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#splash when fish leaps
eggfeather · 1 year
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splash when fish leaps
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exocynraku · 2 years
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lady
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Splash when Fish Leaps
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gougarpaw · 2 years
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[Image: A digital drawings of Splash When Fish Leaps from warriors. She is a brown cat with a short tail, blue eyes and a dark brown nose. Her tail, back, ears, and a mark between her eyes are dark brown, and her underbelly and chest are light brown. She is walking to the right with her front left paw lifted. Above her back “Splash when fish leaps” is written in blue. End Description.]
“Cats have survived here for many, many seasons. I couldn't live anywhere else. This is where I belong, between the snow and the sky.”
Splash is a small, light brown tabby she-cat with a stubby tail.
notes:
- according to Su Susann, Splash had orange eyes. She, Pebble, and Screech were the kids of Rock and Flight
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rosemist50 · 8 months
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Tribe cats part two!!! First are Crag Where Eagles Nest and Talon of Swooping Eagle, both brothers and also Brook Where Small Fish Swim's brothers. After them is Rain That Rattles Stones, Snow Falling on Stones, Storm Clouds at Dusk, and Splash When Fish Leaps. Then there is Cloud With Star in Belly, Thorn That Grows in Cleft, Jagged Rock Where Heron Sits, and Star That Shines on Water. And then finally is Crest of Snowy Mountain, Moon Shining on Water, Moss That Grows by River, Swoop of Chestnut Hawk, Pebble That Rolls Down Mountain, and Screech of Angry Owl. Pebble and Screech are siblings. Also, Moon and Thorn were introduced by their eye color first and it was never specified who had green and who had amber eyes, sooo heterochromia it is :) The eyes are the same color between them.
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lightningwaters · 1 year
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Splash When Fish Leaps
Originally posted on August 13th, 2022
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spottedmoggy · 2 years
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Splash When Fish Leaps
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troutsplash
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alastorss · 23 days
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HIIII so i had an idea for like a reader that's crushing on alastor, and angel dust making jokes about it in front of alastor and basically what would happen once he catches on
Have a lovely day, get good sleep!!!<33 luv ur writing<33
a/n: hello sweets <3 thank you and i hope you like this!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Alastor has watched you splash your martini all over Angel's face so many times this week, he's almost certain the star is provoking you on purpose just for a free drink.
In the short time he's come to know him, he's learned that if there's one thing Angel Dust is good at—besides looking pretty on film—it's that he can be absolutely shameless.
Alastor remembers, with a twinge of disgust, that the spider had once told him he came with built in reins. That comment kept him seething for hours.
And now, poor you, having fallen into the trap of his intricate web—the Radio Demon would be laughing if he didn't actually feel slightly bad for you. He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of those comments, after all.
You, unlike your four-armed friend, have a capacity for shame the likes of which have never been seen before. All hot cheeks and wide eyes, lips pulled into a straight, thin line—embarrassment burns in every corner of your expression.
Though, that's probably why Angel has taken such a liking to teasing you.
Here he is again, crawling over the bar to get into your face as soon as Alastor appears in the room. His voice is low and melodic, so quiet the Overlord can't quite make out the words until—
"Look, hun. Your prince charming!"
Alastor raises a brow as he takes his seat next to you at the bar, setting down his newspaper.
"What was that?" He asks, eyes flickering between you and a coy-looking Angel Dust.
"Oh, nothin'. That right, sugar?"
You look nothing but utterly defeated, martini forgotten and abandoned. "Angel..." you mutter in warning. The spider only shrugs and gives you a toothy little grin.
"Hey Smiles," Angel suddenly grabs you by the cheeks and turns your face to look in Alastor's direction. You only blink at each other in surprise. "Cute, eh?"
You quickly smack his hand away from you, swivelling around to glare. "Quit it!"
Angel puts his hands up in mock surrender. He huffs, backing off. "Okay, okay! Fine! You two are unbelievable."
With that, he stalks off to bother Husk instead. You sigh in relief, head hitting the bar counter. For a moment, you completely forget that Alastor is still sitting beside you.
"Care to explain?"
He watches as you nearly jolt out of your skin, amused at how flustered you are from a little teasing. It's rather cute.
"It's nothing!" You sputter, waving your arms around in panic.
But you can't fool Alastor. Not anymore.
It hadn't clicked before—that perhaps there was some merit behind Angel Dust's words. He had gotten so used to empty threats of sexual advances that he had ruled out the possibility that the star was being a little serious for once.
He wasn't exactly subtle, always jumping on the opportunity to make your cheeks burn whenever the Radio Demon was around.
"It didn't sound like nothing," he sings, leaning in closer to you so he can gauge your reaction.
As expected, you nearly leap away from him when he suddenly invades your personal space. He snickers.
"Not you too..." you groan.
"Why, I didn't know you had such a crush on me, darling~"
"You're the worst."
"Ah, and I suppose that's why our dear friend has been teasing you about me all this time? Because I'm the worst, and you hate me?"
He's getting entirely too close. His face is nearly touching yours.
You stare at him in bewilderment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, you manage to stammer out a weak retort.
"You should butt out of other people's business."
"It sounds like it's about to be my business, dear. You know, if you liked me so much, you could have just told me instead of Angel Dust."
"I preferred it when you were just a regular asshole, and not a cocky one!"
"Oh, how you wound me~"
"Shut up!"
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda
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horseshoegirl · 2 months
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Set Me Alight - Part 5: I Can't Go On Without You
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📜.... I'm sorry... it's getting angsty in here... you guys aren't going to like someone after this...
❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights, bullying, camping, and pranks.
#4.8 k words
Part 4 | Masterlist | Part 6
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Remember that tiny feeling of guilt building in the pit of your stomach? For doing something as simple as switching sugar for salt for Jake's coffee? 
Yeah. It got worse. 
Worse, as in it was eating your stomach alive. Worse, as in, your heart was leaping out of your chest. Worse, as in you wondered what the rest of the group thought about you or if they had caught on, such as Nat and Cora had done.
All because that asshole stayed silent the entire time you were leading the group to the waterfall.
It's not as if he didn't try to approach you - He did, or at least tried to. Every time you saw him coming, you'd either take Nat or Cora by the arm to start a conversation. Or you'd engage Bob in a talk about what artifact or item he was currently working on at the museum. The man loved to talk about his work, and you were all too happy to indulge him, regardless of whether it got you out of a confrontation with Seresin.
I guess you could say it was your guilt that wanted to keep you away from him.
But with the lack of heckling or hollering you've come to suspect from him, you honestly thought he'd at least try to keep up that facade. Hassle you over the map or something to do with the compass. Maybe even cause a fight when it came time to switch to a new trail marker.
You did it to him. You could only assume he'd do it to you. Even with his view at the back of the pack, the same spot you had taken to the past two days, he didn't. He only spoke when he was spoken to.
It was making everything that much worse.
As the group rounded the final bend on the trail, all of you could hear the sound of rushing water. Everyone perked up, seemingly finding a new energy and pace, eager now more than ever to finally see one of the sights that made this place so popular.
