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sanccharine · 2 years

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drift away | jh

high school au

pairing: jihyo x gn!reader ft best friend!mina

genre: angst, little fluff ?

word count: 1k

warnings: none :]

summary: your final day at school arrives with heavy feelings and difficult decisions

song rec: drift away omnichord cover by trillian

a/n: tbh i don't know if that summary has anything to do with the fic bc i suck at writing summaries but i'm back :D

The moment fresh air kissed your face, you relaxed. The glass door creaked close behind you as you skipped down the steps. Sitting down on the last concrete step, you pulled your knees to your chest. Your cotton sleeves seemed to be cutting into you as if they intended to squeeze you until they saw bones. You don’t know why it was so suffocating, considering it had fit you perfectly when you had bought the outfit for the dance. Picking at the cuffs, you exhaled deeply before running your hand down your face, not caring one bit about the ‘just a small dash of makeup to liven up your face’ that Mina had gracefully applied for you, not that you asked.

With your knees digging into your arms and the soles of your feet aching from dancing, you sat on the stairs at the entrance of your school’s auditorium, staring at the quiet parking lot ahead. The summer wind ruffled your hair while behind you muffled music played. Every note filled you with melancholy as you thought about what will happen when the last song finally plays.

A thousand thoughts—questions—swirled in your mind. All with answers you knew, but wanted to ignore desperately.

You were never one for the sentimental type, or so you thought. However, now, sitting at the stairs in front of your high school, on the last night you’d spend on these grounds, and the last chance you’d get to stand opposite to Jihyo, you began to actualise just how much was coming to an end. You dreaded every second that ticked away, quickly falling through the cracks of your fingers like grains of sand, as the insurmountable weight of your thoughts only kept growing.

When you arrived at this dance, you had come with a goal in mind: confess to Jihyo about your feelings.

The idea of her never knowing how you felt seemed worse than never becoming something more than friends in her eyes. At the start of the evening, you were so ready, so confident, and you’d promised yourself that you would confess but as the night grew darker, your confidence kept slipping away in small increments.

When you did ask Jihyo to dance with you, she accepted with a bright smile plastered on her face. When the two of you had run circles around the dance floor, the mirth in her eyes never left. When the songs changed, became slower, at the peak of the night, when you were sure you’d confess… you choked. Terror set in, and you froze. All the words you’d rehearsed, all the sleepless nights building up to this moment shattered in front of you.

Jihyo would never love you.

She couldn’t… not the way you love her.

Unfortunately, Jihyo was perceptive and instantly she asked if you were doing well. Shaking your head with a pitiful smile, you let her get snatched up by someone else before you had run away. This brings you to the moment right before you, closed in on yourself on rough concrete stairs as your eyes burned furiously.

Tears began to fall as you curled into yourself, sobs sending shivers down your shoulders. You didn’t know why you were crying, you hadn’t thought that you’d be here at this state at the end of the night, but here you were, utterly inconsolable.

Songs shifted and your tears began to slow. Snivelling, you were drying yourself on your sleeve when someone wordlessly sat beside you. Had you been crying so hard you failed to realise that someone had come out?

A glance to your right told you everything; a simple peach dress, dark hair falling in relaxed waves and beautiful white heels being pried off her feet in haste. The corner of your lips twitched into your elbow as you turned your gaze onto your high school logo ahead of you.

“Swear to god, why did it have to be a formal event?” Mina said, no doubt rolling her eyes while placing her heels neatly to the side. “Why couldn’t our theme have been onesies or something?”

You scoffed automatically and had to catch yourself, you were philosophically sombre, just pathetically sad, and desperately and completely inconsolable in this gloomy moonless night… or so you tried to convince yourself before letting out another snort. You didn’t know how she did it every time, but Mina, once again, cracked through your surface effortlessly. With a wide grin, she moved forward to peer at your face which was hiding behind your arms.

Shaking your head, you entertained her and mumbled into your sleeve. “I’d pay you any amount of money to see you attend this event with that otter onesie of yours.”

“Deal! Let me just run to my car—” Mina threw her head back with laughter when your own shot up in shock before snapping to her car that was parked not far from your sight. Coming down from her laughter, she smiled. “I’m serious though, I always have it in my trunk, for emergencies.”

“Emergencies, right.” You chuckled, before turning to her. She was still smiling, but the worry in her eyes was enough of a question. “I didn’t tell her, I couldn’t… I don’t—I don’t know why.”

Mina scooted closer to you, still waiting for you to continue before offering any care.

“I asked her to dance. She said yes. We danced, I was happy. She smiled and I was… happy, I was ready!” You gripped your sleeves, blunt nails digging into covered skin. “Then I stopped, pulled back to look at her and the words just didn’t—I just couldn’t say them. And of course, she noticed, asked me if I’m okay, but I just said that I was tired and left and… here I am.”

With the last word, you sighed at the sky, hoping that looking up would keep the tears from falling. You were scared, so scared of the future, of the world you know that you’ll have to leave behind, the people you’ll leave behind and miss when you part ways and eventually forget they even meant something in your life.

Sighing beside you, Mina silently scooted even closer to you before wrapping both her arms around you and pulling you to her. She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as you snaked your arms around her as well. You weren’t sure how many seconds passed with the two of you holding each other under the endless sky, but you would’ve been happy to stay there forever.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: honestly, not the best,,,,kinda rushed and not just the fic, like the banner is just not right O_O but whatever i wanted to post :] hope you enjoyed this and have a good day/night !!

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

#mala's collection #sanccharine #ficscafe #jihyo x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #kpop imagines #jihyo imagines #jihyo angst #jihyo fluff #high school au #drift away

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innepttia · 2 years

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Sunbathing and shrios for the prompts? 👀

This was supposed to be a micro story (original post here!), but here's 500 words about Thane sunbathing instead.

In case anyone in the Shrios community hasn't seen it yet... @angstyastro is drawing some bonkers Thane pics and tbh I'm thirsting. I've adopted a couple of features from their Thane (with permission!!!!) and we get a little sneak peak here.

