ash⋆˚

❝ i was scared of dentist & the dark ❞

hello, and welcome! <3 this blog will be where you can find my fanfics & upcoming ones!

ᝰ fandoms I currently am in:

❏ rotmnt

❏ fnaf

❏ undertale

❏ arcane

❏ owl house

❏ south park

❏ genshi

Leonardo ˊˎ-

❏ It's You (Leonardo x Reader)

IN WHICH

you find a strange turtle as a little kid and develop an odd friendship

Donatello ˊˎ-

❏ Study Date (Donatello x Reader)

IN WHICH

you finally meet your online biology tutor

❏ Late Night Visit (Donatello x Reader)

IN WHICH

you find yourself impatiently waiting for your boyfriend after his mission

All of The Turtles ˊˎ-

❏ Interacting with shy!reader

IN WHICH

the turtles are sweet to you

arcane ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

“You sleepy, angel face?”

It was soft, Sevika's hushed words roughly tumbling from her pursed lips for a moment as you had been sitting contently in the warmth of her lap. The apartment was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint, blinking of Zaun’s neon lights filtering through the cracked blinds. The city’s perpetual hum—machinery grinding, steam hissing, and distant shouts—felt muted here, cushioned by the worn walls and the faint haze of lingering smoke. The air was tinged with the faint metallic tang of oil and something softer, like gin and stale perfume, blending into a sweet scent.

The bed wasn’t much, a simple frame shoved into the corner, its mattress sagging slightly in the middle. The sheets were tangled and pooled around your hips, the fabric warm from shared heat and slightly frayed at the edges. The pillows beneath you were mismatched, one lumpy and overused, the other slightly stained but soft, cradling into Sevika’s head as she leaned against the creaking headboard.

She brought the tip of her lingering finger to the edge of your soft lashes, contently fluttering to remain open against the firm touch of her toned chest.

Your warm fingertips quietly trailed down the side of her face, pressing soft messy kisses down the side of her neck for a moment- the comforting faint scent of smoke staining her skin, a light smile tugging at the edge of your curled lips at the quiet sigh that hummed out from the tip of her tongue.

Her mechanical hand slightly pinched the sides of your cheeks with a light cool touch, bringing your parted lips close enough for her to warmly press a kiss onto them. The coldness of the touch made you shiver- A quiet breath lingered on the edge of her mouth, your hitched sigh contently leaning further into the forever sweet yet intoxicating taste of bubbling gin.

You sat nestled further into her lap, the weight of her broad frame beneath you steady and secure. Her bandaged chest rose and fell against your smooth frame, and the faint scent of smoke clung to her skin, mixing with the sweetness of your presence. Her warm hand yet calloused, ghosted over your waist, the pads of her smooth fingers tracing lazy patterns against your wrinkled-up shirt, brushing just above the line of your stomach.

She liked doing that- Softly whispering, “I love you” into the warmth of your skin for a brief second with every touch that she managed to gingerly sneak. A secret that remained just between the both of you on each other's pursed lips with each night you shared together.

Her thumb traced the curve of your cheek a final "I love you," pressed on your burning skin- her voice barely audible, words only meant only for you. She roughly tucked her face into the crook of your neck for a moment longer, her firm lips brushing the sensitive skin there as her heavy mechanical fingers tightened just slightly, possessively, around the cinch of your waist.

It was a little way of showing her want towards you.

You were hers.

And she was yours.

God, you are so pretty.

It was the first thing Vi thought when she saw you for the first time. 

You were getting ready to fight- sitting on a little wooden stool while chatting with someone at the very edge of the ring. Spectators packed into the cramped space, jostling for a better view. The heavy swirls of smoke hung in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and metallic echoes of shouts and coin tosses. People were screaming their bets, their loud ass voices merging into a deafening roar as the fighters before the two of you squared off in the center of the pit.

She thought it with the way you entered into the arena with a slight squint at the roar of the audience at your entrance, your curled-up hands neatly bandaged up over your knuckles. You were standing by a circle of worn-out ropes strung between rusted metal posts, barely glancing at the strain of countless brutal clashes and sloppy curses tossed at the middle of the ring. The floor was a patchwork of scuffed concrete and bloodstains, some fresh, others darkened with time.

Vi watched you- how a few dim industrial lights flickered, casting uneven shadows that danced across the scent of spilling booze lingering across your skin. Even with how the light was uneven and dim in some corners while other spots gleamed with the harshness of exposed bulbs- You still looked almost out of place. Too pretty.

Especially against the low hum of machinery, the clanking of pipes, and the occasional whir of gears in the distance formed a constant, unnerving backdrop to the screams unfolding below. It made her wonder how a little thing like you ended up in the pits of The Under City. Or who you pissed off to end up in a gig like this.

You looked like a little deer in headlights.

It almost felt unfair to fight you. The more merciful option would be to let you down easily, save you the embarrassment.

She thought it when the scent of sweat lingered in the stuffy air and the sudden clattering of gambling chips being tossed lazily across the surfaces of the wooden tables surrounding your fight.

She thought it when your pretty knuckles suddenly hit the side of her face during the fight you two shared, repeatedly bashing the side of her bruised cheek into the familiar scent of the ground and nearly knocking the fucking wind out of her- the stale taste of blood messily trickling down her scarred bottom lip.

Your punch had sent a sharp ass crack that echoed in her flushed ears, the impact sending her head snapping to the side. Her pale cheek stung, the heavy heat of the blow blossoming into a bruise she’d probably feel for fucking days.

But even through the burning ringing in her ears, all she could think about was how she wanted to remember the sting. To remember you.

She thought it when she grabbed a fistful of that pretty hair of yours between her curled fingertips, the end of her knee tightly pressing into your tightened chest as her bandaged chest heavily heaved with the slight blood that smeared across her pale knuckles.

She thought it while her dark hair clung to her face in damp strands, framing sharp features streaked with blood and dirt. The faint glow of the dim industrial lights flickered across her pale skin, highlighting the angry flush of exertion on her cheeks and the slight quiver in her clenched jaw. Blood, vivid and fresh, dripped lazily from a cut above her eyebrow, smearing down one side of her face and mixing with the grime.

Her chest rose and fell heavily with each ragged breath, the stained bandages around her knuckles straining as she gripped the fabric of your tattered shirt. Her soft blue eyes flickered by the shadows and the fight, a wild edge glinting in their depths.

But then, just for a second, she felt that sharpness wavering.

She thought it when you feverishly clawed at her tense arms, your own jagged breaths coming in heavy, desperate gasps from your pursed mouth. Fresh blood streaked the bottom of your chin, and your busted-up lips parted as you fought against her steady hold. Your stained fingers curled against her, weakly scraping at her damp skin and the weight of her digging into you. 

Every inhale looked like it burned your lungs, but god were you putting up a fight- the fresh bruises already blooming across your skin.

Vi’s gaze softly dropped to your face, her pale blue eyes flickering over your expression with a fleeting hesitation. The sharp curve of your cheekbone, the way your bottom lip trembled yet still formed a curled-up snarl, the faint glint in the swirls of your eyes even as you gasped beneath her weight—it made her pause.

Her grip loosened slightly, her bandaged fingers pausing for just a moment as she held you down. Her breathing slowed. Her blood-smeared lips parted slightly as she caught herself staring. Her knuckles flexed against the fabric of your wrinkled-up shirt, the warm, sticky feeling of blood mixing with the sweat that trickled down her toned arms.

She felt the heat radiating from your body beneath her, the rapid warmth of your heartbeat pressing against her knee. For a brief moment, the world around her dulled—the roars of the crowd, the clanging of metal, the sickly-sweet scent of blood and booze.

It was just you. Breathing heavily underneath her, battered but unbroken, staring up at her.

God, you are just so pretty.

Sevika just had a way of pissing you off. 

Perhaps it was her bluntness, her casually dry sarcasm seeping onto the ends of her coiled lips every time she spoke. The way her soft gray eyes would flicker when she managed to briefly get your attention away from your hunched-up tinkering over your cluttered desk.

 Maybe it was the way her choppy dark locks softly tickled the ends of her bronzed skin that you were ever so tempted to run across with the back of your thumb during the long nights she was away, lingering with the comforting yet faint scent of cheap booze and swirls of cigar smoke.

 Or, more recently, it was the way she was bleeding all over your damn carpet.

"Sevika, what the actual fuck?-" 

You seethed out with a hiss, your bottom lip slightly curled as she roughly dropped the prosthetic metal arm on the edge of your busted-up desk with a faint clatter. Your crinkled-up eyes gingerly running over the messy collection of tangled-up wires and bent-up bolts that scattered across the wooden surface. 

You lightly pushed up the end of your thinly wired glasses up the bridge of your furrowed nose, dryly inspecting the damage with a soft click of your tongue before turning towards her harrowing presence. Her scarred bottom lip trickled with faint remnants of smeared dried blood, scattered bruises trickling across the edge of her face- her Roman nose looked slightly crooked, most likely getting it bashed in, fresh cuts adorning her rough skin as she smoothly leaned into your work desk with a jagged sigh coating her words. 

It was a bit different from her usual bar brawl look though- not the same slightly caught up with light night gambling and the sweet taste of a new win lingering on the edge of her mouth. 

She looked tired. 

"Just needs a quick fix, dollface." Sevika’s voice was rough, the smooth words sliding off her tongue like a gravelly whisper, the edge of her usual self-assurance still present despite the blood splattered on her calloused skin and the damage to her arm that was dragged on the surface of your desk. "Figured you could patch this up."

