence. blanketed the entire place.#you know how forests are always noisy and thats how you know a forest is working as it should. that its alive.#yeah. not a sound in purgatory. not a footfall. the darkness went to where the hungriest beings in all of creation were. and she ate them #all up.

6 notes · View notes

munsonkitten · 10 months

Text

cuddles

#steddie #my art #steddie art #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #art #these are both old and the colors don’t match but the poses do so they can go together #read my fic sound of silence for the steve face scar lore

13 notes · View notes

rotisseries · 1 year

Text

hate when a song has ONE line that fits your blorbos but is otherwise unconnected to them. can't put it on the playlist so I just have to sit there and hear the line and think about them with a debilitating emotional pain for a whole 2 seconds

#me when ethel cain writes strangers #and the line “I tried to be good‚ am I no good? am I no good? am I no good? with my memory restricted to a polaroid in evidence”#could be SO will byers coded if not for the fact the rest of the song is about a woman being killed and eaten by her lover #this also applies to fanfic btw #me when ethel cain writes western nights and the line “I'm never gonna leave you baby‚ even if you lose what's left of your mind”#is SO descent by andiwriteordie coded #but the rest of the song is about a woman's toxic boyfriend committing crimes and then getting killed by the cops #so you can't exactly send in an ask like “oh hey this song would be great for your fic playlist”#you just have to sit there and take it in silence #actually sounds like I just have miss ethel to blame for this phenomenon #I love the conceptual narrative album queen! but idk what to do with myself when listening to ur music!

43 notes · View notes

sunset-peril · 1 year

Text

14 notes · View notes

seldomscilence16 · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 7:

"I paced around for hours on empty. I jumped at the slightest of sounds"

Alleyway | radio silence | "can you hear me?"

Fandom: TMNT

Prompts used: All

Oof poor Mikey in this one. I may make a part two for this as well, but i'm debating it cause it may be a little more mature. I took inspiration from several places (if you catch the references let me know!) But a collection of one shots on ao3 has its hooks in me (the curse of being the cute one) and would maybe be the direction of the continuation… so it may not be a whumptober thing. Anywho, Drowning TW and Thoughts of Dying. And mentions of dehumanization? Briefly.

…

Michaelangelo had terrible luck when it came to villians. He may argue that his brothers are just as much trouble magnets as he is, but he knows in the back of his mind that he has to have a stronger pull. It seems like every time he goes anywhere, he's getting into some kind of trouble- or rather it finds him, since he's even more tired than his family is when it comes to these situations.

It's why he had no qualms when he'd learned of his brother's plans for the night, Why he had been alone to begin with. Leonardo, Raph and Casey had egged each other on into an obstacle course type patrol, gone before anyone could blink, laughter echoing down the sewers. Donnie had taken that as good enough permission to get together with April and Leatherhead to do… something. Mikey had not been told exactly what, Donnie had claimed it was too complicated for Mikey to understand, and while that had hurt, he'd waved Donnie off with a smile. That had left him and Master Splinter alone, his father had given him a long look as he made himself tea and Mikey was sure he was about to get lectured into extra training.

"You know my son, a change of scenery may at least have your sighs giving your lungs fresh air." He says finally, whiskers twitching as he heads for the couch to watch his programs.

'Leave me in peace.' Goes unsaid

"Leo doesn't like me going topside alone." He should just thank Sensei and run, but the mental image of a Leo lecture is enough to make him cautious.

The look Splinter gives the ceiling has Mikey flinching just a bit.

"You are just as capable as your brother's Michaelangelo, Leonardo is simply blinded by his protective instincts. I trust you my son." He grabs the remote, a dismissal, but throws one more comment over his shoulder, "Do send them a message though, it is better for them to know then to not."

"Thanks Sensei, be back before sunrise!" He grabs his skateboard since he'll have nothing better to do, an ache in his chest as he leaves the lair with only the sounds of a tv behind him.