The moment the falls came into view, a collective gasp swept through the group.
Despite the clouds above, heavy with the promise of rain, the two twin waterfalls were breathtaking, one higher up than the other lower, both situated on their own angles. The water itself shimmered, cascading down the rocky cliffside into the pool below into a thousand shades of blue, and the sound was enough to mute the conversations of the other hikers. The surrounding forest was lush and green, making it a scene of pure, unspoiled wilderness.
You wanted to paint this place. The way the water fell over the rocks and how the two falls shone the light—the green in the trees - even the dirt and mud—the fact you couldn't hurt more than you could fathom.
You flexed your hand, the bandage tightening around your wrist. 
If you couldn't experience why you wanted to be here, you'd at least try to find joy in how happy your friends were to be here instead.
Dropping your bags down against a nearby tree after everyone else did the same, like a silent observer, you hung back on the outskirts of the group, trying to find some semblance of joy as everyone had their moment.
Cora, Grace and Nat laughed as they shed their clothing and jumped into the water. Mickey followed soon after, canon balling close enough to the girls so they might get splashed. Bob was trying to spot the fish and the rocks, hoping to find a mineral or two. Bradley merely stood still, watching Nat with loving eyes, and Rueben and Javy took the chance to sit and stretch their legs.
But Jessica and Veronica, in particular, stood out the most. With their faces full of makeup, seemingly more prepared for a photoshoot than a peaceful day at a waterfall. They spent that entire last break applying layer after layer, pluckering their lips with lip gloss into the screens of their phones. They were posed and preened by the water's edge, a view that had a complementary angle to both falls in the background.
Only you would notice the stark contrast between their carefully curated appearances and the natural beauty that surrounded them.
It's not worth something unless someone can get a photo out of it, right?
As you wandered away from your spot, you caught snippets of a video the two were filming. They spoke loud enough to cover the roar of the water, but it also appeared as if the two were trying to rally the attention of the other hikers and campers - as if, by some miracle, whatever they were doing or clearly saying would gather some attention.
They didn't mention names, not that you heard yet, but with the explicit references to 'someone's antics and attitude' at a campsite, you knew it only had to be you. 
"I mean, it's just so petty, right? But I'm the bigger person, and I wouldn't stoop to that level. Moving on and forgetting is better, right?" Jessica explained to her phone.
You rolled your eyes. They thrived on drama and the need for attention. And no matter what story they chose to share, they could have taken shit, disguised it as pecan pie, and people they had ever met before in person would still eat it and call it great. 
 While it hurt on some level, you didn't value their opinion. Never had or will. It's what made you so carefree in levelling their attacks with remarks of your own. 
The sun would still set, and you would still go on about your life long after this trip, without either of them ever having touched one influence of your life, should you have any real control over the matter.
No matter what, people like Jessica and Veronica would always find something to criticize or mock.
And standing here, in a beautiful park, they were on their phones, too wrapped up in their superficial social media world, informing people on the internet about every facet of their lives to experience what life had to offer.
There's more to life than the two-faced nature that is the internet.
Having felt dumb for even watching them, your gaze finally landed on Jake. He was kneeling, staring down at his own reflection in the water, lost to the rest of the world around him.
Why did he try to approach you? Why did he stay quiet? Why did he defend you against Jessica's words? Could you go as far as to say it was guilt-shadowing his usual cocky confidence?
In your mind, Jake was still the quintessential jock, the privileged rich kid with an air of frat-boy arrogance, someone who found amusement in driving you up the wall. 
He didn't deserve your sympathy, nor did he deserve to feel guilty—if indeed he did—because, in your eyes, he had always been the one taking pleasure in causing pain, not the other way around. If guilt was indeed the cause of his actions, a part of you fiercely rejected the idea that he deserved to feel that way. Despite everything, you couldn't reconcile the boy who had once hurt you with the man reflecting on his reflection, showing hints of vulnerability.
Shoving your hand into your pocket, you let out a hiss when something sharp poked your skin. You pulled the object out, looking down into the palm of your hand to see the stowaway fish hook from Jake's bag.
Grace let out a scream as Mickey splashed some water in her direction and Cora's faces. You lifted your head at the sound. You watched them for a few seconds as your hand closed over the piece of metal. That was until your eyes drifted to rather large clumps of algae floating nearby.
Toying with the hook, a horrible, terrible idea began to take shape.
The urge to draw Jake out of his silence, to elicit some sort of reaction from him, became almost irresistible. You wanted to draw him out. You wanted to break through this silence. It wasn't like Jake to be this quiet, and honestly, it irked you more than his usual antics ever could.
He didn't deserve to feel guilty. Not when he didn't back then. 
You just hoped the asshole was afraid of snakes.
The task was slightly more challenging with your bandaged wrist, but you were determined. You scouted the area carefully and soon found what you needed – a flexible, skinny-looking stick. Making sure nobody was looking, you dipped one end into the water, collecting the green stuff before pulling it out, trying to resist the urge to gag.  After racing over to where you had left your bags, you dug through them to find the other object you had taken from Jake's fishing supplies that morning.  
After making sure the close was clear, and with one hand doing most of the work and the other providing clumsy support, you crafted your gathered materials into a makeshift but realistic-looking snake.
The trick was to make it move believably. You hastily attached one end of the fishing wire to the stick, creating a simple rig that would allow the faux snake to slither when tugged. The other end of the wire, now knotted to the fishing hook, was kept ready to be discreetly hooked onto your unsuspecting victim.
By the time you stood up and returned to your observation point, your prank hidden at your side, Veronica and Jessica had roped Jake into taking a group photo. Nat had been called into the fray, now out of the water and dressed, and then suddenly, she was shouting for you, Cora and Grace to join them.
With a casual smile, you approached the group, keenly aware of Jessica's subtle maneuvering with the camera, likely intending to edge you out of the frame. You didn't mind one bit, purposely settling next to Jake. It made for what you were about to do that much easier.
While pretending to adjust your position for the photo, you discreetly reached out with the wire and hook. It caught on to the edge of his sweater, and you let go, your grin widening as the girls counted down.
 Or, so you thought.
Once the photo had been taken and everyone had been satisfied with the result, Veronica stepped forward.
Then, she screamed.
You could only watch as she bolted forward, the fake snake you had rigged for Jake chasing her with each stride. In her panic, she didn't see the edge of the bank leading to the water, and she tumbled in with a loud, heavy splash.
The group erupted in a mix of shocked gasps and then laughter as Veronica finally emerged, wretched head to toe and makeup running down her face.  Even the rest of the tourists couldn't help but laugh, a few wondering a lot loud what happened. 
You watched, horrified she'd catch on to what you did, but you sighed in relief when Javy helped her from the water. The wire had come loose in the fall, effectively freeing you from the immediate blame that was surely meant to follow.
As everyone tried to convince her there wasn't a snake, you shot Cora a glance. Of course, she was already watching you with suspicious eyes, and of course, she had seen what you did, knowing just who exactly that prank was meant for. You could only give her a sheepish shrug, somehow acknowledging the unintended target of your prank.