You glanced at the mess of wires and metal plating surface- The arm looked like it had been through hell and tossed over the Piltover bridge for shits & giggles—scratches and dents marred it's sleek finish, and a few of the smaller components dangled precariously from frayed connections. 

"A quick fix?" you repeated with a soft laugh lingering on your curled lips. You softly adjusted your thinly coiled glasses with a quick shove up the bridge of your nose, your eyes slightly crinkled up. "If that's all you needed, you could have done that your damn self-" 

Your dingy apartment barely had enough space to fit the mess you called a workspace. The flickering fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting an erratic, sickly yellow glow across the room. Blueprints sprawled chaotically across the floor, pinned haphazardly to the walls, or forgotten in piles atop the desk. Tools, screws, and scraps of metal littered every surface, and the acrid tang of solder and oil clung to the stale air. The window was perpetually cracked open, letting in the faint hum of Zaun’s underbelly.

You turned over to look at her from your desk, a slight tug at your bottom lip.

Instead, you lightly snatched up the battered prosthetic arm, its weight heavier than it looked. Holding it up under the soft hue of the light above you, you gingerly turned it over in your hands, inspecting the sheer extent of the damage. 

Her chapped lips pulled into something just shy of a smile, though it wasn’t quite smug— "Didn’t think my favorite little mechanic would mind getting their hands dirty," she murmured out, her voice low, with a subtle warmth that danced on the edge of teasing. It wasn’t the words, though, that got under your skin. It was the way her storm-gray eyes seemed to latch onto you as her fingertips carefully tapped the surface of your wooden desk with a slight hum.

It was the kind of teasing you heard faint whispers between the streets of The Undercity- murmurs calling you Sevika's “Pretty Little Tinkerer”

"Sevika," you bit out finally, your voice tight as your smooth fingertips ran across the surface of the arm with a soft sigh, "this isn’t a ‘quick fix.’ Half the circuits are fried, the frame is bent beyond repair, and these joints? They’re done for." You half haphazardly tossed the arm back onto the desk with a resounding thud, its impact shaking a glass jar of screws precariously close to the edge. 

Her expression didn’t waver. The faint bruises on her jaw caught the flickering light, but her eyes stayed locked on yours, calm and unhurried as though she were absorbing every inch of your irritation. There was no cockiness, just a quiet watchfulness that made your pulse flicker unevenly. 

"Relax," she said finally, her voice steady but soft in a way that only stoked the fire under your skin. "I know you’ll fix it. You always do."

You clenched your jaw with a slight click of your tongue, forcing your focus back on the scattered mess of your desk, your oiled-up fingers gingerly flexing in frustration before reaching for the tools scattered across the surface. 

"You’re impossible," you muttered with a light hiss, letting the tension in your voice bleed into the room as you sorted through the mess. The soldering iron hissed faintly as it heated up, mirroring the simmering heat in your chest.

Behind you, Sevika stayed silent, her gaze still heavy on your back. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was there—a quiet weight you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried to channel your irritation into fucking untangling the mess she’d handed you.

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as you tore your gaze from her, turning sharply toward the battered prosthetic arm on your desk. The clatter of tools filled the space as you hastily grabbed what you needed. Your voice was lower now, rough while smoothly turning one of the busted-up bolts quietly.

 "What kind of trouble are you getting yourself into, Sevika? Every time you come back home to me, you come back, you come back hurt." 

You adjusted your leather pants as you crouched to retrieve a roll of bandages from the corner. The thick material creaked softly with the movement, the belt cinched snugly at your waist holding an assortment of small tools and stray bolts you had yet to organize. 

“It's nothing.”

“Nothing isn't gonna scrub out the blood dripping on my carpet.”

Sevika had a way of filling the cramped space with her presence, and not just because of her size. Her towering figure seemed to soak up the weak light, making her seem even more imposing against the backdrop of your cluttered home. She leaned heavily against the edge of your desk, her metal arm a battered mess, the prosthetic sparking faintly as it collided with a pile of wrenches. Her usual attitude seemed dimmed, but her faint small smile was still there that she reserved for you was still there, tugging at her curled lips even as fresh bruises marred her skin.

"I have been dealt worse." Sevika’s gaze shifted away, the tension in her jaw easing as she turned toward your cluttered desk. Her gray eyes moved over the chaotic sprawl of blueprints pinned haphazardly to the wall, their edges curling from neglect. Some were smeared with faint fingerprints of grease, the lines of your meticulous designs almost hidden beneath layers of ink corrections and frustrated scribbles.

Her attention dropped lower, taking in the rows of jars crammed along the edge of the desk—each filled with bolts, screws, and mismatched metal scraps. The faint clinking of loose pieces echoed as her metal arm brushed against one, sending a lid rolling off onto the floor. She didn’t flinch, her focus already wandering to the tools scattered across the workbench: screwdrivers, wrenches, and soldering irons, all marked with the stains of your labor.

 "The whole situation has been growing dire, our attempts to control everything that has been brewing have been leading to chaos." 

Your wired glasses slipped down your nose as you stood, and you shoved them back into place with a grease-stained hand, leaving a faint smudge. 

"It doesn't have to be." You finally spoke.

 "What?" 

“I could be up there, with you, Sevika—helping you.” You set your wrench down with a decisive clink, the sound sharp against the quiet hum of the room. Rising slightly from your chair, you pressed your palms flat against the surface of your desk, leaning forward as your tools and bolts rattled from the sudden motion. Your gaze softened, warm but resolute, as it locked onto hers.

“I know I’m not much of a fighter like you,” you continued with a slight rustle into your locks of hair for a moment, your voice steady despite the faint quaver of emotion before looking back at her with a soft laugh, “But if I could put together a few bolts—really show those topsiders—”

The words hung in the air as you held her gaze. The faint glow of the desk light highlighted the sheen of oil on the palm of your smooth hands and the subtle tension in your posture. 

Sevika’s eyes flicked down briefly to your hands, pressed firmly against the scarred wood of the desk, then back up to your face. Her expression shifted, just slightly—the smallest crease at her dark brow, a flicker of something unspoken behind her stormy gray eyes. She took a breath, her broad shoulders rising and falling, but she said nothing yet, her silence heavy in the space between you.

"And what? So you could get hurt? Get involved in the crossfire of all this shit?" Sevika’s voice cut through with a sharp laugh, though the subtle tremor in her tone betrayed something deeper. Her hand shifted to rest on the desk beside yours, her thick fingers brushing past scattered bolts and oil-stained papers as if grounding herself against the weight of her words. Her gaze bore into you, stormy gray with a soft flicker.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound raw and uneven as it slipped past your lips. "And what do you want then?" You pushed back from the desk, standing now, your movements sharp while waving your curled-up fingers through the air with a slight sigh. "For me to sit pretty down here and tinker away while others die? While there’s a big fat fucking chance you could die-?"

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you turned away sharply to look at her, your soft hands gripping the edge of the desk until your knuckles stiffened. Tools roughly clattered from the sudden movement, and a lone wrench tumbled to the floor with a dull thud, but you didn’t flinch

She could die.

 Before you could stop yourself, your hand rose, trembling slightly.

Your fingertips brushed the edge of a fresh bruise on her cheek, her soothing skin warm beneath your lingering touch. The rough scrape felt raw underneath your soft graze, gingerly tracing the faded scars that still trickled across her face. Slowly, the back of your thumb quietly traced over the darkened patch of skin with a soft breath. Her face, always so sharp and proud, softened under your hand for a moment. The scar running down her cheek caught the faint yellow glow of the overhead light, stark against her bronzed complexion.

Her breath hitched, the tiniest intake of air, as her chin tilted slightly toward the warmth of your palm. For a fleeting second, her usual stoic mask faltered, replaced by a slight softness. Her long lashes, thick and dark, fluttered as she hesitated, her gray eyes flickering towards yours.

"I couldn't-" You whispered quietly, "I-I don’t know what I would do without you."

Sevika's jaw tightened, her plump lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she smoothly leaned into your quiet hand, the weight of her head pressing gently against your palm. Her fresh scars and cuts faintly press into the soothing touch of your warm fingertips.

Then, without a word, she turned her face slightly, and her pursed lips brushed softly against your palm for a brief moment. The kiss was warm and deliberate. Her chapped lips smoothly grazed your touch. Her crinkled-up eyes fluttering shut as her lips lingered across your soft skin, and you could feel her light breath ghosting over your fingertips, steady and grounding into your warmth.

 "I won't, [y/n]. Y'know that." 

"Do I?" you softly asked, your strained voice barely above a whisper, "What if you never come back to me one day, Sevy?"

Your darkened eyes traced her face quietly, lingering on every bruise and faded scar that was carved into her bronze skin. The fresh purpling on her cheekbone, the faded remnants of old battles across her jaw— The space between you warmly lingered with a faint breath.

Sevika’s dark brows furrowed, her expression hardening- Slowly, she reached out, her large, calloused hand enveloping yours. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, as her thick fingers curled tightly around yours, holding on as if you might slip away.

"Hell could try to drag me down into its fucking depths," she whispered into your fingertips as the warmth kissed your flushed skin, her soothing voice low but steady, "but nothing in Zaun—nothing—would keep me from coming back to you."

Her smooth thumb brushed against the back of your quivering hand, the roughness of her touch grounding you even as her words made your chest tighten. She quietly leaned closer to the edge of your fingers, her head dipping slightly, enough to have her choppy locks tickle your face. You could feel the heat of her skin, the tension in her clenched jaw, her gray eyes slightly flickering. 