Suns Out, Buns Really Fucking Hot Assassin Abs Out

Walking down the shuttle ramp, stretching and turning her face up to the sun, Shepard felt a couple of joints satisfyingly pop. They spent too long cramped in the ship and while she was nearly dozing off at the galaxy map, she stumbled across this planet. Inhabited, desert, fueling station.

After a brief almost-altercation with Joker about fueling up planetside (“You know we fuel up, in space, right? We don’t land on planets to do that anymore. Did that last mission knock something loose in your head?”) and announcing a mandatory shore leave, they were on their way.

Shepard took in a deep, unadulterated lungful of air. Not recycled; pure. She let it out with a smile. The sun was warm and she felt vindicated in this choice, fully intending to rub it in Joker’s face after their 24 hours of tanning, drinking, and whatever else the crew wanted to get up to.

A glimmer of emerald green sparkled in the corner of her eye. Her mouth dropped open.

Two ramshackle chairs were set up on the side of the Normandy, one already occupied by Thane. He was lounging, lounging, in that shitty little chair like it was a throne… and he was… her brain just about melted out of her ears.

He was shirtless, jacketless, and damned near pantless (the shorts he wore barely qualified as bottoms). The sun soaked into his black scales while bouncing off in shimmering arcs along his green scales. It was confusing to her human eyes, but she couldn't stop staring. His eyes were closed and he seemed more in his element than ever.

“You might wanna close your mouth there, Shep,” Jack said from behind her on the ramp. “Something might fly in there.”

She snapped her mouth shut with an audible crack of her teeth.

“Nice.” Jack let out a snort and rolled her eyes.

“Uhh-” Shepard hurriedly tried to think of something, anything, to say.

“There’s two chairs over there,” Jack thankfully interrupted her. “Why don’t you go sit your ass down in one and stop being so fuckin’ weird.” Shepard glanced over at him and made a little noise in the back of her throat.

She haltingly made her way over to him, leaving a small crowd behind to watch her. She prayed to whatever god was listening that Jack didn’t shout anything lewd and make her more nervous.

Her eye caught on two black stripes along his abdomen, leading her eye lower and lower and lower until they disappeared under the top of his pants. Suddenly everything felt hot and clammy, something she would entirely blame on the sun, but was clearly her internal processors running at max capacity.

“Siha,” he said in a soft voice. Shepard had to snap her eyes up to his face, trying desperately to come up with an excuse as to why she was blatantly staring at his- “Join me?” Thane was smiling up at her, almost as bright as the sun.

She smiled back.

“I would love to.”

#shrios #this is like before they bang but after they confess their feelings for each other #awk pining ensues #femshep #thane krios #commander shepard #mass effect #fanfic prompt #acrylicsalts-inspo #long post #sare shouts into the void

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asroarke · 6 years

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Hey Alex. Your fics completely cheer up whenever I'm in a depressive state. I've read them all so many times. They're incredible. Unfortunately, my boyfriend broke up with me a month ago I guess hes an ex now and I'm confused and broken and Ive been listening non stop to ed sheeran's song "Happier". I was wondering if you could write post break up bellarke fic based kinda on the song, but with a happy ending from bellamys pov? I need a pick me up and a little bit of hope in my life tbh..

I’m really sorry to hear about your break up! That’s rough. Also, side note, that song made me cry. I had never heard it before. So, the happy ending is kind of ambiguous in this fic, but I fully intended for you to assume that the last conversation goes well and they end up back together. I hope you like it! It ended up being more angsty than I had originally planned. [ao3]

He wasn’t planning on stopping by Octavia’s party, using thefact that he was working late as his excuse. But when Pike announced thatBellamy could clock out early, he knew that he had to at least swing by. IfOctavia found out that his schedule opened up and he didn’t stop by, he’d neverhear the end of it.

It wasn’t like Clarke ever stayed at parties long, anyway.He probably wouldn’t even see her. She likely left an hour ago, since she was probablytoo tired from a shift at the hospital or had one early tomorrow morning. So,he took a few deep breaths before heading over to his sister’s apartment.

The party was still raging on when he walked through the door,and Miller immediately put a beer in his hand. “How have you been?” he asked,and Bellamy just shrugged. Miller looked over at Jackson, and Bellamy didn’tmiss the concerned look they exchanged. Yeah, they were worried about him, buthe was fine.

“There you are!” Octavia shouted before he heard the soundof her loud feet rushing toward him. He turned to be ready for her hug, chucklingquietly at her excitement to see him. “Isn’t this a fun party? You’re so happyyou came, right?” she asked, her words slurring together, and he had to fightnot to roll his eyes. She was drunk.

“Yes,” he replied, patting her on the head as he surveyedthe room. No sign of Clarke, thank God. He wouldn’t know what he would say toher if he saw her again. It was inevitable that he would, so he probably shouldfigure something out. But he needed more time to get over the sting of losingher.

He plastered on a smile as Octavia dragged him through theapartment by his hand and introduced him to all her work friends he hadn’t metyet. She ditched him to go whine to Lincoln about something, and Bellamysettled in next to Murphy as he downed the last of his beer. He looked over hisshoulder into the kitchen, spotting those fake margarita beer drinks that Octaviahad recently gotten upset with and let out a sigh. “The good stuff is out onthe patio,” Murphy explained, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” he muttered before making his way out there.

He probably should have known that there would be one or twopartygoers who would be out there. It’s the only quiet place to be at anOctavia Blake party. Bellamy had ducked out here enough times to know that.

But nothing could have prepared him for finding Clarke andRoan out there together.

He freezes for a moment at the sight of Clarke curledup against him with her legs in his lap. It took him a moment to realize thatshe was asleep, and he probably would have laughed at the fact that ClarkeGriffin fell asleep at yet another party if it weren’t for the fact that shewas literally sleeping on Roan.

He clenched his jaw as he fished out a beer from the cooler.He shouldn’t actually be surprised. He and Clarke broke up. She was going tostart seeing other people. He couldn’t have pushed her away any harder, if hewas being honest with himself. But Bellamy had somehow put the prospect ofClarke moving on out of his thoughts, meaning he was blindsided by this.