He loves his family, he understands that they dont always want to be together, he understands that he's not the easiest to have around. The title of youngest hangs heavily on his shoulders despite how little the age difference is. But it's fine, seeing his family and friends happy is all he really wants, even if that means he takes a step back. His t-phone remains silent, his text unanswered, he ignores it as best he can as he reaches the surface and takes his board to the roof tops.

It's a quiet night, like it had been for the past couple days. They'd had a larger fight at the beginning of the week, which is probably why Leo felt comfortable with their smaller patrol group. He hoped they could have some fun tonight, Raph and Leo were always so tense…

His neck tingles so abruptly he fumbles his landing on the next rooftop, missing the skateboard and tumbling head over heels before correcting and sliding into a crouch. His eyes scan the area, heart beating wildly in his chest, his brothers may doubt his instincts, but if his senses say he's being watched, 9 times out of 10 he is. The shadows lay still, but Mikey knows that something set him off.

A noise below has him stiffening, staring at the edge of the building and the gap he'd just jumped over. It could be a cat, he had a thing with cats after all, and if the cat needed help, Mikey should help 'em… but if it was a creepy creep, well Mikey supposed he would be in trouble. But he could handle a creepy creep, he was a capable ninja, with natural born talent and stuff…

He needed to chill out on the horror movie marathons.

Slinking carefully across the rooftop, steps silent and breath nonexistent, he swears to whoever's listening that if it's his brothers down there, he will be very unhappy! He peeks over the edge, and as before finds nothing out of the ordinary. He's ready to laugh this off as paranoia, to continue about his night and never speak of this again, but of course that can't be the case. Before he can turn, the prickly feeling returns to his neck, too quick for him to react, something plunges into his shoulder and a jarring wave of exhaustion hits him, so thick he can't even move, the last thing he sees is an empty alleyway.

"We're home!" Leo calls into the lair as they enter, awaiting Mikey's excited questions and maybe a snack.

"Welcome home my sons, how was your run?" Sensei comes from the kitchen, likely getting ready to meditate before bed.

"Beat this knucklehead by a mile!" Raph grins widely, the mood light and easy for the first time in a while.

"Only because you cheated with that light pole turn!" Leo's own smile is brighter than its been as he shakes his head at his brother, speaking of. He cranes his neck to peer into the kitchen, finding it empty however, "Where's Mikey?"

Splinter raises an eyebrow,

"He went out for some fresh air. As his message should have stated."

Leo takes his t-phone from his belt, a single message in the group chat, sent hours ago.

"He went topside alone?"

"Yes, as you and your brothers have all done. As I have trained you. Was I to keep him cooped up while you three had a night of enjoyment?" Splinters eyes speak volumes, and guilt hits Leo like a truck.

"Still… Sensei, it's like the bad guys are drawn to him-"

"He is a ninja." Splinters staff hits the floor with a silencing thwack, he shakes his head, obviously done with this conversation, "I'm going to meditate. I suggest you think about how you treat Michaelangelo, and ponder on his feelings of said treatment."

The two eldest are left in silence, when Raph holds up his own T-phone,

"Is now a bad time to mention Mikey's tracker is offline."

Two panicked 'What's!?' Echo across the lair.

Mikey will never live this down. He'll never be allowed anywhere alone, he'll be lucky to leave the lair at all.

His body is working against him, sluggish and heavy, hard to move. His head aches in swimming waves, and his scrapes from his rooftop stumble sting annoyingly. His mask has been taken, his weapons, pads and even his wrappings, he feels naked, vulnerable, he hates it. Around his wrists, manacles are locked tightly, a trail of chain leading to where wall and floor meet, where it is embedded deeply. His wrists are already raw despite his sluggish mobility.

"Comfortable Mabayui hikari?" Above him lies the entrance, a rusty ladder leading down, two drainage pipes- barred up- are on either wall adjacent to the ladder. The head peering down at him is clad in foot clan garb and thus hidden, but Mikey knows a smirk when he hears one.

"We prepared this place just for you Akarui chī. Since we know our new pet needs his water source." Another head appears, the largest foot ninja he's seen. They both chuckle as if they'd made the best joke, but Mikey can only think about the down hill slope his night has taken.