"You have to believe that," she finally murmured, her grip on your hand firm.

"I—" The word faltered on your lips, and you looked down at your joined hands, her grip warm, grounding you in a way that both comforted and overwhelmed.

“Sevika-”

"Do you believe that [y/n]?" Sevika’s voice softened just enough to make the question linger in the space between you.

You took a shaky breath, forcing a small smile to your lips before pressing the edge of your mouth to the edge of her fingertips quietly.

 "I’ll try," you murmured quietly, your voice steadier this time.

Sevika let out a low chuckle at the remark, her warm thumb brushing over the back of your hand one last time in a smooth circle before releasing you. "Now, let’s get me cleaned up, huh? I’m pretty sure I look like shit."

"You definitely do," you quipped with a warm hum, already reaching for a clean rag that was tucked away in the wooden drawers of your desk. She raised an eyebrow at your quick response, but the ghost of a smile tugged at her chapped lips.

Bathed in the warm glow of cascading lights, the exterior of the casino was a grand expanse of marble floors and lavish golden carpets. The hum of conversation and the occasional burst of cheers from the gaming floor created a buzz as Angel Dust leaned against one of the empty chairs, his gloved fingertips traveling down the array of bills that cluttered in the palm of his hand with a smooth smile etched across his tinted lips.

For the past few months, the casino had been a complete hit. It had always been relatively successful previously- But Angel could tell this was completely different in comparison. The clientele had been widely expanded as residents from the various rings arrived to bask in the wealth & status of the place as long as they had a soul to offer. Angel could point out the various succubus from the Lust ring that lingered to wrap their arms around the patrons or the Hell Hounds that chugged down nearly half their supply of alcoholic drinks while gambling.

A good part of the success had accompanied his arrival at the casino. It was too good of a story for anyone in their right fucking mind to pass up. The star of the adult film industry was foolishly ripped from his current contract to work for the gambling overlord.

Angel couldn't get away from the whispers that wandered around his name for weeks or the seething crimson fumes Valentino had been rumored to have been left in. Nor the snickering mess Katie Killjoy had with that crooked lipstick smile, practically having a field day reporting the news for anyone across the circles of hell with a functioning screen to indulge their asses in.

The electronic melodies of the clinking of coins and the clinking of chips echoed through the expansive gaming floor as Angel Dust counted the last few bills under his breath, quickly smoothing out the light crinkles with a small purse of his bottom lip. Nearly a grand in tips, and not even halfway through the evening. 'Ain't doing' too bad.' He noted with a chuckle, smoothly tucking the rolled-up stash into his chest fluff, hoisted up by the thin fabric of his golden dress.

Reaching for his purse, the spider demon carefully dug around for his small black lipstick tube with a light wiggle of his finger, brushing against his packet of half-empty cigarettes gingerly before neatly touching up the dark red that had been dabbed across his lips for the night.

"You come around here often?"

Pausing mid-application, Angel Dust glanced to the side at the familiar warmth of the deep voice. His small smile already tugging the corners of his mouth before allowing his gloved fingertips to brush past the side of his flushed cheek at the cheesy remark.

"From time to time," He replied with a lingering hum, the ends of his dark lashes catching the dripping warmth of the casino lights with a quiet laugh before tapping the side of his cheek with his pointer finger. "There's a certain stray kitty that I have grown kinda fond of, you think you've seen him around maybe?"

Husk finally stepped in front of him, a smile toying on the edges of his curled lips. The demon wore a dark suit that tailored perfectly to his narrow stature, the golden accents of his finely stitched suit perfectly matching the honey-tinted eyes that flickered with light hints of mischief.

"Not sure, but I'm tryna find this little bitsy spider, give him this fruity ass martini he seems to like so much." Holding out the light pink drink between the tips of his claws, Husk had smoothly waggled the drink with a small laugh coated on the edge of his pursed lips, "But I suppose since he's not where to be found-"

Playfully reaching for the drink, Angel Dust cooed gingerly as his other hand lightly played with the end of his pearl necklace, "Hey! No point in throwin' out a decent drink, mm?" The spider mused before smacking together his lips in delight, leaning down to teasingly tap the edge of the heart-shaped nose that scrunched up, "I'll take care of that for you, don't you worry."

Admiring the drink under the soft glistening of the lights, Angel ran his fingers carefully down the martini glass with a smooth whistle, the drink topped off with sweet cherries & raspberries that gleamed with a light sugary glaze.

"You make this?" He hummed out with a sigh, picking up one of the cherries by the stem and dropping it into his mouth with a slight light up of his eyes. "You've been getting really good at these sorta drinks, Kitten."

Husk shrugged one of his broad shoulders casually, his salt & pepper locks dancing slightly at his sudden raspy chuckle before lazily scratching the back of his perked-up ears, "Just a simple thing I threw together, figured ya'd like it."

Amidst the chiming of the slot machines, the clatter of dice against the felt, and the shuffling of cards at the blackjack tables, Angel leaned slightly closer to Husk. The sharp sounds of chips being stacked and pushed across the tables punctuated the continuous murmur of conversation and laughter that filled the air.

"The staff didn't make it?" The spider softly replied with a warmth spread across his face, his golden tooth shimmering slightly with a light laugh before quietly reaching out to run his finger behind Husk's ear with a gentle scratch, "You gettin' your hands dirty for me, Whiskers? You ain't gotta do all that."

The overlord's expression grew lighter, his golden eyes flickering suddenly at the unexpected touch as Angel just as quickly retracted his hand away with a hushed chuckle. He wasn't completely sure why he had suddenly touched Husk, still feeling the lingering warmth of the dark fur across his fingertips.

Blinking for a moment, Husk melted back into reality. His light claws warmly scratching the back of his heated neck before a smooth chuckle escaped his lips, mingled with the lingering champagne. "And have you throwin' a lil fit that there isn't enough gin in this thing to sink Atlantis? Fuckin' pass." He softly murmured out with a small wave of his hand.

Angel took a sip from the martini glass with a smile playing across his lips, his lashes brushing against his pale cheeks with a teasing tone, "Hey, what can I say? You make the best drinks, Husky. Ain't no one beating them." With one of his gloved hands smoothing out the bottom of his golden dress, Angel playfully fluttered his lashes with a sweet grin. "How should I ever repay you for this one?"

Amidst the constant thrum of activity, the rhythmic shuffle of cards being dealt echoed through the air, emphasized by the soft thud of chips hitting the felt-covered tables. The steady murmur of conversation and laughter lingered as Husk extended his hand out warmly, the soft yellow heart between his palm grabbing Angel's attention.

"Join to watch me play a game of poker?" The overlord said with a soft smile, his head cocking slightly to the side towards one of the available tables, "The pot is pretty big & I might need my lucky charm out there."

Their hands brushed against each other casually at first, a fleeting touch before Angel reached out and gently grasped his hand in his own at the offer, feeling the warmth of his touch against his skin.

With their fingertips briefly intertwined, he offered a smooth grin, "Would never miss it," He replied with a warm chuckle, his pink array of eyes briefly glistening before he jutted-out a singular thumb towards the entrance of the casino with a laugh, "Let me just take a little smoke outside, 'kay? I have been itchin' for one all night."

Husk ran his thumb smoothly over Angel's hand before just as quickly allowing his fingers to slip from his grasp with a brief nod, the golden flecks in his eyes quietly flickering with a smile spread across his expression, "Take your time, just meet me back inside when you can, Legs."

As the doors of the casino swung shut behind him, Angel Dust stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds from inside fading quietly into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of fluttering newspapers and the distant hum of traffic.

With his lowered eyes focused on his fingertips, Angel could still feel the slight warmth from Husk's brief touch. The warm feeling brushing across the edge of his palm.

With a soft sigh, Angel Dust reached into his purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes with bubblegum pink packaging, the familiar weight comforting in his hand. He didn't really need to smoke as much anymore when he needed to take a little break. It was just an occasional thing at this point as he tapped one out and brought it to his lips quickly, his thin fingers moving slightly as he fumbled for his lighter.

As the flame flickered to life, casting a warm glow in the darkness, Angel Dust took a long, slow drag from his pursed lips, before casually leaning against the streetlight.

He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift about the brief brush with the overlord, the warmth still lingering across his fingers. Those moments mingling across his mind as the inhaling and exhaling of the cigarette created a steady rhythm against the backdrop of the night.

The spider demon finally stubbed out the cigarette and flicked the butt into the nearby trashcan after a few minutes, the ember fading into darkness. As he moved, the fabric danced along his slender legs, catching the light in delicate folds and ripples that seemed to shimmer and sway with every step as he quietly smiled to himself.

Though, In the hazy glow of the city night, amidst the flickering lights and bustling streets, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, his face furrowed at the sudden soft hue of light.

As Angel watched, his eyes slightly scrunched up as a sleek limousine emerged across the street, gliding through the labyrinth of streets with an air of effortless grace. At first glance, it was just another vehicle navigating the maze of the Pentagram City's landscape, until it became illuminated by the distant streetlights.

Fuck.

His jagged breath caught in the back of his throat as he watched the sleek dark purple limousine glide to a halt nearby, his chest rising and falling through the fabric of his golden dress.

The figure stepped out from the limo at the soft click of the door unlocking, the slender body slipping with clouds of crimson-red smoke surrounding his staggering frame and encasing his body with delicate swirls slipping out from his seething smile.