“Oh hey, man,” Roan said, tearing his eyes away from hisphone to nod at Bellamy. Bellamy nodded back, grinding his teeth together as hedid. Without a word, he walked back into the apartment and took a seat at theempty kitchen table, one of the few spots in the room that gave him a decentview of what was happening on the patio. Maybe he just wanted to torturehimself, but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the two of them as Roan’shand traced up and down Clarke’s back.

“Didn’t you start this whole thing?” Jasper asked as he saton the table, swinging his legs back and forth so that he occasionally hitBellamy.

“Yes,” he huffed, and Clarke started to stir outside. Sherubbed her eyes as she pushed herself up, and Roan put his phone down to saysomething that caused Clarke to erupt into laughter. His chest panged as he sawher bright smile. He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw her smile likethat.

“So, why are you acting like she broke up with you?” Jaspermuttered, and Bellamy took his eyes off Clarke for a moment to glare up at him.

“Jasper, I’m not in the mood,” he snapped. When his eyesreturned to the window, Roan and Clarke had stood up and were facing away fromhim. Both her hands were braced on the railing in front of her, but Roan wasstill rubbing her back.

The fact that it was Roan shouldn’t have surprised Bellamy.He had always had the suspicion that Roan was attracted to Clarke, and it wasn’tlike he could blame Clarke for becoming interested in him once she becamesingle. He was an attractive guy, one that her mother would definitely approveof. He’d probably fit more into Clarke’s world than Bellamy ever did.

Jasper was still mumbling something when Bellamy pushed awayfrom the table. He wasn’t going to sit there all night watching theex-girlfriend he was still in love with flirt with Roan, so he ducked into thekitchen, which was empty. He hopped up onto the counter and let out a breath.

He tried to distract his mind, but the image of themtogether kept popping up in his head again. Bellamy could see them together soclearly, now. Roan didn’t pick fights with Clarke like Bellamy did, no, he wasfar more relaxed and easygoing. He was also not the kind of guy to screw aroundwhen it came to talking about how he felt. Clarke must love that since shedoesn’t have to guess what Bellamy’s thinking anymore or deal with his freakouts when things got a little too serious. She found herself someone who wouldbe upfront with her, and it’s what she deserves.

He pressed his lips together as he heard the patio doorswing open. “Jasper, are you ready for more shots?” he heard Roan tease, andBellamy threw his head back. God, Roan was even more fun around Bellamy’sfriends. “Clarke?”

“Oh, God no,” Clarke giggled, and it was such a sweet, happysound… and why wouldn’t it be? Clarke seemed to be happy, probably happier thanshe had been with Bellamy. There was a quiet mumbling out there as Bellamyheard Jasper skip after Roan. “What?” he heard Clarke say, and he hit his headagainst the cabinet behind him.

He fucked up. God, he fucked up. He was falling too hard andfast for her and got scared. Everything with Clarke felt so natural and normal,and it scared him how easily he could get comfortable with her, especiallygiven how things went with Echo and Gina in the past.

All he could remember was how much he hurt before, and hisstupid, stupid self did what healways did: pushed her away before she could push him away. And now she was gone.He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for the way he picked that fight.

He was taking another swig of his drink when Clarke strodeinto the kitchen, freezing as soon as she saw him. Her brows furrowed as shegave him a once over, and his heart pounded as he waited for her to saysomething.

“Octavia said you had to work tonight,” she finally settledon, and he fought not to roll his eyes at the fact that the two of them couldonly seem to make small talk now.

“My shift ended early, so I stopped by,” he shrugged, andshe nodded along. Her brows were still furrowed, and he could tell that she hadsomething to say to him. But of course, his jealousy was still festering underthe surface and he said, “You seemed to have a good nap outside.”

Her eyes widened at him, and he immediately regretted it.She was free to do whatever the hell she wants, after all. He shouldn’t try tomake her feel bad for moving on. But of course, he always said the wrong thingat every given opportunity.

“It was a long day,” she settled on, and he nodded along, keepinghis eyes fixed on the almost empty beer in his hand. “Actually, I was just aboutto leave. I should go find your sister before I go,” she muttered beforeturning to leave, and Bellamy hit his head on the cabinet again, cursinghimself for pushing her away again.

He listened as Clarke gave her goodbyes to their friends. Montysaid something to make her laugh, and he found a smile tugging at his lips whenhe heard that beautiful sound. She talked with Harper, he thinks, for a minute…and the ease with which she speaks to everyone causes his chest to pang. Sheused to be able to talk to him that way.

Maybe he should find a way to be happy for her. After all,she seemed happier now with Roan. And Clarke deserved to be happy. He wantedher to be so happy.

When the front door shut, he let out a breath. He survivedseeing Clarke tonight, barely. The panging in his chest probably wouldn’t goaway any time soon, though he wasn’t sure if it ever left.

He was coming up with excuses to leave the party too whenRoan came into the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you?” Roan snorted.

“Nothing,” Bellamy lied.

“So, it has nothing to do with the fact that you saw me withyour ex?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as he filled a cup with ice.

“Clarke can date whoever she wants,” he replied.

“I’m not dating Clarke,” Roan corrected, and Bellamy hatedhow easy his own face gave his reaction away. Roan smirked at him, pleased thathe had finally broken Bellamy out of his fake indifference. “I don’t make ahabit of dating girls who are still in love with their exes.”

“Clarke isn’t—”

“She is,” he interrupted. “It’s annoying, honestly. Fulloffense intended, you were a dick to her in the end.”

“I know,” he huffed, throwing his head back. He didn’t needthis lecture from Roan when he had been giving it to himself all night. “It’show I know she isn’t still hung up on me.”

“Interesting,” Roan muttered as he walked back toward thedoor, “then, why is she still in the parking lot, crying in her car?” Bellamy’shead snapped up to look at Roan, whose eyebrows were raised at him as he lookedover his shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up this time,” he huffed before walking backout to the party. Bellamy jumped to his feet, abandoning his beer on thecountertop before striding toward the front door. He didn’t bother tellinganyone where he went. Everyone was too drunk to notice he was gone, anyway.

When he got down to the parking lot, he found Clarke’s carin the very back. He jogged toward her car, and as he got closer, he could seeher talking on the phone as she wiped a few tears from her cheek. He felt sickat the realization that he was the reason she was crying. He never wanted tohurt her. After all, he loved her… probably a little too much. He was justscared.