But were you sorry for how that turned out?
Nope, absolutely not. Not one bit.
Basking in the relief of not being caught, you are blissfully unaware of Nat and her hardening expression, solely directed at you. Her eyes are narrowing with each breath, and her displeasure is evident to any on-looker brave enough to see.
She stepped forward, ready to call you out on your bullshit promise of not trying to pull anything else, when Jake suddenly looped his arm through hers, pulling her away and over to Rueben. 
It is then Bradley suddenly jumps and grabs you by the arm.
Using Veronica and the commotion as a distraction signals Jake and Rueben, who give him a hidden thumbs up in return. When you ask him what's wrong, Bradley only sushs you and pulls you away to a path nearby.
You let him guide you, following it down and then up a slight hill, one that stops at a mid-over look of both of the falls. It's surrounded by lush greenery and trees, and even on an edge, you couldn't see the rest of the tourists below.
It's perfect for what you suspect Bradley is about to do. After all, you and Nat were the ones who purposely picked this spot for him to take a hint and pop the question. And your thought is only confirmed when he lets go of your arm to reach into his pocket and pull out that tiny blue box.
"I'm going to do it," he blurts out, running his hand through his hair. "Right now. Jake and Reuben are leading her here."
You can't help but feel utter joy, smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt. "Bradley, she's going to be so happy!"
Bradley, however, looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. "I just... I need this to go right, Midge. I can't mess this up," he stammered, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered it down to his side. His eyes shot up to the path, and you could hear Nat's voice laughing at something as she unknowingly approached the two of you.
You took his hand into yours, letting it curve over his grip on the box, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Bradley, you've got this. Just remember to breathe, okay? Nat loves you, and this will be perfect because it's coming from you. Nothing else matters. Not the place, not everyone else. Just the two of you."
He forced himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders sag. When he finally seemed to regain his composure, he offered you a nod. "You're right... I just need to keep it together."
Letting go of his hand, you gave him a gentle pat on the back of his shoulder. "Go get her, you big chicken."
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, motioning for you to hide. You squealed in delight, running to take cover in a thick, overgrown bush. Natasha emerged from the path, Ruben and Jake trailing close behind and you crouched down in the overly dense bush and hidden from plain sight.
Reaching into your pants to grab your phone, you turned it on. You had been saving your remaining battery life for this, both you and Bradley knowing Nat would want pictures to remember the day, hence why he came and got you.
Once it was booted up, you unlocked it, peering over the bush as Bradley greeted Nat with a hesitant smile. Jake and Rueben side their arms out from where they had been looped against hers and sent her on her way. 
She went willingly, a soft and warm smile on her face as she pressed herself deep into Bradley's chest. As much as he tried to calm himself down, and as much as your words had somewhat helped, nothing could have helped him more than a hug from the person he loved the most. You could see the second the stress, the tension, and the worry seemed to evaporate from his body. He fell into her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
Sliding forward, you held your phone between a gap in the brush. Watching them through the screen, you attempted to use your bad hand to try and zoom in for the right angle, the right depth of the two of them with the waterfalls in the back.
As they shared a soft laugh about something, you felt a surge of affection for the two of them. It was obvious there was no better couple and nobody else in the world better suited for either of them than each other.
All you've ever wanted was to see Nat happy, and in Bradley, she's found that happiness. It's a comforting, reassuring thought that brings a sense of peace to your heart amidst all the utter disaster that was this fucking trip.
"I know it was you who swapped my sugar this morning."
God, Fucking Damnit, Jake!
Titling your head back, there he was in all his fucking glory, standing above you with his hands on his hips like some middle-aged, snarky woman being cut out of line in a grocery store.
You want to scream. Nat and Bradley would merely have to twist back to see him standing there, in plain sight, in the middle of the forest, glaring down at you from behind the bush.
He was either denser than a fucking brick wall or simply decided, in a stroke of questionable judgment, this was the perfect moment to confront you over a petty prank.
"Get the fuck down, you idiot!" you whispered harshly. "They are going to see you!"
Swapping your phone into your injured hand and biting down on your lip as your wrist aches, you find a solid grip on his shirt, yanking him down toward the ground. Jake falls with a severe lack of grace, and you grimace, wondering if Nat or Bradley heard him.
You check through the gap, sighing in relief when you see they are standing with their backs towards the two of you, off admiring the waterfall. But with the relief came the turmoil, and the reality of your current predicament is blatantly obvious.
Jake is kneeling next to you in the dirt, the both of you behind a very small bush, while your best friends are getting engaged just on the other side. He's so close you can feel him breathing down your neck, and his eyes are pinning you down with his stare. Every visible piece of your skin is simply burning from his presence alone.
And the fact you can't leave. Neither can he. Not until Bradley has gotten down on one knee and Nat has answered that famous question with nothing but a joyful, happy yes.
"You've been avoiding me all day."
You could only roll your eyes and snort. "You don't say? I can only wonder why."
As you're unlocking your phone again and placing your phone back inside the bush, Jake leans forward to mummer in your ear. "I know that 'snake' on the fishing wire trick was supposed to be for me, too. You did a shit job of covering up your robbery heist."
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jake trace his fingers over the palm of his other hand. Had you looked, you would have seen faint, red scratch marks marring his skin. 
You can't help but snicker at the memory of Veronica falling into the water and of her climbing out, looking like a drenched raccoon. "Can't say I'm disappointed it didn't happen to you."
News flash - You're not.
"Good to know I'm not the only one on your hit list."
"You are the list, asshole," you grumble under your breath.
Thinking he'd have some common sense and leave it at that, you lean forward, observing through your screen as Bradley discreetly reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out the box.
It's a stupidly optimistic thought.
"Can you just talk to me for once in your life?"
He never learns when to shut his trap, does he?
"Can you just shut up for two seconds?" you snap, not taking your eyes off your phone. "Bradley's purposing!"
"I'm sorry, Midge, Okay? I'm sorry for the bear trick. It wasn't supposed to go like that. I'm sorry you hurt your wrist. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
You shake your head. "Jake! Shut the fuck up!"
He frowned. "Why won't you let me apologize?!"
"Turn your fucking head and look Jackass." You gesture with your bandaged hand. "This isn't the time!"
He shifts in the dirt, drawing closer to you. "When is the time? Cause you've been running from me since we set out this morning. Actually, the entire trip so far."
"We're hiding in a bush, watching our two best friends get engaged. Of course, it's not the right fucking time!" you rush out in a single whispered breath.
"They are over there and can't hear us... I just need you to hear me out, Midge. I didn't mean for any of this to—"
"Seriously, Jake?" you hiss, finally taking your eyes off your phone as your patience wears thin. "Now is not the time."
But Jake is too caught up in his own need to clear the air to stop. And his voice grows louder despite the need for the utmost discretion.
"I just want to fix this, Midge! I hate that we're like this. I've always hated this! This thing we have going on, and I have no idea why!"
You couldn't help it when your voice suddenly boomed out, "You don't know why? Really? Let's start with that fucking mouth of yours!"
"Seriously?! You two couldn't can it for one fucking minute for this?!"