"Valentino-?" Angel whispered out, his widening eyes darting frantically back and forth over the moth demon and his lingering form. His gloved fingertips tightly curled around one of the glistening pearls that hung around his neck, taking a small step back with a slight stumble over the pavement, "I- what the fuck- what are you doing here?" He breathed with a quiet crack in his voice.

His eyes traveled to the parking lot, the security cameras that softly blinked before curling his fingertips.

The overlord wore a dark satin shirt, the top slightly unbuttoned as it was layered with a few golden chains that harshly glimmered under the flickering streetlights. His sharp golden fingertips slid across his face, pushing his heart-shaped glasses with a grinning expression smeared across, his half-opened hand trickling across the fresh air.

"Now, Angelcakes, is that how you greet me?" He smoothly hummed out with a slight buzz mingling at the edge of his slithering voice, red swirls of smoke dripping out from the tip of his curling tongue, "How could I ever forget my lovely little star?"

The spider demon felt his mouth grow dry, briefly locking eyes with Valentino as he casually took another step towards Angel with the tip of his black shoes shining with each approach.

The tight cracks in Angel's voice caught the slight burning of his throat at the sight of the dark red eyes that crinkled-up behind the glaze of his tinted glasses in light amusement. The smile of the demon seemingly curled-up, the golden teeth flaring under the soft light of Pentagram City.

"Is this some kind of twisted sick fucking joke?" Angel asked with a weak laugh sliding across his words with the shake of his head, his gloved fingertips curling tightly around the fabric of his golden dress and bunching up the material within his curled fist. "God, seriously, Val- The fact even you have the actual guts to even try and step onto another overlords' domain like this-"

Valentino smoothly dragged the burnt cigar that had remained clutched between his fingers to the edge of his pursed lips. The cool air mingled with the scent of smoke and a lingering dab of cologne as he lightly tapped his finger on the side of his cheek with a light smile.

"Angel! Why so hostile?" Val cooed out with a faint laugh, his dark eyes flickering across Angel and the expression that etched across the deep furrows on his paled face. "I thought you would find it romantic that I came all this way to see how you were doing. To finally chat."

His staggered breath came in short, shallow gasps, quickly blinking at the words that lingered before scanning his face with a quick spat, "Romantic? Are you fuckin' with me, Valentino? After everything you put me through, you seriously think that I would even think of this as romantic?" The words quickly seethed out from his tone, his hand lightly pinching at the temple of his forehead with a strained laugh, "Shows how lil' you actually know me."

Valentino cocked an eyebrow slightly, but even Angel could tell from behind the soft sheen of his tinted glasses, his right eye had slightly twitched at the tone. The ends of his widened smile faintly faltered as the light winds rustled the fabric of his unbuttoned blouse.

His purple face paused for only a moment, then split into the classic smile he wore, the ends of his teeth peering out with a slight hiss.

Valentino's thin fingers brushed to touch Angel's bare shoulder, his taunt voice melting with a honeyed tone that dripped with every word that slipped from his mouth, "Baby, please-" He murmured lightly, allowing the tip of his finger to trace down his stiffened arm. "You always get so tensed up; it makes you say such silly things."

Angel Dust quickly ripped his shoulder away at the surface of his hand, his scratched voice nearly hissing, "Get your fucking hands off me, Val, I ain't yours anymore." His frame straightened slightly at the sudden touch as Angel placed one of his stumbling hands close to the warmth of his chest with a curled-up lip, "Just when I think you can't get any more pathetic-"

The harsh slap landed across the surface of his cheek with a sharp crack, his puffed cheek reddened at the sudden strike that landed across his face. Angel found himself staring down at the cement of the sidewalk in silence from the impact, the strike still lingering hot across his skin as Valentino had lowly scoffed in disgust.

"You little bitch." He quickly seethed out with a spat drenching the edge of his words, his dark red eyes slightly narrowing before leaning down to drill the tip of his finger into his chest sharply, "You think now that you are on someone else's leash you can suddenly speak to me this way? Don't you forget who you are talking to with that disgusting mouth."

Examining the back of his hand with a slight spat, his thick accent mingled with each word that slipped past his tongue, the gold bracelets that slid down his arms faintly jingling. "Just as I was here, trying to make nice with you and say hello, you can't even have a drop of gratefulness in that filthy tone of yours."

His fingertips gathered Angel's cheeks up, pinching them tightly between his firm grip to force his face up to look at him, "I made you, Angel. What were you before me, huh?" He whispered out with a light laugh as Angel Dust quickly thrashed under the pressure of his eager hold, his eyes scattering back and forth between at Val's gaze, "Some lonely ass addict waiting for the next check to blow it all on little white lines? A nobody."

The neon flashing lights of the casino illuminated the brief flicker of his dark eyes, each word laced with the weight of his words that furrowed up with the red smoke that danced around his twitching lip. Valentino's voice carried on the chilly night breeze, punctuated by the occasional honk of passing cars.

The moth’s curled lips pursed together in angry contemplation as he tossed the butt of his cigarette onto the concrete floor, crushing it beneath his heel.

"The fact that I even looked in your direction- Made you into Angel Dust. Drill that into your fucking thick skull. I made you."

With a trembling hand, the spider demon gingerly touched his cheek with a soft wince, tracing the outline of the slap that would probably form into a bruise, "Yeah, I'll remember it." Angel nodded to himself lightly, his raspy voice slightly cracked as he quietly licked his split bottom lip, the edge of his thumb wiping off the small pool of blood that trickled down his wobbling chin.

With a shallow breath grazing his swollen mouth, he squared his limp shoulders for a moment and his quiet gaze wavered over Valentino. His eyes flickered over his frame before meeting his dark eyes with a slight click of his tongue.

"I'll remember you as the guy who took advantage of me and got me to sign that hell of a fuckin' contract." He finally spat out with a strained smile spread across his lips, the slight blood staining the ends of his flashed teeth. "I'll remember you as the one who forced me to work every single day of my life to the point, that I can't even remember a day where my knees weren't hurtin' so bad."

Valentino plucked his lighter, puffing on a fresh cigarette, letting the cloyingly sweet red smoke fill the space between them with a slight hum curled on his lips. Angel rubbed underneath his bottom lip; the light cracks scattered across his mouth. It was a weak smile that lingered across his stale mouth, the ends of his lips struggling to lift but god did it feel fucking good.

"But most of all, I'll remember you as the desperate little moth that comes runnin' back to me like a flame, because they know they just lost out on their luck."

Valentino allowed the smoke to slither past Angel with a quiet laugh, glancing over the golden rims of his golden glasses, "You seriously think he's any better than me, Angelito? really?"

Angel had gotten to know the demon over the past few months, the moments between them that had slowly developed into a friendship between the both of them. The moments that send warmth in his stomach- A light of trickle blood had slipped down his chin, dropping lightly down the soft fabric of his gleaming dress, staining the edge of the golden material.

"I don't know a lot- I just know- he ain't treating me like fucking shit, Val." He breathed out with a strained rasp, his reddened cheek puffed out slightly as his gloved fingertips faintly curled up, "That he actually treats me like I'm actually a person."

Bathed in the warm glow of the casino's neon lights, Angel Dust's face slightly softened, his voice growing warm, "That I actually like being around him."

 At an exhale, red smoke coiled around him with a gentle coo across his pursed lips, "That is so cute." He said with a sigh mingling in his tone, his glinting eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. "But just know, when you are going to bed at night, that at least I was honest about our contract."

Valentino tapped the edge of his chin, taking another bold step forward. Angel doesn't back away, a soft wince brushed across his lips. He tried his best to keep his eyes from cowering as Valentino continued his advance, standing right in front of him, having to bend low to meet his gaze.  

"Because even though he might be sweet and all nice to you, just remember this- That behind all that, you are stuck under that contract just like when you were with me. " Valentino placed a single finger under Angel's wavering chin—noting the subtle flinch with a click of his tongue—and tilted it up to better look at his bruising face. His smile faint as his whisper reeked with lingering smoke, "That gatito owns you and your precious little soul, Angel."

However, at the slip of the last few words from his lips, a sharp crack released through the crisp air. A whistle of wind blew past, as Valentino seethed out in pain with a low hiss, his fingertips feverishly cupping the side of his furrowed face that now trickled with a small slip of crimson blood across his cheek. 

It had been a card, specifically a metal card. It was a black spade, the edge of the card indented firmly into the side of the limousine door as it had landed with a loud crack. Valentino had crookedly smiled, his bloody hand still palming the side of his face with a light spat. 

Husk had been standing at the edge of the stairs of the casino, the ends of his black dress shoes dug sharply into the concrete. The soft winds had messily rustled up his salt-and-pepper locks as his lips had slightly curled, his honey-colored eyes growing darker, nearly looking wild under the flickering streetlight. 

"Husker!" Valentino called out sweetly, his red eyes slightly narrowed as his fingertips still locked smoothly around Angel Dust's wrist tightly. "What a pleasure to see you again-" 

"- I would suggest letting go of Angel if you'd like to keep those lil' fingers of yours, Valentino." Husk replied with a low tone, the tips of his sharpened claw casually lifting one of the cards from his deck with a slight flick of the finger, "Because the next one I ain't missin'." 

 He tilted his head with an amused chuckle as his eyes trickled down, letting his heart-shaped sunglasses slide down to get a better view, clicking his tongue with a sigh. "I was just havin' a chat with Angel." Valentino hummed contently, pinching the sides of his face with a slight laugh, "Weren't we?"