Clarke’s eyes widened when she spotted him, and she said goodbyeto whoever she had been talking to. He stood still as she pushed herself out ofthe car, her brows furrowing in confusion as she looked up at him again. “Whatare you—”

“I miss you,” he interrupted, and her eyes softened. “I’msorry. I know I don’t get to just… Fuck,” he mumbled. He hadn’t thought throughwhat he would say to her at all. He hadn’t been thinking when he rushed downafter her. All he heard was that she was upset because of him, and he couldn’t stayaway.

“I miss you too,” she said before he could stutter anythingelse out. Her blue eyes were staring back at him, still a bit red from crying.All he wanted to do was close the distance between them and pull her to hischest.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and she bit down on her lip. Herchest was rising and falling slowly as she took a few deep breaths.

It felt like hours had passed before she whispered, “Yeah.”

A flicker of hope scorched through him as the two of them satdown on the curb. He was going to tell her everything that he didn’t saybefore. He was going to make it right. And maybe, just maybe, she’d let him tryto make her happy again.

#asks #bellarke fanfiction #prompt fill #alex does prompts sometimes #modern au #exes to lovers #exes #past relationship #break ups #angst #pining #mutual pining #bellamy pov #the 100 fanfiction #asroarke fanfiction

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get-a-new-lease-on-life · 6 years

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A New Lease on Life - #51

51: Secrets, Solutions, Certainty

Hey, Y'all! Long time, no see...again...ahem. Updates have been slowing down for a while and I'm incredibly sorry for it; it just seems like it's going to be going a while longer no matter how irritating it is. TBH, lately Real Life has been about 97% in the crapper and the remaining 3% has been spent hiding from the Flying Crap Fairy because sh*t's STILL hitting the fan. Oy. Seriously, we really need some Flying Crap Fairy repellent because we're apparently good targets. :\ Anyway, I won't bore y'all with details on this latest disaster, but Cold and I are both very lucky to even be alive right now, along with several of our closest neighbors. We came very farking close to NOT being alive anymore recently and, although Cold's shrugged it off with his usual attitude, I've been an absolute mess of nerves. I just haven't had either time or drive to sit down and write lately but hopefully things will ease up soon. (If for some weird reason you want a better explanation, no worries, just PM me on FFnet or one of my usual accounts and I'll fill ya in, no worries. Misery loves company, but Anxiety's even clingier...and no, I do not plan on including this scare in a Blocked installment.)

Anyhoo, a word of warning: this story has, from the start, been an awkward mishmash of the Bay movies universe and a few other 'verses, but as of this chapter, that mish-mash becomes heavier with 'other -verse' than previously. Specifically, we're going to be seeing a lot from the '03 series, but you don't need a good understanding of that series to follow the plot. Not everything's going to be exactly as per that canon because I'm altering some things to better fit the Bay-verse canon. Either way, I hope you'll enjoy, and hope to hear from y'all soon!

Suggested Listening: The Goo Goo Dolls "Iris," Red "Best is Yet to Come," Ashes Remain "On My Own"

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51: Secrets, Solutions, Certainty

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November 10th, afternoon

Somewhere along the line, Donatello miscalculated; where or when that miscalculation was, he had no earthly idea. All he knew for certain was this: against all odds, the most unlikely of sources brought answers to the conundrum of Amber's strange dreams of home. How this happened, the genius still wasn't sure—his head was still spinning from the unexpected admission from his father and sensei and that was hours ago.

"This…this makes no sense," Donnie muttered digging his fingertips into the bridge of his snout as though warding off a headache. "Amber's having prophetic dreams of her home world…because you saw her past?"

"That's the best explanation I can find," Splinter sighed. "Ordinarily, there should be no lasting effects, harmful or otherwise. Because she is from another reality than our own, the shared meditation technique I used may have inadvertently opened a psychic door to the world she left behind—a door she regrettably is unable to close under her own volition."

"This is insane." Donnie scoffed, his hands dropping to dangle off of his knees. At the time, he was too focused on getting answers to ask how his father could get those answers. Now… "Where did you even hear about that technique, anyway?" he asked. "It's not in any of your books about the martial arts—I checked. Where did you learn about it?"

Splinter hesitated, dark eyes focused somewhere beyond the cup of tea steaming on his low table. Perhaps…yes, the time was now. "Gather your brothers," he told Donnie calmly, "and the two young ladies as well. I hoped to put this off a little longer, but it appears the time has come."

Splinter's life began as a simple lab rat—his future should have been set in stone. Instead, he was freed, mutated, and left to fend for the four young turtles who endured the same testing he did. Every new parent faces struggles, but most will have some semblance of assistance, somewhere to turn when they needed help or advice. Splinter had no such thing…at least not to start with. That eventual assistance, while gravely needed, was something he was never sure how to explain to his boys. Now, he had no choice but to explain and hope they could understand his reasons for keeping it secret.

"You all know my training in Ninjitsu began with the discovery of a book," the aged rat related to the four mutants and two humans crowded around his bedroom. "There is, however, more to the story that I have not told you." As he spoke, he collected the book in question from his shelves and opened it to the very first page, where a cryptic inscription was scribbled in roughly-scrawled Japanese. "The book only provided the barest of essentials in ninjitsu training—one cannot learn something as complex as a martial arts discipline through the written word alone. This inscription contains coded instructions…directions on how to open a portal to another realm commonly called the Battle Nexus."

"The what now?" Leonardo shook his head in denial. "You—" Splinter shot him a stern glance, and he fell silent again.

"The Battle Nexus is a world meant to be accessed by those studying the ancient martial arts," Splinter continued seriously. "The book revealed the basics central to most martial arts disciplines then decoding the inscription therein revealed the Nexus to me. It was in that other realm that I met a powerful master of Ninjitsu—a man by the name of Hamato Yoshi—and studied under him in hopes of keeping you four safe."

"You studied under a master?" Leo repeated in disbelief. "How have we never met him? Until we met April, we were the only ones who ever found the Lair—how were you able to keep such an important visitor secret from us?"