You slammed your eyes shut, wincing hard.
Fuck.
Nat's voice cut sharply through the air, her words laced with anger. "Get the fucking hell out here, the two of you! Now!"
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Reluctantly, Jake and you unfolded from your crouched positions. Your movements were hesitant as you both stepped out from the relative safety of the bush to face the weight of Nat's furious gaze.
Standing tall and with her shoulders squared, Nat was the epitome of fury. Her eyes could have melted steel, and each breath she took was measured, controlled, and laced with the increasing difficulty of maintaining her composure. She had yet to speak another word, but you knew.
She was barely holding it together, holding off the inevitable bomb that had been building up since she pulled you aside this morning.
But the worst thing you could have seen in this very moment? Bradley, still frozen mid-kneel, the expression on his face equal parts a mix of shock and heartbreak. And in his hand, grasped between two fingers, is Nat's ring - the one you helped to pick out.
You half expected him to shoot you a hateful glare, but he was only staring at Jake, coming to a stand and placing Nat's ring safely back within its box.
"What's so fucking wrong with the two of you?!"
You drew in a sharp, shaky breath. Nat continued to yell, first setting her wrath onto Jake as he let out an awkward cough.
"Jake, don't think you're innocent in all this!" she snapped. "Always egging her on, playing these stupid games. It's like you're both in some twisted competition to see who can be the most infuriating."
Her eyes bore into him, Jake obviously scared of her. She took a step forward and pointed to the ground. Bradley swung his arm out in front of her in fear she was on the verge of violence.
You were grateful. Nat would be capable of murder at this point.
"You could've been the bigger person, walked away, but no, you just had to keep it going. It's like you enjoy this drama. Well, congratulations, it's ruined a moment that was supposed to be about Bradley and me, not your petty feud!"
Jake ducked his head like a child getting scolded by a parent, his Adam's apple bobbing with his harsh swallow.
"And you!" she spun, now pointing her finger at you. You reeled back, scared at her snarl and the sheer rage she was projecting onto you, something you've never been on the receiving end of since you met her.
"I don't know what stick he's metaphorically shoved up your ass, Midge," she mocks your nickname in a deliberate tone, "but you need to get the fuck over it. How long has it been?!"
Your heart snaps. You are pretty sure it's been shattered, too.
"It's like one day you just woke up and decided he wasn't worthy of your attention! That he was too good for you!" Nat spins in frustration, running her fingers through the roots of her hair before she's back to unleashing her wrath onto you.
"Do you know we can't have proper get-togethers without the two of you causing some sort of scene?" she shrieks. "Here we were thinking that maybe, just maybe, forcing the two of you together for once in your life would get you to be fucking nice to him? Maybe they can communicate and figure their shit out. Maybe she won't run away every single time she fucking sees him."
"Nat..." Bradley tries to reason, turning to face her and trying to place his hand on her hip. She slaps his hand away, too far gone to care.
You know what, I was wrong! I was fucking wrong!” She threw her hands up in the air, letting them slap hard against her thighs as she let them fall. “You just can get your head out of your ass to realize this isn’t about you and your feelings and some selfish vendetta. It’s downright selfish, Midge!”
This is the reason why you've never told Nat - told any of them. Because what Jake said that faithful night is smacking you back in the face. Not that they didn't ever ask about it - they did - but because nobody would truly understand it.
They'd tell you it wasn't true. To not judge him for something he said in his youth. To grow up. To get over it. To give him a second chance or deep down, he secretly had a crush on you - as fucking if.
Or worse... Someone would confirm it.
Nat is confirming it. And for the four years you've been fighting against Jake, against the words he uttered to that girl in the bathroom of your college apartment, they meant nothing in this very moment.
The idea, Jake, was right after all struck like a blow to your chest, the weight, the force, sucking all the air from your lungs and replacing it with a heavy, undeniable truth.
"Having the both of you on this trip was a mistake," she mumbled angrily under her breath, shaking her head. With a swift, frustrated turn, she stormed off, each step pounding hard on the dirt trail.
You could no longer fight it. Tears overwhelmed the corners of your eyes, and you let them fall after years of running, finally allowing Jake the privilege of seeing the damage he caused and the death glare he damn well deserved.
"None of this," you seethed, pointing to Nat's retreating form, "would have happened had you not shut up the first time I told you to, Seresin."
Jake was visibly stunned, the shock in his eyes clear. "You can't honestly believe I wanted this to happen?!"
"You'd be pleased anyway it went regardless," You seeth. It's nothing but pure venom spilling from your lips, and Jake even finds himself taking a step back at the pure anger you're aiming toward him, only matched by Nat's previous rage.
You retreated towards a nearby tree, wiping the tears from your eyes as you laid your forehead against the bark, taking long, deep breaths. With sad eyes, Jake watched you go until there was shuffling in the dirt, and he spun, intercepting Bradley with an outstretched arm.
"Bradley... I didn't..."
"Just save it, man," Bradley replied dejectedly, slapping his arm out of the way as he dodged past. "There's nothing you could say that would make this better than what it already is."
He took off after Nat, his hand tightly clasped around the tiny blue box, and Jake couldn't do anything but grow roots into the ground, wondering how things went so incredibly wrong so incredibly fast.
Bradley had been coaching him on how to approach you. He thought last night, before those two showed up, there had been some progress. But now, standing amidst the aftermath of a failed proposal, Jake felt more lost than ever.
He knew he shouldn't have approached you while Bradley was down on one knee. The guilt he felt, even knowing how nervous he was about fucking it up, was incomparable. But you... you rebuffed him. Every single time he tried to approach you, you played the same damn game, and he felt like he was left without any other choice.
He just wanted to apologize to you before things got worse. Worse than you falling and hurting yourself because he couldn't man up and ask Jessica and Veronica to leave him alone.
There you were, crouching behind that bush, and he had the overwhelming urge to ask. And to say sorry that you had been hurt when he never intended for that in the first place. He just wanted to know why. Why did you so desperately hate him? Why, with every word, do you find fault with everything he did or would do?
But when Jake turned around to ask, you were already long gone, and he was left with nothing but the remnants of a failed proposal, Natasha's disappointment in the two of you, and the lasting impact of your anger.
Long may he rejoice in his ever-lasting ability to fuck things up further, especially when it came to you.  
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So... who do we hate? Let me know 😅 (Not the writer, please not the writer)
Taglist:
@desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @fanficfandomlove @hookslove1592 @dakotakazansky
@teacupsandtopgun @lynnevanss @dizzybee03 @keyrani
@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @dempy @stargazer-88 @alldaysdreamer @the-dark-and-mystery @bookchik15
@atarmychick007 @trickphotography2 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @buckysteveloki-me @wretchedmo
@redbarn1995 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yuckosworld @wren5650 @mrsevans90 @bellaireland1981 @tgmreader
@halibshepherd @essie1876 @formulafun @memoriesat30
Part 6 - Running up that hill - In progress
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Text
I've been dreaming of the Undersea Advisor.
In life, there are many variables to account for. Ah, but variables can be manipulated.