Angel Dust briefly turned his chin to glance over at Husk, the slight blood thirst that swirled through his eyes impatiently before Angel mouthed out a quiet, "Don't."

Husk's eyes briefly glinted in recognition, his face stiffening.

Val scoffed before erupting into loud, cruel laughter. He shook his head and took a deep breath of red smoke, blowing it just over the former porn star’s shoulder. Angel Dust brushed away Valentino's hand with a hiss, forcing him to release his face.

Outside the casino, the slight breeze played coyly with the crinkled newspapers scattered around the ground, causing them to rustle softly as Husk allowed his voice to lower to a slight snarl, the ends of his teeth glinting out under the soft light, "I wouldn't forget whose territory you are in, Moth." Husk seethed out, the ends of his fur slightly bristling before stepping down a few steps, "I would fly along now while I'm being nice before I clip those fuckin' wings of yours and drag em' to that flat face lil' friend of yours."

The tension simmered, Valentino seemingly pleased by the sudden threat thrown at him. His hand briefly drifted up into Angel’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in a mock loving manner.

"Pft." He finally replied with a large, crooked smile, the tip of his tongue dragging out the slight spat of his sentence, "Not worth spending another minute around here, anyways. The litterbox always carries such a stench."

As Valentino made his way back to his awaiting limousine, his movements lingered. The neon lights of the city flickered overhead, casting an otherworldly glow upon the scene, while the distant sounds of revelry echoed through the night.

"Don't you forget what I said, Angel."

Approaching his gleaming limousine, Valentino's lips curled into a satisfied laugh, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. With a final drag of his cigarette, he opened the door and slipped inside, the plush interior enveloping him in luxury. As the limo pulled away from the curb a gust of curling crimson smoke that flowed out followed his path.

As the weight bore down upon him, Angel Dust felt the cracks in his voice strain amidst the bustling city streets. His burning eyes briefly watched the limousine quietly, his breaths coming out in soft ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the rising back and forth of his chest.

Slowly, inexorably, hot tears welled in Angel Dust's eyes, blurring his vision with their shimmering trails. A single drop slipped down his bruised cheek, tracing a path before another soon followed. With trembling legs, he clumsily sank to his knees, the harsh concrete of the curb biting into his skin.

"Fucking shit, shit, shit!-"

As Angel Dust crumpled to the cement floor with a raspy laugh, his heavy sobs slowly echoed afterward in the crisp air as the street lights flickered. Without a word, Husk had already knelt beside Angel Dust, his movements gentle as his deep golden eyes frantically scanned over his crumpled-up frame with a soft expression.

"Angel?"

Angel blearily opened his eyes. He had buried his face into the surface of his palms before he had blinked at the floor, glancing over in the direction of the soft voice. "Please don't look at me right now, Husk." He whispered out with a slight breath, the trickling stains of mascara lingering across the corner of his cheeks.

"What? Anthony-" The overlord reasoned with a quiet breath, his head slightly shaking at the comment coming from Angel, "I don't give a shit how you look- "

Angel Dust raised a gloved hand sharply to interrupt with a quiet laugh, his voice weakly cracking, "I don't want you to see me like this." His slacked shoulders shook with each ragged breath that slipped out a vulnerable beg. He brought his scratched-up knees to his heaving chest before silently wrapping his quivering arms around his legs. "Just- please. Go away-"

 Angel Dust heavily closed his eyes, his dark lashes brushing against the smoothness of his cheeks with a quiet sigh. He had expected to hear the sound of footsteps retreating, leaving him to figure out Valentino's sudden appearance and seething touch. But to his surprise, the silence lingered, unbroken by the sound of Husk's departure.

Slowly, cautiously, Angel Dust opened his burning eyes with the slight tears that still remained in the corner of his expression, half-expecting to find himself alone. Instead, he felt the subtle shift of someone pressing against his back, the soft rustle of smooth feathers adjusting quietly.

Turning his head slightly to the right as his chin softly wobbled, Angel Dust saw Husk sitting behind him, his own eyes remaining tightly shut as his lips formed a thin line.

Without a word, he closed the distance between them and gently pressed his back against his, his presence a quiet warmth as Angel felt the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric of his stained dress, a light sniffle escaping.

"Husk, please, I fuckin' said-"

Husk's voice had come out firm, his long lashes still remaining shut before tilting the edge of his chin towards the cool sky. "Look, I ain't lookin' at you like you wanted." He softly murmured, the ends of his long ears slightly lowering at his smooth breath. "But I am not leavin' you either, Legs."

He didn't say a word at first afterward, his crisp suit slightly wrinkling as the edge of his white buttoned-up shirt was slightly rolled up around his wrists. With a heavyweight, Angel Dust leaned back into the warmth of his back. His shaky cries now softened into muffled sobs, leaning into Husk's back and quietly lingering into his comforting touch.

Angel Dust noticed a shift between him and Husk after that night.

It wasn't terribly noticeable, at least not at first to Angel. They still would talk to one another and chat before every evening shift at the casino. Husk would discuss about the business aspects of the casino in his office with the occasional meeting or two that if it had been anyone else, might have caused Angel Dust to fall asleep.

Things like that stayed the same. Till the smiles between them had become more forced. The soft banter and late-night conversations had now suddenly become a rarity or a brief excuse the overlord always had on his sleeve to avoid. Even the variety of drinks that Husk would leave on the gleaming casino counter had now been replaced by the waiter's soft smile and pitiful shake of the head- With a message that the overlord had not left anything for the spider demon.

He had fucking scared him off. Angel Dust had been sure of it. He had opened up too far, and let his emotions slip out too quickly and too suddenly. It was too much. Too ugly.

He was too much.

So, to receive a note from Husker a few weeks later at the front of his room- To open the handwritten note about having planned something for the both of them, something important- Angel was, to say the least, fucking excited. His fingertips smoothly ran across the fresh penmanship that was scribbled across the piece of paper.

However, he hadn't quite expected this.

As the sky dipped into the casting hues of soft pink and crimson red across the sky, Angel Dust stepped onto the familiar balcony, his glossy bottom lip slightly feeling the brush of the gentle breeze and the soft click of his heels. The gentle winds ruffled the swirling edges of his golden dress, which shimmered gingerly in the fading daylight. 

His pearl necklace decorated his neck softly, resting across the fluff of his chest. Angel had carefully curled the edges of his tufts of hair, loose waves framing the side of his lightly flushed face. He allowed his gloved fingertips to wander over his slightly parted lips, a small smile toying with the edge of his mouth.

His eyes widened with amazement as he quietly drank in the sight before him, taking a quiet step further on the display. The balcony was adorned with flickering candle sticks and vibrant bouquets. The soft glow of candlelight danced on the surface of the red tablecloth, where an elegant spread awaited an assortment of chocolate, complete with sparkling crystal and fine china.

The fragrance of the flowers lingered in the crisp air, intermingling with the subtle scent of the evening breeze. Angel Dust's smooth breath caught as he briefly noticed a single red rose placed delicately at what he had assumed was his seat.

He plucked up the dark rose carefully between his gloved fingertips, allowing the stem of the flower to roll between his thumb with a soft smile playing across his glossy lips.

Just as he was absorbing the beauty of the setup with a satisfied hum, a familiar figure emerged from the open wired door, a warm smile playing on his smooth lips. He wore a dark suit that complemented Angel Dust's golden dress with the accents littered across the light fabric, and his honey eyes briefly flickered with a faint warmth.

"Gorgeous as always, Legs." Husk said, extending his warm hand towards Angel Dust with a soft smile twinging across his mouth, his salt-and-pepper locks neatly brushed back and lightly glowing under the gentle hue of the candlelight. "I thought we could talk for a moment. "

As Angel Dust gingerly took his rough hand into his with a small laugh, the golden hues of his dress reflected the warm glow of the candles as his eyes still curiously traveled across the neatly stitched pattern of the tablecloth. Trickled with hearts, spades, clovers, and finely decorated diamonds. "Husky!" The spider had whispered out, the golden bracelets softly jingling across his wrists. "What is all this?"

Husk had led the spider to his seat, his claws carefully tugging out the finely wired chair as the former adult film actor cushioned himself onto the seat with a slight whistle still formed across his pursed lips.

"Didn't take ya' as such a romantic-" He playfully teased, the slight flutter of his dark lashes brushing against the paleness of his cheeks before leaning his elbows across the surface of the small table with a mingled laugh, "You treat all the pretty girls ya' meet like this?" 

Sitting himself down on his chair across from Angel, the candlelight flickering across his softening expression- Husk lightly nodded as the ends of his ears slightly twitched with a light brush of red.

"Only the ones I really start to like." 

The spider demon felt the ends of his cheeks quietly warm, his gloved fingertips fidgeting with the ends of the tablecloth with a faint smile into his lap.

"So, ya admittin' I'm pretty, huh?" 

"When you aren't yappin' off my ears, yer' kinda nice to look at."

With a hushed laugh, Angel examined the silver platter set in front of them, and gingerly plucked one of the chocolates from the plate before taking a small nibble on the edge of the sweet.

It had kinda struck him in the middle of biting into the chocolate that no one had ever taken him out on an actual date before. Sure, he had gone out with clients before. But it was just to the nearest sleazy club and attempting to get him as plastered as fast as possible before driving him over to the nearest dingy hotel across town. A date with actual thought put into it and food on the table? That shit was a foreign concept to Angel.