"Master Yoshi never came to our world," Splinter explained. "I always went to his world for training—the moment you boys fell asleep, I left for an hour or two of training…" Here, he shot Michelangelo a stern frown.

"Oh, this is my part!" Mikey grinned excitedly. "Can I tell'em now? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?" Splinter rolled his eyes.

"Tell us what?" Raphael demanded.

"When we were still kids, I caught Sensei sneakin' out once," Mikey explained without once losing his grin. "I woke up to pee and when I came back to bed, I saw him walking through a glowy hole in the wall and followed him. If I told anyone, he would'a put me in the Hashi. You're lookin' at the youngest Battle Nexus Champion ever, Bruhs! OW!" After Splinter's timely brain-duster, Raph and Donnie exchanged a bewildered glance, struggling to comprehend what they were hearing. Last year, they never would have believed Mikey capable of keeping secrets to save his life, but now they had undeniable proof that he could keep them. The Hardy cousins were a sizable secret alone, but interdimensional travel and their father training with a ninja master from another world? That was pushing it.

"I always intended to tell you, my sons, when you became older," Splinter admitted with a sigh. "I just never could find a way to start that conversation…by the time you were old enough to understand, my Master Yoshi was gone, passed away, and I'd become a master myself."

"This…this is a lot to take in," Leo admitted scratching his head. "It's hard to believe you managed to keep this a secret from us so long."

"My son," Splinter asked with deceptive innocence, "which is more unbelievable: that a grumpy old rat has a few secrets left, or that he could learn everything about Ninjitsu from a book?"

Later that afternoon, everything was settled and a plan was developed, and Donatello was diligently studying the steps to opening an interdimensional portal. While he worked out his end, Amber took care of her own. Almost a year after leaving her world behind, that night, she would be going home… Why did that realization frighten her so much? For the moment, she had no answers.

"Amber?" The greeting startled the brunette from her thoughts and she turned to acknowledge the genius hovering in the kitchen doorway. "What did I miss?" She gave a sheepish smile, tugging nervously at one of the many grey locks streaking her hair—those grey locks were now hidden, disguised with bright blue and soft violet dye courtesy of Mercy's handiwork and Kimber's drink mix stash.

"I'm dead in that world," Amber reminded Donnie as he poured himself a cup of stale coffee and invited himself to the table with her. "That me looked pretty different from how I do now but the resemblance is strong enough people might panic. I need'a avoid notice while we're there, an' the easiest way to be ignored is to look like I don't belong."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Donnie remarked dubiously. "If you stand out, wouldn't you be more noticeable?"

"Not in small towns," Amber shrugged, still absently toying with the stray lock of grape violet hair. "I didn't fit in, remember? Because I didn't fit in, I was mostly ignored until Mum set her church cronies on me. If I look like I'm just another glaikit toonser,~ the locals'll trip over'emselves to ignore me~…it's safer bein' outlandish than ordinary when hidin' in a small town." Donnie tore his eyes away from the violet streaking her hair, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks. He wasn't crazy about the raspberry blue streaks, but she wore his color well…yes, purple looked very nice on his Amber.

"If you think it'll work," he sighed turning to stare down into his coffee, "then I'll trust you. You're used to the small town mentality whereas I've never been out of New York state for long." Silence filled the kitchen—cold, uncomfortable silence full of electricity and fear—until one of them was again driven to fill it.

"I'm…afraid." Amber's admission caught the genius off-guard.

"Master says the portal technique is safe, Honey," he reminded gently. "He's taught me everything he can, I'll be bringing notes just in case, and if we're not back in a week, he'll come for us himself. There's no need to be afraid."

"I'm not worried about the portal malfunctioning," she admitted with an embarrassed cringe. "I…" She faltered, took a steadying breath, then soldiered on ahead. "You don't know what I was like in my last life, Dee," she explained nervously. "You know hardly anything about that me, not even what I looked like…an' I'm not foolish enough to assume you'll make it the entire trip without ever catching a glimpse of that me in some bog-awful photo or something. I'm just not lookin' forward to that happening."

"Does it really matter?" His words were blunt but his eyes softened the blow. "It's not the body that matters, remember? The soul in that body is what's important. I highly doubt your previous appearance could have any negative effect on my affection for you." Amber stared him down over her glasses, seemingly searching for any sign he was bluffing.

"Five-foot-three in shoes," she listed off in a deadpan tone. "Over two hundred pounds. Half-crippled at thirty-five an' on the far side of awkward. Constantly slouching because of fused vertebrae. Always tired. Frequently bitching even in a good mood. My hair was almost entirely grey an' startin' to thin an' my ass was big enough to prop a lamp on. Shall I continue?"

"If you wish," he shrugged. "It makes no difference to me—you've already told me most of this and it doesn't bother me." She finally broke eye contact, her eyes sad.

"There's more, though," she admitted softly. "I told you about Aaron…I told you there was no burn there…but it wasn't always like that." Though the admission worried him at first, Donnie patiently waited for her to fill in the blanks. "Mercy an' I met Aaron when we were in grade school, but we didn't really become friends until high school. I had a massive crush on him for years but never got any sign he felt the same an' eventually let it die out."

Unbidden, her memory reminded her of the day she and Aaron found her home destroyed—reminded her of the frantic way he clung to her as the skies broke open overhead. "The day we came back to find Willsdale in ruins, he kissed me...I thought he was just tryin' to calm me down, but Mercy…" She choked up, shaking her head bitterly. "What Mercy told me today suggests otherwise. If we somehow manage to make it there before he's done'imself harm, I can't guarantee how he'll react to seein' me."

Donatello considered her posture silently a moment, thinking over her confession. "You told me you love him," he reminded solemnly, "as a friend, not as a lover."

"That's correct—he's practically my brother."

"Then you're not worried about how you'll react to seeing him, only that I'll get jealous if he gets too close?" She winced.

"You know, when ya put it like that, it sounds ridiculous," she admitted under her breath.

"That's because it is ridiculous," he teased saluting her with his mug. "Real men don't mind other men coveting their lovers, only their lovers coveting other men."* Amber laughed and gave him a cheeky smile.