He remakes the world in his image.
How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?
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There are several little glass containers, lined up in a neat row, on his work bench. He is the master, and this is his craft: pocket dimensions, each with a different biome bottled.
Here is a lush garden with enchanted roses and caterpillars that blow smoke, and a savanna where miniature beasts race about. A desert with its own oasis--a massive scarab running amok, a regal castle he had painstakingly constructed with a pair of tweezers for a peacock no bigger than his thumb... He had even somehow managed to create a sleek building blinking blue lights and a crumbling chateau overrun with moss and bite-size bats.
His current project is a bowl of salt water, a layer of sand decorated with seaweed and coral at the bottom. He had taken the liberty of tucking fake jewels, a plastic treasure box, and a model of a sunken ship in.
For flair, he chuckles to himself. All that's left is to find proper aquatic specimens to house in it.
From the doorway, Jade adjusts the straps on his backpack, making sure that they're secure, that his supplies are in order. His boots laced, his jacket buttoned, he marches out the door and into the wilderness.
The forest is quiet and without trees but is not devoid of life.
Instead of trunks, there are stems--plump, pillowy, in various shades of white and cream. They are wider at the base and narrower at the head, which gives way to fluted undersides. Gills, Jade knows, a very different kind than those of a merman.
The air is clean and refreshing, lightly washed with spores. Not visible to the naked eye, but at the right refractions of sunlight, Jade can see them dancing into shapes upon the wind.
Circular shadows are cast across the ground, belonging to the caps that tower far above him. Mushrooms--macro-sized--have taken over the feet of the mountain, making it a suitable hideout for his hobbies. Sunlight spills through the cracks between the clustered caps, forming golden pools along the forest floor.
Jade makes a game of hopping upon them, one by one.
It isn't long before he comes upon the stream that cuts through the heart of the wood. A thin and humble little thing, able to be crossed in a single stride of his long legs.
Jade drops his backpack and drops to one knee. He inspects the fresh water up close with a careful eye. It's clear and still at the edges, white and foamy in the center, where it flows the fastest.
His heart leaps when he sees it--a streak of silver darting by.
He kicks off his footwear and rolls his pants up, silently stepping into the stream. Jade is cautious about not splashing, to avoid making noises or movements as that would disturb the wildlife.
He stands there, watching. Waiting, waiting, for that next fish to pass.
He thinks he sees it, a glimmer laid deep in the water. He reaches for it, fingers grazing wetness, but does not complete the grab.
“You like that, don’t you? The feeling of being in control, a life dancing in your palm,” a musical voice rings out. “It grants you security, assuredness.”
His eyes flicker down. His reflection shifts in the churning water, but he can see its mouth moving when his doesn’t.
An obstacle—amusing.
Jade purses his lips into a patient smile. “Oya, does a pixie presume to know those who visit their forest?”
“I am no pixie. In this pool of tears, all is laid bare,” his reflection says, “and given truth.”
“You claim to speak the truth. If that is the case, then you take no issue with divulging sensitive state secrets?” Jade’s smile grows, turning sharp. “To demonstrate your veracity, of course. I do not intend to misuse the information.”
“I know that you lie as easily as you breathe,” the pool replies, “for I have knowledge of only the souls that gaze into me.”
“A shame. I was quite curious about your awe-inspiring powers. Alas, there are limits put on greatness. It appears as though a puddle can never match the ocean in size nor in bounty.”
His reflection is not irked by his needling. “If you wish to take, then you must offer up a piece of yourself of equal value.”
“You have said that I lie as easily as I breathe. Is the word of a liar worth its salt?”
“You must speak truthfully.”
“But if I am a liar, and you have assumed my appearance, does that not, by proxy, make you a liar as well? That means what was uttered earlier is a lie, and I must tell an untruth—which I have already provided.”
The reflection pauses, considering the logic. Slow horror dawns on its expression—stolen from him—and it glowers.
"Liar," the reflection bitterly spits. It vanishes into the frothing waters.
There's a sigh, then the shudder of a release that fills the forest of mushrooms. Something, somewhere, has shattered.
Silver fills the clear stream, coloring it one shiny, metallic shade. Fins and scales bat against his skin. Healthy, plentiful.
Jade plunges an arm elbow-deep, and--
He gasps.
Something latches onto his arm and violently tugs. He's brought face-to-face with his own shocked expression, droplets hissing at him.
The stream, Jade realizes, should not be this deep.
He resists, trying to throw his body weight back, but the force holds tight. The slimy grip tightening like a fist.
He does not to fully relish in the surprise, so rare a feeling for him, before there is another strong pull. Jade falls forward, eyes wide as the water hits him in full.
Slowly, slowly... he finds himself sinking into an abyss.
It's the sea, deep and dark, shrouded by black mist. A ship-shaped shadow looms, at the inky depths--and through holes punched in the hull, undiscovered treasures wink up at him. Chests of forgotten gold and gems, like stars blinking in and out of view.
He dangles, suspended, like a puppet left upon the stage that has closed for the night. The scene, the stands, empty, save for the vague shapes of coral and twisting tendrils of seaweed.
Something shifts among the plants, and Jade tenses, preparing for a fight.
A long shape darts by, and his gaze tracks. The markings on it glow teal, peering through the murk--he recognizes it at once, relaxing.
"Floyd."
The name bubbles up and breaks upon the surface of the stream.
His twin circles him, his weaving tail sending Jade's jacket billowing. One is in the body of a human and the other, in their true form.
Floyd wordlessly grins, showing teeth like knives.
Behind him, the shadows swirl--a mess of writhing, squishy limbs and agonized moans. Tentacles, tentacles, painting a canvas with darkness.
A voice calls from somewhere in the void.
Floaty, far away.
"... de....... ade..."
"Jade!!"
He snaps awake, drawing in a deep gulp of air. As if he had just arisen from a dive.
Jade is seated at his workbench, blanked on either side. "Floyd, Azul..."
"We came as you had instructed, but it appears that now is not a good time," his dorm leader remarks. "You were sleeping like a log when we arrived."
"So I smashed a window with a rock and we let ourselves in!" Floyd declares proudly. Azul casts him a wary look.
"Just so you are aware, I am not to be held accountable for any damages incurred," he says hastily. "It was entirely Floyd's idea--I warned him against it and had him sign a liability form to assume any and all fees, should he ignore my advice and proceed with his ill-advised plot."
"Pfft." Jade chuckles. "My apologies. I must have become so enraptured in my project that I neglected to maintain a proper sleep schedule. The fault is mine, so I will not press charges."
Azul sighs, relieved. "Now, back to the matter at hand. For what reason have you summoned us here today?"
"Ah, that." Jade holds up his fishbowl, beaming. "I wished to share this with you both."
"Mmm, what is it?" Floyd asks, peering into the container. His face comes out the other end of it stretched wide and distorted, like the result of a funhouse mirror. "Looks like just some water to me."
"Another terrarium, I suspect." Azul pushes up his glasses as he surveys the other containers on the work bench "I see, so you've made one each in the image of the dormitories at Night Raven College. This one must be Octavinelle."