He bit down on his bottom lip with a slight hum, finding himself devouring the sweet in his hand before wondering if he should have dabbed a bit more perfume on before arriving.

 "But don't cha think this is a bit much for a Saturday night dinner?" He replied with a hum, fidgeting with the fabric of his golden dress, his light pink eyes flickering over the assortment of flowers with a slight laugh across his lips, "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's gorgeous! But what's da' occasion?" 

The overlord quietly adjusted the edge of his bowtie with the tip of his claw, his smooth voice warm with a slight accent as his eyes briefly lingered across Angel Dust's expression. "Just a lovely night, I wanted to be around you and discuss some things." 

Angel Dust arched an eyebrow curiously, the end of his palm cupping the edge of his chin with a small smile, "Oh you sure don't beat around the bush." He gingerly reached for one of the empty glasses that had been set up across the table with a small click of his tongue, "But what can I say? I like that in a man."

Husk had remained almost wordless. His smooth lips slightly curled up before quietly focusing on the champagne bottle set in front of them, his large hand curled around the cork with a flickering glance.

Angel Dust adjusted into his seat with a faint chuckle, his long leg spilling over the surface of his thigh as his lingering eyes searched briefly into the honey ones in front of him that clearly seemed to be avoiding his.

"But seriously, Husk." The stern words slipped from the edge of his tongue with a faint laugh before melting into a softer tone, carefully flickering back and forth across his wavering expression. His gloved hand had lightly reached across the table, his fingertips smoothly brushing against his. "You gotta tell me what this is about." 

The gambling demon, however, remained silent. Instead, uncorking the glassy champagne bottle before allowing the fizzy drink to spill into Angel's glimmering glass.

Finally, he spoke. "Angel, this is about our contract."

Angel's eyes briefly flickered towards the question, tilting his head slightly to the side at the topic presented with an unsure smile spreading across his glossy lips. "Our contract?" Angel Dust repeated with a slight purse of his bottom lip, taking a small sip of the drink with a careful lift of his eyebrow, "What about it-?"

The answer came quickly. Husker had smoothly reached for the pocket of his suit with a soft rustle before tugging out a tiny black box, the little item resting comfortably in the middle of his large paw. 

Angel had nearly choked on the drink. Placing his closed hand close to his parted lips before examining the box with a quiet laugh.

"Are you-" Angel Dust quickly raised two of his opened hands defensively into the air at the sudden display, a small heat rising across his face with a strained chuckle. "Wait, give me a second t' think, big guy. We ain't even datin' yet, you gotta give a girl a moment-"

Angel however paused, his voice stopping mid-sentence. His eyes hesitantly drinking the scene in front of him. It wasn't quite like the scenes he had seen on his television screen after his long shifts during work with Fat Nuggets curled contently in the crook of his lap. There were no tears like in the romantic comedies or bendin' down on one knee to pop the question. Just a furrowed expression etched across the overlord's face as his two fingertips carefully opened the box.

It was empty.

"Anthony." Husk finally looked at him with a light breath, his warm fingertips brushing away before his lips finally firmed tightly together, "I am voiding your contract." 

Angel Dust watched as the golden contract materialized into the crisp air, the parchment paper quietly glimmering as his crinkled-up briefly lingered over his signature. The document was inked with his name, 'Anthony' the naively scribbled heart warmly placed right next to it.

His gloved hand quietly reached for the contract, the contractual agreement between him and Valentino that had been done years ago. The memory was a muddled haze at this point, the contract was signed when he was high out of his mind and scrawled across the plush bedsheets of the overlord, the red crimson smoke lingering across his face.

"Huh?" He had quietly laughed, clutching tightly onto the contract before his gaze flickered back & forth between his stiffened expression, "Wait, Husk- what are you doin'?" His smile slightly faltered towards the ends with a faint tilt, "What do ya' mean, voiding it?" 

The soft crackle of the candlelight briefly highlighted Husk's softening eyes, the light dancing across his face before quietly rustling his wings as his feathers slightly wavered. Angel's hands, once steady, now fidgeted nervously around the stem of the wine glass. The warmth of the small flame now feeling suffocating as panic gripped the fluff of his chest, constricting his quiet breath.

"You are no longer bond to me or my casino." 

At first, the words didn't register, barely noticeable to Angel—before the faint shimmer around the edges of the ring began to light up, like a halo of light dancing upon his skin. But soon, the transformation became more pronounced. Wisps of golden vapor rised from the surface of the ring, swirling gently as if guided by an unseen hand.

Angel's eyes widen softly as the ring began to lose its solidity with a light golden wisp, its form dissolving into a radiant mist that hovered in the air. The once-solid metal becomes ethereal, its essence untethered from the constraints of physicality.

The last traces of the golden ring dissipated into the air, leaving behind only a lingering sensation of warmth upon his wavering finger. In the silence that followed, the spider demon blankly stared at the empty space where the ring once resided with a light breath. His eyes falling briefly upon a small velvet box resting nearby across from Husk, its lid slightly ajar.

Angel quietly reached out for the box, watching in an unblinking trance as the golden vapor coalesced once more. With a soft whisper, it returned to its rightful place, nestling within the warm confines of the box as if it had never left.

"Did I do somethin'? Is this some kind of joke?" Angel finally spoke out, his reaction subtle—a slight tightening of the lips, a faint furrowing of the brows—but as the weight of the news sinks in, his laugh started to crack. He tried to maintain his classic smile, but it became strained, the corners of his mouth twitching involuntarily, "Because I ain't laughin', Whiskers."

"I said from the beginnin' this was a business relationship. No hard feelings should be made about the exchange of souls, it's how business is done in Hell." Husk continued firmly, his head slightly shaking back and forth. Despite his warm voice remaining steady, Angel's eyes wandered over the slight twitch of his ears folding lightly, "However, things have changed, and that risks this establishment."

 Angel's had a faint flicker of unease in his wavering eyes, a slight quiver settling on his bottom lip. The twitch of the lips lingered before hesitantly blinking, seeking solace in the dimly lit corners of the balcony. "What?" He quietly rapsed out in a whisper at the answer, "What could have possibly changed-?"

The candlelight warmly wandered across his face, his wrinkled-up eyes searching lightly before Husk finally spoke.

"Personal feelings-" He murmured with strained breath, his long tail carefully stiffening. "My personal feelings have gotten involved."

As the candlelight casted a soft glow, Angel's breath quickened, shallow and labored, as the weight of impending panic settled upon his bare shoulders. His long fingers twitched nervously against the fabric of his golden clothing.

As Husk rised from his chair, a sudden surge of desperation courses through Angel. With a firm hand, he reached out quickly, grasping for an anchor. His gloved fingertips find purchase on the sleeve of his finely stitched suit, his light eyes frantically flickering back and forth.

"You heard what Val said, didn't you?"

Wide-eyed, he held onto the fabric tightly, Angel's grip a desperate lifeline tethering them to the present moment. A silent exchange passes between them, a fleeting moment of connection before Husk closed his eyes softly.

But as quickly as the impulse arose, it faded away. With a resigned sigh crossing his parted lips, Angel released his gloved hand from his jacket carefully, his wavering fingers slipping away with a glimmer of hesitation. But in the waning light of the candles, Husk smoothly raised Angel's familiar hand to the warmth of his pursed lips, pressing a tender kiss against the palm before allowing his hand to wander off.

"Keeping your soul is somethin' no longer feasible for the continued success of this Casino." He finally replied with a slight tremble of his hands, his golden eyes remaining on his expression with a light glint mingling in the bright hue, "And quite frankly, you deserve so much more than what this place or I can offer you, Angel."

Angel felt his throat go dry before shaking his head quietly, "Husker, listen, what'cha doin'-" His glossy lips curved upwards in a strained smile, his eyes remained fixed on the overlord, "It's noble & all-"

Despite his stiffness, Husk's jaw clenched imperceptibly, his muscles tensing as he swallowed hard, flickering with fleeting glimpses before quickly settling once more. "I have livin' arrangements outside of the casino for you if you need em', everything is already paid for." His voice was briefly cracked, the ends of his words mingling with a soft nod. "If you need anything, I'll send an associate to get it for you."

Angel shook his head back and forth slowly, his voice quietly ecaping with a light breath, "Why are you just gettin' rid of me like that? Husk, I thought that we were friends-"

Husk took a quiet step back, his thin staff smoothly appearing within the palm of his hand. "You are the best part about stayin' in this shitty hell-hole." The overlord noted with a slight rasp, his salt-and-pepper hair slightly rustling as he tugged at the collar of his shirt with a light smile. "Made me remember not everyone so bad down here. You deserve a life of your own."

Angel started to scramble out of his chair with a slight stagger at the sudden snap of his fingers, his eyes growing wild.

"Husk, wait-"

"Goodbye, Anthony." Husk snapped his fingertips with a soft smile spread across his face, his eyes growing with a slight crinkle between them that Angel had grown quite fond of. "I hope we can someday catch up over a drink."

Suddenly, a golden flicker of light enveloped Angel, surrounding him in a warm embrace that transported him into a sudden golden light. He didn't even get a chance to yell out, his raspy voice getting caught in the back of his throat before his vision faded.

As the scene shifted before him, Angel stumbled to the floor with a sudden thud as his gloved hands slam onto the floor.

The room he had landed in was bathed in soft, ambient light, casting a warm glow over the lavish furnishings and decadent decor. A crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its myriad of facets refracting light and scattering shimmering patterns across the polished marble floor below.