"Someone's been readin' Jane Austen, huh?" she teased. "An' here I thought you were more 1984 than Northanger Abbey." Her smile faded somewhat and she turned back to her tea. "I'll be honest with ya, Speccy…I don't see this goin' well. I'm dead in that world—we can't just expect that I'll be able to go back without any repercussions, even for a short time." Donnie studied her silently—from her brightly dyed hair to the faded traces of ink visible peeking up over her modest neckline—intent on burning the moment in his memory.

"You're worried about your loved ones," he reminded gently, "and until you know they're safe, you'll keep worrying about them until it breaks you." She nodded weakly. "I refuse to watch that happen, Amber, not when I can do something to prevent it." He reached out, clasping a supportive hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to meet his eyes over her glasses. "I won't let anything happen to you," the genius swore tucking a raspberry blue lock behind her ear. "Did you call the pizza parlor?" She blinked at him in confusion, but a moment later caught up.

"Yeah," she mumbled back. "I got a week unpaid to take care of my 'family emergency' but they're cuttin' my hours for the rest of the month over it…an' if I'm not there early on my first day back I'm fired. Never thought I'd say it, but my boss is even more of a dobber~ than my Da." She shrugged, torn between a smile and a cringe. "We shouldn't need a whole week—shouldn't even need more'n a few days—but I packed extra just in case." A frustrated sigh in the doorway drew the couple's attention—Mercy hesitated on the threshold, visibly torn. "What's wrong, Merse?" Amber asked the blonde. Mercy fidgeted, mussed her hair, then soldiered forward.

"I'm not goin' with ya." Donnie blinked in surprise.

"We didn't expect ya to," Amber answered her friend slowly. "If—"

"Good," Mercy cut her off brusquely, "as long as we're clear on that. That world's got nothin' left fer me, an' I ain't goin' back." Amber and Donnie exchanged a confused glance, both hoping the other had answers and both disappointed to find they didn't. Recognizing their confusion, Mercy rolled her eyes and stalked over to the fridge to pour herself a glass of iced tea. "Asshat's sulking," she grumbled fishing out a tall glass. "He thinks I'm goin' back an' won't listen when I tell'im I ain't. If y'all have everythin' together, please just get goin' before he demands to go with." Donnie couldn't quite stifle the snort of laughter that burst up his throat, and it earned him a sharp glare from the blonde. "Git."~

"Well," Amber chuckled nervously pushing herself back from the table. "You heard the lady…guess it's time to get a move on, huh? Mind grabbin' the bags?" With a quick peck on the cheek, Donnie ducked out to collect the packed duffle bag and carry-on from his room, leaving Amber and Mercy alone in the kitchen. "I understand yer reasons for not wantin' to go," Amber said softly, "an' I respect them. Is there anythin' you want us to do fer ya while we're there? Anyone ya want checked on?" Mercy avoided her eyes.

"You know the answer to that," the blonde muttered dropping into Donnie's vacated chair. "The only people I ever really had any interaction with were you an' yer family, Aaron, an' my family…an' all that's left of my family's Ma. Anythin' material we were able to save from the ranch is gonna be with her, too, an' I ain't sendin' ya after anything. Better that ya don't have to deal with her."

"Mercy." The blonde looked up, blue eyes wide and nervous, and registered her friend's tired eyes. "It's alright to wonder…it's alright to wanna know she's safe, even after everything she did to you." Mercy grimaced, staring through the table before her.

"That obvious, huh?" she asked with a bitter sneer.

"Only to me," the brunette admitted settling back in her own chair. "I know you too well to not notice, Hon…an' I understand."

Mercy thought hard over her friend's words, distractedly reaching up for the beaded chain around her neck; just as the night Raphael's temper sent her fleeing to the park, she fiddled with the foiled sobriety chip dangling from it. It wasn't the same chip she wore when she and Donatello finally broke down and talked one-to-one—after all, she was well beyond her fourth month sober now, coming up on her ninth. Clarity Ross never even made it nine days without a drink… Denim blue eyes darted down to the metallic red chip in her grasp, contemplating it silently. Her mind made up, she twisted the chip free of the flimsy jump ring it hung from and tossed it to Amber.

"Ma had Ellis buried in the family plot," the blonde stated seriously. "He'd want to know I'm alright…please leave that for'im?" Amber visibly hesitated. "I'll be gettin' another one soon, anyway…I'm nine months sober next Friday." Mercy's lips quirked up in a humorless smile. "If you wanna check on Ma while you're there, I won't argue."

"Are you ready to go?" Donnie's voice in the doorway startled the two women, and, realizing he interrupted them, he gave them a sheepish smile.

"Yeah," Amber answered, then accepted the red foiled chip from Mercy and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'll get this to'im…'til we're back, I'm countin' on you to keep everyone in line, a'right?" Mercy smirked and gave her friend a confident nod.

The odd family gathered in the hallway to the repurposed Barracks to bid their farewells; only Raphael was absent from the send-off, and Mercy was sure this was no coincidence. Armed with chalk and detailed notes, Donatello carefully scribbled the ceremonial seals on the concrete wall before him, all the while muttering a quickly memorized chant. With the last stroke and the final word, the pasty white lines began glowing with a bright unearthly light then vanished entirely…along with the concrete. A pitch black void yawned before them, not even a speck of light to be seen. He turned to Amber, swallowing down his nerves. "This part's your job," he explained quietly.

"What?" Amber squeaked in surprise, her eyes shooting over to meet Splinter's.

"Ordinarily," the older mutant explained patiently, "this ceremony would open a door directly to the Battle Nexus, but the destination can be altered through focused intent." The brunette turned to Donnie in confusion but he had no answers, so she turned back to Splinter. "Visualize the place you wish to arrive in," Splinter explained with a slight frown. "In your mind's eye, contemplate a location where your arrival will be both safe and unseen, in as much detail as possible." Amber glanced over at Mercy.

"What about the ruins between Aaron's house and your step-dahd's Ranch?" the brunette asked the blonde curiously. "Were they still standin' after the storms?" Mercy nodded in agreement, and Amber turned back to Donnie. "The ruins then—the area's been abandoned since the cabin there burned down—ya never even find any graffiti there, kids're always too scared'a the rumors." With every word, a tiny pinprick of light in the void grew larger and brighter, 'til it seemed like a light at the end of a tunnel. "That's not creepy at all," Amber mumbled edging closer to Donnie.