He suddenly frowns.
"Wait a minute, what is this?!" Azul thrusts a finger at a round little octopus suctioned to the inside of the bowl. The area around it is clouded with wisps of black.
"Hehehe, looks like Jade was right on the money with this one. That's so you, Azul."
"I-It is NOT!!"
"Really?" Jade's brows lift. "As I recall, you were exactly like this, tears and all, when..."
"AAAAAAAAH, stop, stooooop!! D-Don't say it, I can't bear that!!"
Jade laughs--soft and musical--granting his wailing dorm leader that single mercy. His chest is warm and full, a feeling his lies don't come close to.
I believe I’ve found myself company that is much more entertaining than any world right at my fingertips.
It’s his truth, the only one he has told this entire time.
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dazaisfountainpen · 4 months
Text
Map of Athens
Marketplace (Agora)
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Metalsmith / Dionysus Cafe / Clothier /
Central Athens
Vendor Stalls with various goods for sale:
The stalls are all bustling with activity – people coming and going, some merchants calling out to passersby, others loudly negotiating prices with customers.
There is a book merchant’s stall, dedicated to selling a variety of scrolls imported from Alexandria. Upon closer inspection, you can see that there is a range of everything from books on philosophy to books full of plays and poetry. The owner of the stall watches you with a friendly gaze, her smile stretching and moving the ink on her tattooed cheek. Unlike many of the merchants calling out to people passing by with baskets both empty and full, she doesn’t try pressuring you to buy anything.
Moving on, you pass a stall that startles you, but only for a moment. There are live chickens and rabbits in cages, and the stall is lined with pelts in what seem like every shape, size, and color. The man sitting on a stool there – presumably the owner of the stall – looks at you. He has pleasant eyes, but there is something about him that urges you to keep your feet moving.
You pause at the next stall, long enough to watch two soldiers pass by. Their demeanor appears leisurely as they stroll among the stalls, but you’ve been told that their job is to guard the city. You’re sure that their outward calm belies their readiness to leap into action if need be. They move out of sight, and you turn back to the stall in front of you. “Welcome!” The woman who addresses you wears a big, friendly smile. She is cutting thick slices of bread heavy with fruit and nuts. “It would be a shame not to enjoy it while it’s hot,” she explains at your look of confusion when she holds the slice out to you. “And if you like it, it means you might come back for more.”
Gulls cry out as they circle overhead. You know that the sea is not far; you can smell the salt in the air. “What’s the point in lookin’ if you don’t plan on buyin’?” She’s a little intimidating, the merchant you’ve happened upon next. Sinewy and tanned, she wears an eyepatch, and you wonder – silently – if she might be a pirate. Her stall showcases strings upon strings of salted fish. From the huge barrels placed around her area, you hear occasional splashing and surmise there are also live fish for sale.
You pause for a moment, taking it all in and contemplating the goods available for purchase.
Encounters
Once per group/session, you may roll a die to determine a background event.
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(Click on the alt text for more information)
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year
Note
Could we possibly be fed with more sea monster/creature reader? Mayhaps how we met Yan handler?
(I'll come back to the meet in another post cuz I had this cute idea I wanted to share first)
Sunlight pours into aquarium as the tank's latch is unlocked, rolling over your scales with a new shine. The tank was a glass box all around, but the bullet proof window above blocked out the harsher, nurturing rays. You turn over onto your back to give your frontside the same treatment.
It was heaven - just the right amount of comfort to drag you back into the depths of sleep if it hadn't been for the gentle knocking on the side of the tank. It's soft enough to not cause you discomfort, but loud enough that you can't fall back asleep.
So much for a lazy weekend.
Kicking yourself into an upright position, you swim to the top of the tank and pop your head out of the water. It's a Sunday, so the aquarium should be empty, but there was the unfortunate reality that the park's staff still existed. Before you can express your anger in the form of a snarl or gnashing teeth, a strip of fish meat bides your stalker another blissful second of your silence.
"Good morning to you too, Starfish. I'm glad there's something that keeps you from clawing my face off every morning. Not that I mind. Spit?"
You spit the fish bones into the human's hands. The freak gleefully pockets the remains, probably keeping them to add to the necklace around their neck. They wipe off their hand on their jeans and face the cart behind them.
"Are you ready for your walk?"
You circle around in your tank and slap at the wall with your webbed hands, splashing water all over them. Since you were forced to be awake, you'd take anything over the monotony of your spacious prison. Your handler just laughs at your response and shakes their head.
"I don't understand what that means, Y/n. Use your words."
Your tongue clicks against the rough of your mouth as you hiss. "Now...."
The handler wants to slap themself for not having their camera ready at all times. Thank God the security cameras can pick up the buzzing of a fly.
"I'll take that, for now. Time for some fresh air. They wheel the cart up to the tank and hold out their arms. "Your chariot, and servant await."
Making another lap around the walls, you leap over the side of the tank and into the cart with their assistance - sinking to its blue floor. The water is a little cooler than the tank, but it reminds you of the sea on a autumn day. Your tail hangs out of it as you get comfortable. Your handler bents down to whisper in your ear.
"Remember our deal. Keep your head down when others walk by, no trying to escape, and no biting or else you have to wear the muzzle."
You hated that thing. It's not like you could get far if you tried to flee anyway. You've already tried. Your handler takes your silence as an agreement, and closes the lid of your tank as they wheel you off into the park. Their boss was strict about uniform even on slow days, but their new haircut and other cosmetic touch ups made this feel like what it was in their mind rather than an assigned duty. A midmorning stroll with their fiesty, aquatic love.
You don't do much during the walk besides look around and hiss at the occasional seagull. It's mostly stuff you'd seen before, but it still feels brand new when you only experience it once a week. Halfway through the walk, your handler figures now would be the perfect opportunity to work on your speaking skills.
"Red."
"Blue."
"You're supposed to repeat after me, but it's good you're speaking at all. Please follow me this time."
Why should it matter? You're learning their language, and it doesn't seem to be required as during your performances you're never asked to speak.
"Goodmorning"
"Morning."
"Thank you"
"Thank..'
"I love you."
"...liar."
Should've known it wouldn't be easy to trick you like that. Still, your choice of wording makes their heart ache. Your situation was hard on you both. They wanted you home too. Your handler plays off the pain with another laugh.
"Has Marcy been hanging around your tank again? I swear, that's the only word she knows after we caught her stealing lunches again. Looks like we're here."
Your handler parks your cart at the cliffside overlooking the city. Your home was only a mile way, waves pocketed by the land foundation that streches farther than depth perception can tell. So close, yet so far. The rocks below made jumping impossible not to mention the roads and people in the way. Air bubbles float to the surface as you submerge yourself in the icy cold water. Your handler rests a hand over the glass.
"I know you're suffering right now, Starfish. I'm doing everything I can to make this better for you, but someday you'll be free again. You'll never have to see another human besides me and you'll finally be home."
From the look in their eyes and past declarations - you are well aware they don't mean the ocean.
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marwhoa · 1 year
Text
request: none! (well technically so, technically not!)