But amidst the splendor of the surroundings, Angel found himself kneeling in the middle of the living room, his knees brushing on the surface of the warmth of the rug that softly kissed his skin.

The walls were adorned with exquisite artwork, each piece a masterpiece in its own right with its vibrant colors and intricate details. Plush velvet drapes frame the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a glimpse of the glittering skyline of Pentagram City and beyond as Angel Dust hurriedly snapped his chin to examine the place he had been transported to with a ragged breath.

In the center of the room, a sumptuous sofa sat nestled amidst a sea of plush cushions. Nearby, a gleaming grand piano resided by the living room, a small little pink pet bed scooted beside it.

Panic gripped over his heart as he frantically took in his new surroundings, disoriented by the sudden change in environment as he rapidly blinked to adjust.

Angel Dust's breath comes in ragged gasps as his gloved fingers started to desperately comb through the loose curls of his hair, heart pounding with a primal fear of the unknown. He scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of familiarity amidst the unfamiliarity that surrounded him.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement—a gentle rustle of fabric against the floor. Angel scrambled back in hesitation before turning slowly, his eyes softening.

Fat Nuggets.

As the pig approached with light hops between his steps, his soft snout brushed against the spider's wobbling knees with a content oink, a wave of relief washing over Angel. The tension melted away from his bare shoulders, before his strained voice warmly cooed out, "Oh, Nugs. C'mere."

With trembling hands, he gingerly reached out to cradle the pig in his arms to the warmth of his cheek. The rosy, pink pet glanced up at him with a soft glimmer in his dark eyes, tilting his head slightly to the left as his perky ears lightly flopped to the side.

"I think we might be free, Nuggets." He whispered softly.

As Angel held him close, his tears mingled with the soft fur against his flushed face- He reached for the side of his burning cheek quietly, the corner of his half-lidded eyes softly bubbling with fresh tears. Before his eyes flickered around the scene once more.

He felt his chest slightly rise through the fabric of his golden dress, his quiet sobs echoing softly in the cavernous space, mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside. The grandeur of his surroundings seemed to fade into the background, insignificant in the face of their overwhelming relief. Hot tears spilled from his eyes, mingling with the quiet oink that wavered in the air in reply.

and here is part 2! i hope you guys enjoyed reading! thank you so much for all the support on the first part :) hopefully I can publish the final part of the fic sometime soon, but i appreciate all of your love!

Inside the casino, the air was mingled with the sweet scent of cocktails and the faint hum of slot machines. The main hall was adorned with opulent chandeliers and the whispers of bluffs and big wins echoed amidst the clinking of chips and the shuffling of cards.

The soft murmurs of the casino trickled in the background as Angel Dust smoothly ran his fingertips across the railing of the balcony, his gloved fingers curling around the golden accents of the railing with a quiet strained laugh.

Surrounding him, the surface of the balcony was adorned with an array of golden flowers, their petals gleaming like precious metal in the fading light of the crimson sky. Each petal softly glowing as Angel plucked one of the roses quietly, his thin fingers adorned with the sleek black material of his gloves that rolled the stem of the following between his thumb before allowing it to fall from his grip.

Angel Dust couldn't help but wonder what the fuck was wrong with him.

Well, plenty, really. But what had been wrong with him in that particular moment was what had been fucking with him.

One of the casino's clients had hit on him. A regular. Decent looking, easy on the eyes, even sorta funny. The demon had struck up a conversation with him early in the evening, smiling with a confident grin and a fat wallet that was spilling with crinkled-up bills.

The conversation was smooth, nice, even. Even asked him a couple of questions about himself throughout the night through the scattered games of cards and blinking slot machines. But when the guy had leaned over and gestured to kiss him, bringing one of his crooked fingertips underneath the edge of his chin softly, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Working under Valentino, Angel had gotten used to the sudden touches across his skin and advances made toward him under the harsh lights of the fluorescent filming studio. He had grown accustomed to the harsh linger of swirling smoke across the breadth of his clients or the surface of the palms wandering over the bareness of his thigh for a moment too long.

This should be easy for him. Piece of cake, even. And for a while, it was. Just a quick flutter of his lashes, a small giggle behind every sip of his glass, a pretty smile played across his lips often with a sweet praise at their win-

So why couldn't he kiss him? Why the fuck couldn't do it now?

He scrambled for his clutch purse with a scoff under his breath, gingerly plucking out his small powder disk to quickly touch up his makeup from earlier. His other hands smoothed out the golden fabric of his fitted dress that snuggled his thin frame, the material softly shimmering under the hue of the night sky.

"Angel?"

The voice was warm and smooth like melting honey, almost making him sigh as the words wandered by the entrance of the balcony ever so cautiously. The spider demon perked his head towards the doorway with a slight tilt, the soft orange light of the bustling casino contently spilling onto the emerging figure.

"Hey, Whiskers," He whispered back.

Husker's golden eyes had grown soft under his long wispy lashes, the crisp dark suit he wore freshly ironed as he lingered by the doorframe, holding two champagne glasses carefully within the grasp of his thin claws.

"You alright?" His tone was gentle yet raspy, the light tousles of his smoothed-out fur brushed back neatly, the hints of salt and pepper locks peeking out that Angel had been tempted so many times before to comb through with his fingers. "Were any of those fuckers out there bothering you?"

Angel Dust smiled lightly with the small reveal of his golden tooth at the feline, leaning his lanky frame across the railing with a small laugh. "Ah? The king of hearts is all worried about lil ole' me?" He placed his gloved fingertips playfully across the white fluff of his chest that had been adorned with pearls, the splash of gold neatly applied across his eyelids shimmering. "I'm flattered, Husky. Truly, but I'm just catchin' some fresh air."

Angel turned his back to lean his elbows on the surface iron railing, another one of his long hands tentatively cupping the edge of his chin warmly into his palm. "No need t' feel like ya gotta check in on me, big guy." His voice smoothly slipped out with a content chuckle, his dark lashes brushing past his pale cheeks.

There was a brief moment of silence between the both of them, the hum of the slot machines chimed with the occasional roar of excitement erupted from nearby tables where players celebrated their wins or groaned in disappointment at their losses.

Angel had half expected the hear the faint click of dress shoes to slip back towards the noise of the bustling casino, the ends of his teeth sinking into the edge of his glossy bottom lip. His hands slid down smoothly to the pearly white fur of his thin arms, examining the small gold band that wrapped around his finger quietly.

Except, he felt the slight rustle of fabric beside his elbow, and a small gesture of the glistening champagne glass towards him as the demon stood next to him.

Angel quietly blinked at the small offer of champagne, his thin fingers carefully began pinching the stem before glancing back toward the gambling overlord with a pursed lip, his expression softening under the soft hue of the lingering light that wandered from the casino.

"I wanted to." Husk replied, his golden eyes crinkling lightly with a quiet flicker as his smooth hand wandered over the length of his ear with a small sigh, "Too loud out there anyways with all drunk assholes slobbering all over themselves at the bar, it hurts my fucking ears after a while."

Angel Dust took a sip of his drink at the remark, a playful smile spread across the ends of his lips before pressing the tip of his finger on the bowtie the overlord wore and giving it a small singular tap. "You tellin' me," A laugh mingled happily at the edge of his words, dripping with a hushed grin, "If I gotta laugh at one more time over the same shitty pickup line I might ask Satan himself to tear my arms off and jam em' in my ears."

Husk had chuckled quietly in reply, the city skyline glittered in the distance, a sprawling tapestry of lights that painted the night. The soft strains of a jazz band filtered through the open doors as they stood side by side, the subtle shiver that ran through Angel's slender frame. His elegant dress nearly grazed the marble floor, perfect for the upscale occasion, and seemed ill-equipped to shield him from the faint chill of the night.

Without a word, Husk reached for the coat that had been lazily slung across his shoulders and unbuttoned, a soft jacket that had kept him warm most nights at the casino. Angel Dust felt the light fabric drape across his bare shoulders, the faint musk of cologne lingering on the ends as their eyes met for a moment.

"You shouldn't ever have to be cold, y'know," Husker said softly, his voice light with the deep swirls of honey that seemed to be dripping with a warmth that Angel wanted to sink into.

Angel smiled, the corners of the dark pink pricks of his eyes turning upward as he tentatively wrapped the coat around himself. The shared warmth and lingering scent of fresh champagne was sweet across the coat, he noted to himself. "Thank you," He whispered, his voice a breathy murmur that mingled with the night breeze. "Such a gentleman, huh?" He teased with a crooked smile, taking a small sip from the glass that still was cool between the grip of his fingers with a waggle of his pointer finger. "Careful there, ask a girl to dinner before you start giving her the wrong idea, Gatinno"

The gambling demon hummed with a smooth laugh of his own, finally resting the empty champagne glass on the surface of the balcony railing with a snort, "If letting your ass freeze out here is giving the wrong idea, can't imagine what might be the right one," His red wings fluttered a bit, tucking themselves carefully to his sides, thoughtfully placing a claw to the edge of his curled up lip, "Though, dinner ain't sounding half bad right 'bout now."

The ripples of his dress wrinkled with a golden shimmer as the former adult actor nuzzled into the scent of the coat, his fingertips tugging the small buttons of the coat with a light flicker of amusement crinkling in the corner of his eyes, "Ah~! Didn't drink enough tonight to fill that stomach of yours, Kitty cat?"

The corner of Husk's mouth curled at the comment, leaning slightly closer to tap the edge of Angel's champagne glass, so close that he could almost feel the smoothness of his breath lingering on his words, "I'll have you know, that drink you're holding was actually supposed to be for me, Legs."