"If you survive, maybe Master Shredder will keep you as his own pet. Or maybe we'll keep you our little secret, I'm sure we could have lots of fun."

"See you when high tide ends, or not."

The door slams closed and Mikey's panic skyrockets. They were serious. Those stupid drains were gonna let water IN, and Mikey was way too short for this ride! Wondrous adrenaline fills his veins as he struggles into a sitting position, yanking at the chains hoping something will give so he can get the heck out of here before he tests just how long he can really hold his breath.

"He's not answering, I don't even think it's going through!" Casey calls as he enters the lair.

"I can't get a read on his T-phone. Last known location is from over 3 hours ago, so either someone must have the strongest signal jammer ever, or his phone's been destroyed."

"Who da hell'd be stupid enough to take our brotha?" Raphs knuckles are bruised, likely from a destroyed draining dummy.

"Are we sure it didn't just die? I mean Mikey's usually good at keeping it charged but it's been a weird week, maybe he's fine and headed home now!" April has been wringing her hands since her arrival- no since the phone call- but she would much prefer this over what her anxieties are telling her.

"Mikey knows better than to go radio silent for this long. It's not like him." Leo's crossed arms hide his pale knuckled fists, as he tries to keep a calm head about him.

"I can sense something is wrong, We must hurry." Sensei exits his room, looking shaken from whatever his meditation had brought him.

"Do you know where he is, Sensei??"

"I believe I can get us close."

Mikeys paced the length of his dungeon more times than he can keep track of, chains keeping him from reaching the ladder and even the drains. He's yet to find anything helpful, wrists bleeding at this point from how much he'd struggled against the chains. Not even a grain of dust had been shed from where they connect to the wall, and it's freaking him out. Sounds echo around him, and each one is driving him more over the edge than the last, wondering if the waters finally come, or the foot, or Shredder himself. His stomach churns against nothing but bile and his head still spins with whatever they used to knock him out.

He hates this. Maybe his brothers are right, about everything. What good is he? He only causes trouble, and he can't even seem to get out of it, and this one should be easy! No, it shouldn't have happened in the first place. He should have stayed home, he should have been more cautious, more careful, more aware. Some ninja he is. Defeated by chains and-

Water.

The floor is wet.

It's begun.

Shell.

"Sensei the dock is too big, how are we supposed to find him!?" Donnie's panic is obvious, scanners going ninety to nothing, and eyes jumping this way and that as if he'll miss something.

"Focus, my sons, you have been connected from the start, search that connection, and your brother we will find."

The others watch as the three turtles make eye contact and tentatively do as they are told. Eyes closed, the family steadys their breathing and widens their senses, clearing their minds of nothing but their baby brother.

"Mikey,"

"Come on lit'lle brotha,"

"Mikey, can you hear me?"

Mikey kicks his feet, shoulders straining as he works to keep his head above water by leg power alone. His heart is pounding out of his chest, as he tries to calm his breathing, he needs to be calm, he could hold his breath longer than his brothers, he just needed to calm down. The water slowly climbs his neck and Mikey inhales before he's completely submerged. His extra lids slip over his eyes, he wraps the chains around his arms, wondering if the water would do anything to help his predicament. But his struggle only has bubbles escaping him, his last hope is to wait it out.

He closes his eyes and simply floats.

He couldn't tell you how long had passed, but the burning in his lungs and non changing water level indicates his fear. He wonders if the Shredder will boast about this, or if his brothers will forever be in the dark on how he died.

'Mikey'

He can practically hear them now. He hopes they had a fun night before he ruined it.

'Come on lit'lle brotha'

Will they take care of Klunk and Ick? Who will cook Leatherhead his pizza soup? Who will get Raph to calm down, or Donnie to eat and sleep, or Leo to smile, or-

'Mikey, can you hear me?'

Guys, I'm sorry. I'm gonna miss you.