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🝮 little drabbles !
tmnt x readers; usually rottmnt
author’s note: hi! I haven’t been givin y’all anything lately, and me and my bestie *cough @tmntxthings cough* have a shared document for little writes and ideas we randomly have! Figured I’d give y’all some as an apology for my heavy lack of new writing :))) Also fair warning, my Drabble writing is very “bare bones” kind of ideas :)) not usually as descriptive as my published fics.
word count: I don’t feel like it :))
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┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey x Mermaid!Y/N
Mikey secretly sneaks off at night to be by the water, listening to it and watching its waves crash against the dock he sat upon. Legs kicked, disturbing the water’s surface.
He notices something disturb the waves with a splash, one that gave the oddest feeling that it wouldn’t have been a little fish. It stirs his curiosity—not enough to dare a dip into the water, though. He can’t swim, so why would he do something so foolish?—but my do his eyes search the inky abyss for it’s disruption. This night lends to no answers and neither does the next.
Imagine his amazement one day, finding the suspicious splash reoccur each time he visits the dock, but this particular day, he sees something—someone?—gazing at him with wondrous eyes and a friendly smile. It was a shine like that of a child discovering something amazing.
Bonus idea:
Mikey and his brothers are fighting villain by the docks. He gets knocked off and at first, they’re like “!! Mikey! Ah, he’ll come back up, we need to keep going” and then Donnie freezes and is like “… He’s a box turtle.” And they’re like what? “He’s a box turtle—They-They don’t SWIM, THEY DON’T SWIM, MIKEY—“
They turn towards the water, ready to leap in, when suddenly Mikey comes up and they’re like “??!?!? How?!”
Pushing him up are the frantic arms of a mermaid. All brothers are speechless, Mikey’s unconscious. Y/N stares at them then gestures frantically to the passed-out brother, trying to tell them, “ help him! give him air! do it, land creatures! “
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie x Y/N
(apocalypse angst, tw for detail)
Donnie was holding Y/N’s lifeless body in their arms, screaming at them in misdirected frustration, “WHY WERE YOU EVEN HERE, YOU NEVER BELONGED IN THE BATTLEFIELD! I TOLD YOU TO ST… TO STAY… “ He chocked on the heavy sobs and screams, wiping at his running nose, and spiraling downwards until all he could do is hold your body so tight. His screams are heard for as far as possible, compromising his position to the enemy, but there was nothing that could stop his wails.
Surrounding him are alerted Kraang monsters. Whirring, cawing, screeching—all painfully obvious signs that he’s unsafe, that he should be getting away, escaping—tucking tail and running!
And yet he doesn’t stop screaming at you, wiping hair out of your face roughly. “Open your eyes—open your GOD DAMN EYES, Y/N, PLEASE.” An alien appendage stabs through the flesh of his shoulder, jerking him forward and then back—away from you—as it violently shlunks out of the wound, but he couldn’t care less. His voice raises, cracking under the pressure as he yanks away and scrambles back to what was once you. He begs you to wake up, to please please just get up, you guys needed to get out of here!
Over and over again, he begs.
And he begs.
And he begs.
Begs until it’s the last thing he can say before blood fills his mouth and the last bit of life is drained out.
“ Please… “
His voice is weak, far from the strength you ever knew it had.
“ I’… “
“ I’m sorry, ju… just o… p… ”
“ open… your eyes… “
There’s just something about that inconsolable sadness, where they hold the body of someone once so full of love, begging in frustration that they please, PLEASE come back.
The choked sobs, the heavy wails, the desperation to hold them no matter the danger.
Trying their hardest to never let them out of their grasp as if that somehow symbolized facing the truth in its entirety, the truth that you were gone.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie x Y/N
(apocalypse angst again)
Donnie’s in his lab. It’s the apocalypse. He’s tinkering away on his gear, when one of his devices dings, indicating a video has been sent. This happens whenever his tech breaks, turns off, when their location changes drastically, if he set it to do so, etc. Many reasons, so he thinks nothing of it.
He doesn’t even realize the smaller screen beside his monitor shows one of his bands have been broken, gone offline, and stopped monitoring the heartbeat and life signature of a particular someone.
He clicked on the video, planning to let it play in the background—maybe it picked up something interesting or helpful with turning the tide of this war.
He watches with a bored expression as the display boots up, until he realizes he recognizes the voice. It’s Y/N’s wristlet that sent the video in? He hadn’t even noticed she was out. Donnie casts a glance behind him, as if doing so would make her appear at his doorway, laughing loudly as she beamed her signature smile and shattered his ears with her loud voice (that he would never admit he loved, never, never ever!)
His attention is brought back to the video as she says something. “What…?” He whispers, looking down and grabbing his mouse to rewind. “What did you say…?” He whispers, leaning in with his head heavy against his palm while his elbow’s leaning into the metal desktop.
A grunt echoes through the video’s wavering audio—a mental note to update their decibel limiters is made—before an obscenity slips her lips and she growls out a, “It was risky, but Donnie will know what to do!”
He gives a prideful grin at that, chuckling as he closes his eyes and replays that in his head. ‘ Donnie will know what to do ‘ is probably the smartest thing she’s ever said, he thinks, humming a bit too peacefully. He’s brought back to his senses as her scream crackles through the recording. He stares wide-eyed at the monitor as the view of a Kraang Commander “Bot” looks down at her. Donnie grabs the sides of the computer screen, clutching tightly as he yells, “Get out of there!”, ignoring that she wouldn’t be able to hear him at all. He watches helplessly as he hears her struggle and scream, yelling insults and cursing, shouting, “For the Revolution!!” before a loud thud and crack. The video’s display has streaks through it and discoloration, indicating damage done to the wristlet. The one /attached to her arm/. Tears well up in his eyes as he shouts, “NO!” as the bot’s foot slams down, disconnecting the transmission entirely. That must have been when the file was sent to him.
He glanced over at the monitor for life signatures, seeing Y/N’s listed as “Undetectable”. Donnie feels himself become weak and light-headed. Anything on his table promptly meets the floor in a fit of rage.
Why her, he mutters.
Why was she out, he yells.
The only thing that calms him is the silhouette that appears in his doorway. He turns, shouting, “Get out, now isn’t the time!” Only to hold his breath as Y/N stands breathless and tattered up, leaning into the doorway as if it were the only thing holding her up. Frankly, based on her state, it probably was. She grins tiredly, shaking a strange circuit board in her hands. “Wh-Why the long face, Don… Donnie? Ah, sorry, I’m… H-Hey, is that my transmitter’s—“ Her eyes roll back as she slumps forward.
Y/N WOULD'VE hit the floor, if not for the desperate hold the genius Donatello had on her. He had sprinted across the room and opened his arms to her desperately. Whatever trinket she brought in could wait, slipping from her weak fingertips to think against the floor.
Best believe as soon as she woke up, a huge scolding was in place! She gave him the scare of a lifetime.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — 2012!Donnie x Y/N
(are you sensing who my favorite character is yet?)