"Be safe, you two," Leo urged quietly. Donnie and Amber bid their final goodbyes, both worried what they'd find on the other side. With a shared steadying breath, they stepped into the void, following the light to a world apart from their own.

Mercy watched solemnly until their backs vanished into the void, then even longer until the portal in the wall faded back into stained concrete. Long after the others were gone, she still stood there in the hallway, hoping, wondering, and dreading all at once. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong—something about the whole plan to send Amber home to check on their loved ones sent chills down her spine. Eyes focused somewhere beyond the stained concrete wall, she watched, waited, and worried.

Screw this…driving herself up the wall would accomplish nothing. Struggling to clear her mind, the blonde ducked into the barracks to retrieve her boots and a jacket, then stalked out the side door. There was always something to be done in the garden, after all, and not much could clear her mind like yardwork.

In the open doorway to the massive green space the family created from the abandoned Railyard, Mercy paused, eyes locked on a familiar shape crouching beside a bed of freshly transplanted peppers. Raphael…he hadn't heard her, hadn't seen her, and for all intents and purposes, seemed too lost in his own brooding to register her presence. For a moment, she took advantage of her unintentional invisibility—seized it as an opportunity to soak in the sight of him and contemplate her strange and wondrous reactions to seeing him.

Warmth blooming in her stomach—downy fuzz filling her subconscious—sweat-slicked palms and a fluttering pulse—no other man ever drove her so out of her mind that she lost herself at the mere sight of him. Never before had the mere scent of a man's sweat driven her to distraction. Never before had she craved the touch and taste of another the way she craved Raphael. A lifetime ago, she would have let him go, would never have taken a chance on anyone for fear of proving her mother right. In this lifetime, she knew better…in this lifetime she had Raphael and she knew he'd never allow her to be hurt again, not while he still breathed. How did she get so lucky? Over four months had passed since Raphael opened his heart enough to let her in, but still, she didn't have an answer to that question.

Heaven, help me to surrender, she thought silently, eyes locked on the mutant who decided to be a better man for her. Show me mercy an' I'll never ask fer anythin' again.** Before she fell further into reflection, she broke herself loose, grabbed the handles of the rolling mulch bin, and strode confidently toward the mutant ruminating over her peppers. By the time she sank to her knees in the dirt and commenced shoveling out wood chips for the jalapenos, Raph was watching her in mute confusion. She didn't acknowledge him or greet him—when he was ready to talk, he'd do so without her prompting. Sure enough, he soon broke the tense silence.

"When's Donnie an' Amber leavin'?" he asked in a low rumble. Mercy shrugged, methodically heaping mulch around the first plant.

"Ya missed'em," the blonde answered, visibly untroubled. "They're gone—been so about twenty minutes now, I reckon." As she dipped back in for more mulch, Raph studied her seriously, combing through her words for anything that might have been lost in translation. He found nothing…even so, it didn't comfort him any.

"Ya didn't go with'em," the mutant confirmed aloud. "They're goin' back to yer homeworld an' ya didn't go with'em." Denim blue eyes rolled and Mercy shook her head with a long-suffering sigh.

"I told'ja I wasn't goin' with'em," she reminded dryly, but her unaffected expression pinched into a vicious scowl. The plant she was working with had some mild bug damage, from the looks of it, some sort of beetle. "Boris, yer lettin' me down," she grumbled snipping off the damaged foliage. "Start earnin' yer keep or I'm'onna take a can'a Raid after ya, mark my words."~ The massive mutant beside her cringed, well-remembering the huge, hairy wolf spider Mercy named Boris and released into the garden. How he managed to stack up enough bad karma to wind up with a spider-loving woman when he himself fea—er, hated bugs was quite beyond him.

"I don't get it." The grumbled words drew her eyes to his in bemusement. "Dat world's yer home—yer a country gal, Merse, but yer stayin here, in da city…why?" He shook his head with a scoff, quickly riling himself up for a fight. "Ya should'a gone with'em! Ya don't belong here, Kid, ya—" With lightning-fast reflexes, Mercy snatched the trowel out of the mulch bin and whacked him on the shin with it, eliciting a startled shout; the pained bellow was quickly followed by a snarl and scowl as the indignant mutant clutched his stinging shin.

"I told'ja I'm stayin'," she reminded shaking the trowel at him like a scolding finger. "I ain't changin' my mind, not fer all the cows in the world. This's my home now—yer my home now, ya meathead!" Rolling her eyes, she turned back to her task. "Quit tryin'a chase me off before I give ya a reason to want me gone." Raphael stared at her, half stunned, half confused, and entirely speechless; Mercy paid him no mind, instead, falling to grumbling at him under her breath. "I also told'ja they're jus' goin' back to make sure no one's offed'emselves but did'ja listen?~ No, no one ever listens to Mercy!" After a few more grumbled complaints, Raph finally worked up the courage to interrupt.

"Yer sure, Merse?" he asked, hazel eyes sweeping from the frayed knees of her jeans to her messy blonde hair and over every inch between them. "Ya gotta chance to live in da country again—ya could get out'a da city." He shook his head, sinking to his backside on the dirt-strewn concrete and reaching up to dig his fingers into his stiff neck. "If ya stay here, in da city…Babe, I can't give ya everythin' ya deserve, not when we're stuck livin' in da sewers an' subways."

"What exactly is it ya think I deserve?" the blonde demanded, pinning him with her eyes. "Safety? Security? Happiness, love, a reason fer tryin'?"

"All'a dat!" Raph answered flinging one arm wide in exasperation. "All'a dat an'—"~ She cut him off again.

"Ya a'ready gimme all'a that, Raphael,"~ Mercy insisted soberly. "I feel safe with ya—I feel secure in yer home. Ya make me happier'n~ I've ever been, ya gimme a reason to keep tryin' an' keep fightin'…" A faint hint of pink darkened her cheeks and an uncomfortable cringe twisted her naked lips. "As fer love…I love ya, ya love me, an' that's more'n~ I ever thought I'd have. Maybe ya can't gimme cows an' country air more'n once in a while, but yer worth it, ten times over."