The three gasp at once,

"Hurry!" They've taken off before the word even left their mouths, but the others are on their tails.

The situation dawns on the others one by one, as they push to go faster, trying to think of how long the tide had been in. Their guts twist at the thought of being too late, what was the last thing they'd said to Mikey? Was it nice? Why did they have to wonder that?

Raph slams into a door hard enough for its hinges to break right off the wall, the smell of wet hits them hard, of mildew and rust and sea water and age. The place is lightly furnished, but they are drawn to the hatch in the floor. Leo breaks the lock, Raph throws open the door, Donnie is the first to jump in, his brother a split second behind. Splashes are heard and breaths are bated.

Mikey watches the bubbles drift upwards, chains holding his limp form in place, his lungs burn, he cant… he cant do it much longer. A disturbance above him, more bubbles, splashes of color, his eyes slip closed.

He gags on the feeling of water swirling up from his lungs and stomach, the burn of no air and wrong pipes, he can barely get enough air in to cough any out, he's turned on his side, something is shoved down his throat, something hits the middle of his plastron, and water expels itself from every part of his face that it can. Nose, eyes, mouth, probably his ears, maybe his very pores. But finally, air enters his lungs after who knows how long.

A tired glance shows his family, he offers a shaky smile, tears streaming faster, before it wobbles and falls, and he collapses into the nearest friendly. They could lecture him after a nap,

"We've got you little brother. It's okay now."

And maybe it is…

#whumptober 2023 #no.7 #“I paced around for hours on empty. I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” lyric #alleyway #radio silence #“can you hear me?”#tmnt #fic #drowning tw #thoughts of death #references to slavery #?#angst #mikey angst #oc foot ninjas

3 notes · View notes

splendidissimus · 7 months

Text

August 2000 - He's Not Home

((Content warning: anxiety, heart condition))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober 2023: day 7: I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds. / Radio silence ))

Genre: hurt / comfort

Romance level: major

Angst level: 3/5

Draco's headspace: anxious

((words: ~1300))

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

Draco couldn't settle down. He prowled anxiously through the ground floor of Theo's house, stifled in the same four narrow rooms, trying not to think and unable to stop it.

He knew where Theo was. His alchemy mentor had sent him to look at an old wizard tomb in the Hogsmeade area, an expedition that would keep him overnight and probably to the next afternoon. Theo called it 'chores' and the 'main perk of having an apprentice'. It was meant to be tedious, boring, exhausting, and dirty work.

But a couple hours after Theo'd gone, a thought wormed its way into Draco's mind: that it was dangerous. He knew the thought was irrational, but he couldn't drive it away, and it sank its claws deeper and deeper into his mind.

He tried to ignore it, distracting himself with trying to figure out how to make a sandwich, but he could even eat what he put together at the end because his stomach was too tight, and trying to read only left him looking at the same sentence over and over, and music on the wireless just put noise behind his thoughts.

He tried to logic himself out of it — old wizard tombs were secured with basic locks or puzzles, not with deadly traps. He had a room at the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't like Hogsmeade Valley was crawling with bands of Dark wizards or dangerous magical beasts, and even if it were, Theo was capable of defending himself. And he was near enough people to send up sparks for help if he weren't. He was fully safe, there wasn't any danger…

But it didn't help, because his mind only responded with but what if. What if an unstable ceiling caved in? What if the tomb was harbouring acromantulas? What if there were unsavoury types interested in the same tomb for some reason? What if he fell down and broke his leg? What if he fell down and broke his wand?

What if he was alone and…

He should go back to his own flat, but he couldn't bring himself to. For some reason, the thought of Theo's house standing empty was unbearable.

He could feel his heart responding to the constant quiet fear, trying to beat harder, faster. He focused on Occlumency techniques to try to control his emotions and his heart. Unfortunately, fear was the one emotion he had never been able to control except by burying it into nothingness, and he didn't want to get trapped in that dark numbness ever again if he could help it.