I’ve had this idea for a while for 2012 donnie where y/n is his computer that got some mutagen on it
And then y/n crawls out of the fried computer, glitching all around the room before finally settling above donnie and being like “wooo !! It feels so nice to be able to be free now hey did you know you type really hard like REALY hard oh my gosh it was like a jackhammer on my back and omg your brother the orange one has the stickiest fingers ever just tap tap tapping and getting all my keys sticky oh but hey you always do your best to make sure I’m functional you’re so cool for that! Wanna know some cool funfacts? Searching Google Databases for Fun Facts, loading, ding! Hey, did you kn—“ and he’s just like “ I don’t know if I should be amazed at this literal super computer person or angry that someone more annoying than Mikey has appeared…”
Donnie’s just throwing a wrench across the room, apologizing when he hears Y/N squeak. Turns to see a part of their body glitching out from metal touching them. This tech hes working on won’t work, so they zap on over, floating above his head and leaning on top just for fun, then just goes “Searching Circuitry 62KBLG3.78K Guides on Google Database” and he’s like “What? Did you just identify—never mind that, what issue is there?” And they give a big happy grin, floating above the circuitry and holding a hand out, “One second!” They cheerfully exclaim, zapping out of the air instantly and making sparks come off the scraps he’s working on. Mans panics like holy hell what just happened where did they go when WHOOSH, the tech boots up and their body zzts out. Hands in the air gleefully, they’re like, “Finished! I did it, Donatello!” And he’s all giddy like whoa! You did?!? How did you??? And boom, friendship flourishes!
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Casey x Y/N
(Betcha didn’t expect that?)
Y/N and Casey are out on a mission, they’re in charge of being stealth scouts given that their slick stealth abilities—best of their line.
The scene takes a turn for the worst when they’re in an overgrown building, trying to get a better angle to the scene, to the place they’re contemplating a hit on. The two of them enter a slo-mo state as a kraang tendril juts out from the middle of no where and nics Y/N in the face.
They stumble back and the two share a split second of locked-eyes before quickly making a break for it—their position has been compromised, Casey shouts through his mic. He grabs Y/N’s hand and yanks them with him as he makes a sharp turn, knowing full and well that sharp turns are their weak point. They’re trying to get to a “safe” space, running through the dilapidated halls and crumbling floors. Ahead of them is the opening, a large, long-since shattered window. If they could just leap through that, then the tech around their wrists would give them the boost they needed to escape.
So they focus on that, running as fast as possible—occasionally stumbling or falling through the floor. One helps the other, leaving no one behind.
They’re almost at the edge when an ear-splitting screech stuns Y/N for one second too many. The alien appendage slices across their thigh, rubberbanding through the wound and back to the monster behind them in a fashion similar to a serrated knife.
Y/N screams out, Casey stalls. He pivots on his foot, rushing back to them and reaches out for their hand. He can carry them, he can take it. No one gets left behind, especially not them.
Y/N shakily but swiftly takes his hand, ready to quickly pick up slack so as to not jeopardize them.
But, right before they’re hoisted up onto their feet, their blood runs cold as the monster’s tendril shlunks into Casey’s shoulder, jerking his body back. Away from Y/N, leaving their hand cold, and soon their heart heavy as his feet stumble right off the window’s crumbling edge. The alien’s ligament yanks out of his body as the boy slips down. He’s gone, so fast, as if he wasn’t standing in front of them a second ago.
Y/N is filled with adrenaline immediately as they scream so loudly that their ears ring, the wavering sound in their eardrums could never match the pain in their chest as they stumble and rush to the edge, leaping off and narrowly dodging the next attack sent their way. Falling through the air, the grappling hook around their wrist lets out a series of beeps as it detects an uncharacteristic descent, instantly swinging out to attach to nearby rock and rubble stacked firmly. Y/N ungracefully slams into the wall, scrambling for footing with an injured leg before they began their aided swing down, searching everywhere for Casey. He’s no where to be seen, the further they go and still no sign of him!
Their feet plant firmly into the ground, hundreds of feet below the building’s drop, yet still no Casey. Tears are welling up as they throw caution to the wind and cry out his name.
“ Casey! “
No answer.
“ Casey, god—god damn it, please! Where.. “
No answer, they rub their eyes harshly of the spilling tears.
“ Where are you, CASE—“
A hand clamps against their mouth. A soft yet injure—familiar, too— voice whispers into their ear, and they can’t help but melt into the hold, back pressed against his chest.
“ Y/N, you know how dangerous.. dangerous that is, don’t shout in Kraang territory..”
“ Casey! “
They hugged him tight, excruciatingly so. Scares in the apocalypse were the worst.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey x Y/N
(apocalypse au)
Y/N sits under an old abandoned monument, around the same time as always, telling the sculpture about their day because they have no one else to listen and tell it to, being that they’re a humble nobody living outside of society in a little abode deep in a quiet forest.
One day, on a particularly heavy day, they’re telling the monument about what they saw when they went towards the city—it seemed as though there was an apocalypse of sorts beginning, so back home they ran, fearing that one day the apocalypse would encroach on their home.
When that happens, they worry what will become of their beloved friend, the unspeaking sculpture.
Sending it time to return home, they wipe their teary eyes, glance again at the stone smile of a long-forgotten hero, and leans into them for a hug.
As they do, suddenly there’s a rush of gravity. Arms wrap securely around their shooken frame as they pmf gently into the grassy beds below.
“ Whoa…”
Says the sculpture, glancing down to stare are their patron with a smile. Orange eyes flicker with a friendliness as he caresses their cheek.
“ Finally, I’m free to do this..”
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Someone x unhinged!villain!Y/N
Villain!Y/N, menacing and feral. Always avoids the cops—always. That includes the brothers. You don’t really terrorize New York that often, so tbh they forget that there’s a real top shooter within their zip code.
They’ve tried to fight you once before and basically got that you are your own form of chaotic lawful, kind of like a real Robin Hood one step away from immoral, unethical. So, deeming you a step behind Hero, they leave you to your own devices. After all, most antics of yours only bring harm to their enemies, never really innocents, so of course they wouldn’t make you a priority.
One day, one of the brothers is in a real conundrum—cornered, isolated, and taken off guard. The tides of the battle teeter both ways, not exactly lending anyone an upper hand, until this player strikes a good hit to the dude’s jaw.
Imagine their shared fear when something a few paces away catches their attention: a figure, silhouetted by the light behind them, wearing a maniacal expression with a substance dripping their hands.
“Come now,”
Crack of the neck, sickeningly so,
“That one’s mine. What high horse you on to be scruffin up what’s mine, baller?”
The fighter lasts only a second of surprise, twinged with fear, before you’re in their face with frighteningly fast speed, hand gripping their face in a way that seems like slow-mo to the downed brother. He watches the fighter get risen and then slammed into the ground. Silence plateaus until finally he speaks up,
“ … Thanks? “
“ Thanks? “
You respond confusedly, eyes glinting with an emotion softer than the wild-child energy it usually embodies.
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That’s all for now :)) thank you for reading uwu
If there’s any of these that you’d like to see as a longer fic, just ask I guess.
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