Muddy brown darkened the pale skin around his muzzle but he wore a wide, lopsided smirk. Crossing his legs he patted one bulky thigh and when she accepted the invitation his smirk spread into a grin. The peppers, the cows, and the other world were all but forgotten as the two lovers clashed, first at the hips, then at the lips, neither content with being apart.

"I love ya, Raphie," Mercy repeated softly into the crook of his neck, smiling at how his pulse thundered against her lips. "Ain't nothin' gonna change that. Quit waitin' fer me to run off, okay?" A contemplative rumble of acceptance vibrated against her shoulder.

"A'right," Raph accepted soberly, carding his thick fingers through her mussed hair. "I still think ya should go home for a lil' while at least, anyway," he admitted. "Ya got family an' friends dere…it might do ya good ta go back fer a visit, you know, get some closure 'er whateva it is Donnie was talkin' 'bout earlier."

"No." The denial was surprisingly vehement, and he eased her away to study her expression for answers.

"No?" he asked.

"Make that a fuck no," she corrected sourly. "Amber's checkin' on Willis, Raph, an' other'n Willis, the only other person I ever cared about in that world was my Ma…an' there's no way in Hell I'm goin' back to'er again!" The massive mutant said nothing, but Mercy felt that nothing was a rather infuriating way of saying something. "I made that mistake too many times a'ready—I died determined to never go back to'er again!" She winced, reaching up to clutch the ever-present sobriety chip from her necklace, only to recall its absence and let her hand fall uselessly over her knee. "I've finally got the balls to live my own life, Red," she summed up with a weak shrug. "If I go back to'er anyway, I'll have died fer nothin'…an' I can't take that."

Raph considered her words a silent moment, gently petting her messy hair. "I find it hard ta believe ya eva' lacked balls, Kid," he remarked without emphasis. "I gotta feelin' ya had plenty'a will ta fight, jus' like now, but'cha just didn't find nothin' worth fightin' fer."~ A rough, callused fingertip curled under Mercy's pointed chin, urging her to meet the amber eyes a little above hers. "Yer worth fightin' fer," Raph swore leaning down to rest his brow on hers and hold her eyes. "It ain't gotta happen anytime soon, an' ya won't go alone, but someday, ya really need'a face'er again, just ta prove yer stronger'n she is…yer not alone, Sweetheart…ya'll neva be alone again as long's I'm breathin'."

Touched, choking up, Mercy stole his lips in a hungry, wanton kiss, leaning into the scarred palms cupping her jaw and the small of her back. Even as she let her feelings sweep her away and threw herself headlong into the wonder that was Raphael's softer side, she struggled against silent doubt. She'd rather walk barefoot through the hottest depths of Hell than ever see her mother again, but even now, she was held back by the years of abuse she suffered at Clarity's hands. If she never faced Clarity again, never confronted her demons, how could she ever move beyond her fears of intimacy and shame? More so, if she were to face Clarity again, would she emerge stronger than before, or would it entirely break her?

The salty-sweet lips against hers had no answers, and neither did she, but for the moment, she was totally fine with that.

WORDS

~ A "glaikit toonser" – Scottish slang, glaikit– stupid and toonser – someone from the city. (Compare to cliché 'city-slicker' or Southern 'dumbass Yank.') ~ "the locals'll trip over'emselves to ignore me." – 'The local population will do everything in their power to pretend I don't exist, even if it means making asses of themselves.' Not speaking for EVERY small town, but my experience with small towns has taught me the easiest way to be ignored and left alone is to act like an oblivious tourist. This is ESPECIALLY effective in Cold's hometown—all it takes is being surprised by chickens in the road to render you 'a dumbass Yank' to the local populace, who will then avoid you like the plague. ~ Dobber – Scottish slang for fool, stupid person, or dickhead. She's using the latter definition. ~ Git – Midwestern and Southern slang verb, not Brit-slang insult. When used in a sentence it's just an awkward pronunciation of 'get' [pronounced exactly as written] but when it's used on its own, like in this passage, it's an emphatic insistence that someone leave. Pronounced Gyit or GEE-it with the GEE (Soft g as in gift) shortened and bleeding into the less-emphasized –it. The 't' is usually insinuated rather than enunciated, especially in the Midwest. ~ Boris, yer lettin' me down—Start earnin' yer keep or I'm'onna take a can'a Raid after ya, mark my words. – Boris, you're letting me down—Start eating the bugs or I'll spray you with Raid, (bug killer) just you watch me! (Recall that "Boris the Spider" was named for a song by the same name, by, I believe, The Who.) ~ I also told'ja they're jus' goin' back to make sure no one's offed'emselves~ but did'ja listen? – 'I also told you they're just going back (to Amber and Mercy's world) to make sure no one has killed themselves, but did you listen?' This is a direct reference to Amber's dream of Aaron contemplating drowning himself in 'Wilson's Crick.' ~ All'a dat – all'a dat an' [more] – all of that – all of that and more. ~ Ya a'ready gimme all'a that. – You already give me all of that. ~ Happier'n / more'n / other'n – Happier than / more than / other than. All are Midwestern/Southern-isms. First is pronounced like adding urn to happy, the second and third sound somewhat like MORE-un and UTHER-in. ~ I find it hard ta believe ya eva' lacked balls. – I find it hard to believe you ever lacked [the] balls [to do something.] ~ I gotta feelin' ya had plenty'a will ta fight, jus' like now, but'cha just didn't find nothin' worth fightin' fer. Yer worth fightin' fer. – I've got a feeling you had plenty of will to fight, just like now, but you just couldn't find anything worth fighting for. You're worth fighting for. ~ It ain't gotta happen anytime soon, an' ya won't go alone, but someday, ya really need'a face'er again, just ta prove yer stronger'n she is. – It doesn't have to happen anytime soon, and you won't go there alone, but someday, you really need to face your mother again just to prove you're stronger than she is. ~ Yer not alone, Sweetheart…ya'll neva be alone again as long's I'm breathin'. – You're not alone, Sweetheart…you'll never be alone again as long as I'm breathing. [Alive] Verdict: Raph has a mushy side but it takes some digging to reach it. :3

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