Finally, he defied his heart and, leaving all the lamps lit behind him, forced his way up the three flights of steep, unsteady stairs that made Theo's house a death trap for him, up to Theo's room at the very top of the house. The cramped attic space, lined with trunks and overfilled bookcases, offered little in the way of comfort except the sagging bed at the far end. Draco took a seat on it under the creased Holyhead Harpies poster, winced at the screeching of springs, and tried to catch his breath.

The room smelled of Theo. That did help calm his heart, although probably not enough to offset the climbing of the stairs, in all honesty. Still. He closed his eyes and recited his mantra, that Theo was okay, he would be home tomorrow, and nothing was wrong…

But what if it was? It could be. He had no way of knowing. He was just lying to himself.

There was a way to check. Maybe. He had the Owlless in his pocket, the special sheet of parchment and enchanted quill that he and Theo could use to write back and forth instantly. They hadn't used it in a long time, but…

He laid it out on the table beside the bed. The last conversation in it was months old, Theo wishing him a happy birthday and his lack of response. He read over it a few times, restless eyes returning to the top every time he finished it. Repeating to himself that Theo was okay.

Finally, he wrote 'Please write back.' on the bottom of the page. And then waited.

He stared at the page forever, telling himself he wasn't worried and there was nothing to worry about and he hadn't expected an answer anyway and Theo probably didn't even have it with him and he could quite possibly be asleep right now and there was nothing to worry about… A cycle of the same thoughts chased themselves endlessly through his head, an ouroboros of anxiety. The cold tightness of his stomach and the painful fluttering of his heart didn't believe the words his mind tried to insist upon.

His heart was too fast. He didn't even have to turn on the monitor to acknowledge that. It was too fast and it wasn't calming down, because how could it? He needed to take something for it.

He didn't want to sleep, though. Except he did. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner Theo would be back and he'd prove to himself that everything was all right and this was pure foolishness. Or he could stay up just a little longer and see if Theo wrote back. It could be any moment. But no, he probably wasn't going to, and anyway, if he went to sleep, then it would be morning soon and he would have Theo's answer on the Owlless waiting for him.

He sat and watched the Owlless.

It did nothing.

His heart gave an obvious, irregular thump, and he winced and held his chest. He had to. He unshrank the potion bag from his pocket and found the sedative meant for this, took a last look at the unresponsive Owlless, and swallowed it all.

The effect was quick and irresistable: his pulse gradually slowed, and exhaustion and achey muscles gave way to calm tired feelings. He tried to resist it, but soon he curled up on Theo's bed, surrounded in the reassuring scent of him.

—

Draco woke before dawn from unremembered nightmares that left him wiping tear-tracks off his cheeks and dread heavy in his stomach. The first thing he did, when he realised where he was, was check the Owlless, and he found that Theo had not written.

He told himself he had expected it. He also stayed there looking at it for a long time.

Around noon, he planted himself in the sitting room where the floo was, pretending he was listening to the wireless, or that he wasn't just marking every second of 'afternoon' where Theo didn't show up. If he wasn't back by the time he was normally off work…

A few hours later, the floo flared to green life, and he was on his feet. Theo came through, dusting off his sleeves, and Draco immediately grabbed him, hugging him tightly, holding the back of his head, fingers twining through his hair. "I know it's stupid," he said into his shoulder, preemptively. "Just…"

Theo's hands were startled wide for a second, showing he hadn't even realised he was there, then rested on his hips. "Hey. Everything okay?"

"Yes." Now it was.

—

After a few minutes, Theo made his way upstairs to change into clean clothes. He wasn't expecting the state of the room. He could read Draco's night in what he left there — the wrinkled bed, the empty emergency sedative, the abandoned Owlless with its single plaintive sentence…

He didn't even waste the time to change. He went back downstairs and wrapped his arms tight around Draco, holding him silently and not letting him go.

#whumptober2023 #no.7 #I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.#radio silence #fic #harry potter #anxiety tw #draco malfoy #draco x theo #theo nott #fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #hp fanfic #splendidissimus writing #draco is anxious #draco in his 20s

4 notes · View notes