"Oh, what an honor!" Angel's eyes briefly sparked with mischief, dramatically placing a hand to his chest to feign offense at the remark, "Do sure know how to make a gal feel special, hm?"

The streetlights below them had now flickered to life from the sight of the balcony as they both chuckled, casting long shadows that danced across the pavement like ghosts in the night. The distant hum of traffic gave way to the rhythmic beat of music, drifting up from hidden clubs and bars nestled among the labyrinthine streets below.

Husk brought his elbows to the edge of the metal railing as Angel felt his arm slightly brush against him, quietly feeling the warmth of his sudden touch. "This is my favorite spot in this whole joint, y'know?" He spoke with a faint glint, the white buttoned-up shirt softly rustling with the light winds that tugged at the ends of his combed-back hair.

Bringing a gloved hand to his puffed cheek, the spider demon took a curious glance over at the overlord, an eyebrow cocked playfully towards his direction at the statement. "Seriously? Full of surprises aren't ya, kitty? Thought it was the bar-"

Husk shrugged his shoulders with a lazy grin spread across the corners of his mouth, "Which is a close second," He confirmed before relaxing his grip of the sleek railing with a tight whistle. "But from here? You can see all of Pentagram City. Part of the reason I wanted to build my casino here was when I first got started. Ain't nothin' in all of Hell comparing to this view."

Husk met Angel's eyes for a moment, lightly nodding to himself before flickering back towards the scene below them. "Well, perhaps a few things."

Angel Dust dragged his fingertips across the surface of the balcony railing with a hum perched across his curled lips, "I can see why ya like it so much." He laughed with a hand brought to his chest, another waving a small hand into the air with a soft sigh, "Y'know, growing up, my sister used to wanna go out and see all the big cities. When my pops would be out and ma was at church, my sis would let me get all dolled up in her dresses and we would pretend to be like those big Vegas showgirls."

He didn't know quite why he had shared that with Husk. He rarely mentioned his family like that during his time alive, which gave him far too many headaches trying to recall memories that had seemed to now become a hazed recollection of a life he could no longer recognize as his own. Hell, maybe it was all the drinks he had drank throughout the evening. He couldn't honestly figure out what exactly caused it.

"Bet she would be losin' her mind seeing me in a dress like this." Angel continued with a small snort to lighten up the sudden shift, bringing the tips of his fingers down the soft fabric that embraced his slender figure. "Ain't ever got t' wear something nearly this nice when I was with her."

With a softening expression, Husk nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "I bet she would be." Husk had straightened up slightly, his voice slightly melting into a rasp that mingled with his breath as his lips pursed. "You look stunning, Angel, really."

The spider demon could feel his own face heating up, taking a moment to run his fingers carefully through the curls of his hair before gaining some composure.

"Ain't too bad on the eyes yourself, Husky."

Before the conversation could carry any further, an imp had quickly entered cautiously by the entrance of the balcony. He wore a small waiter attire, a simple buttoned-up white shirt and a dark vest that was tugged neatly on the top. The waiter had rushed up to Husk, quickly whispering a few things before scrambling back with a metal tray balanced meekly on his arm.

"I gotta take care of a few things," Husk softly said with a sigh, his light golden eyes finally flickering carefully towards Angel. He gently reached for Angel's hand, lightly running the surface of his thumb across the smooth fabric of the glove before warmly placing a faint kiss on the back of his hand. "Scusa, caro." He whispered, his words still lingering on the back of his hand as Angel could feel a sudden warmth spread across his cheeks at the brief Italian words that the overlord had spoken.

Blinking and attempting to ignore the sudden heat sent across his face, Angel quickly scrambled for the thick coat that remained comfortably across his shoulders, flusteredly extending it back towards him with a bashful expression etched across his sweet features. "Your coat, Husky- Here, take it back before ya head inside." He insisted, finding his eyes more focused on the floor pattern rather than the demon that stood in front of him.

Husk had glanced at the coat before waving it off with a faint grin, "Keep it, I got plenty." He replied before looking at Angel for a moment longer, "It looks better on you anyway."

Angel Dust smiled quickly, holding the coat closer to his chest with a quiet breath. The finely stitched coat complimenting the golden fabric of his gown as his fingertips gathered the material closely.

"Thank you, Husk."

Husk nodded; a faint warmth spread across his face with a small smile in return.

"Of course, Anthony."

a/n: this au is everything and i love it so much :,))

and i suggest listening to "habits" cover by haley reinhart, it fit the jazzy feel of the casino i wanted for this fic & overall reminds me of angel <3 and stay tuned, i plan on actually making this three parts so lemme know if you wanna @ to be notified :D

"And I mean this in the most lovingly, sugar coma-inducing way I could put it, no f̶̢̢̣̳̜̼͈͚̭͖̈́͊u̷̧̝͉̼̼̽c̷̲̘̙̖͇̳̀̑̈́̈́͗̓̑͘̚k̴͍̘̩̝̟̎̀͋̑̎i̷̫͓͈̒n̵̛̲̩̩͓̮͎̙͍̺̓̃̒̎̄̿͠g̸̲̬̍̃͘ way."

The rabbit softly picked at the side of his yellow teeth with the pinky finger of his glove boredly, a cheeky grin tugging at the ends of his mouth at your frustrated sigh.

"You haven't even heard what I was gonna ask!"

You both were chatting in your designated room, the whole theme soft and vibrant with thin fabrics flowing from the ceiling with twinkling lights that intertwined carefully. Your bed was a colorful arrangement of stitched pillows and thick blankets, plushes of antique dolls contently piled together.

Beside your bedframe was a small white mirror with a slight crack in the middle of the reflective glass- One that you rarely glanced at since your arrival a few months ago. You would hardly recognize yourself even if you did now.

You had been warped into the appearance of a marionette.

"And I know whatever it is- is trouble." Jax smoothly hummed with a small chuckle as he fiddled with one of the crocheted dolls that rested on your bed. Jax had his lean frame sitting lazily on the edge of your quilted blanket before placing his hands behind his head with a wide shit-eating grin settling on his lips. "As pretty as you are, sweet cheeks, it ain't worth it."

Crossing over your wooden arms at his demeanor, you jabbed one of your fingers towards the middle of his soft pink overalls, his long ears slightly bending at the sudden poke. "When have you ever been one to turn down some mischief?" You teased with a laugh mingling in your tone, "What have you done to my Jax, huh?"

Clicking his tongue, the rabbit simply closed his bright yellow eyes, bringing the back of his palm towards his forehead with a dramatic sigh before throwing his head onto the middle of your lap, "Consider me a changed rabbit- I'm as holy as they get now."

You brought the thin strings that attached to your arms to the center of his face, watching as his expression scrunched up with a small giggle stifling, "As if-" You mused out.

Blinking with a quiet laugh, the purple rabbit had a lazy wink spread across his smooth fur, "Alright, humor me. Hey, I might even laugh a little." He finally chuckled, one of his ears quickly flapping comedically straight up, "What were you gonna ask lil ole me?"

Even though you had only known Jax for a few months, the guy had been sweet despite his sarcasm and dripping with ease for the chaotic world that surrounded him. You guys had gotten close and had conversations amongst yourselves, Jax confessing about his previous life outside the circus. Despite having a rough upbringing and becoming homeless after getting kicked out of his foster home, he was excited to start a new life on his upcoming birthday.

If there was anyone to share your feelings about, it was him.

"I want to try to escape." Your smooth fingertips dug into the fabric of the spotted black & white trousers you wore with a quick breath, your dull eyes flickering towards the ceiling to avoid his wandering gaze, "I want to make an actual attempt, and I need your help-"

Snickering, Jax casually rose from your lap, the thick pricks of his eyes glimmering in amusement, "Cute and a comedian!" Tapping the side of his cheek with his pointer finger with a lazy grin, he sighed, "Aren't you just adorable?"

"Jax! I'm being serious!"

Raising both of his gloved hands to his chest defensively, Jax's narrow shoulders hunched up with a mingling laugh, "Woah! Don't get your strings in a twist, sugar! So am I! Look, my brow is even furrowing."

"Won't you even try to listen to my idea?"

"An idea? So it ain't even a plan?"

"Not yet- but-"

"No then."

Rising from the edge of your bed with a sigh, your wooden fingertips hand curled into your palm. With a quick snap of your wrist, the edges of your wool locks of hair slipped by the sides of your perked ears that had become warm at his brashness.

"I knew it!" Your thick fingers quickly pinched the bridge of your nose with a sharp laugh escaping your breath, "You won't even take the chance that something might be out there?"

The rabbit's large eyes flickered across your furrowed expression back and forth, his own smile slightly faltering. He had begun to rise to his feet, his lean frame towering over yours with his thumbs jammed into the pockets of his worn-out overalls.

"You saw what happens when people do, [y/n]."

Finally releasing the bridge of your scrunched nose, your head shook with a snappy laugh dripping from the ends of your painted lips, "I knew I shouldn't have bothered to ask you about this!-" You whispered with a slight hiss, bringing your hands closely to the ruffled fabric of your chest with a soft laugh, "All of our friends are slowly going insane and you can't even pretend to remotely care-"

"Don't." His voice had finally shot out, instead of the smoothness of his easy-going voice that would mingle, his gloved finger pressed against the surface of his chest with his pale-yellow teeth gritted, "Don't you dare say I don't care. Because outta everyone here, I probably care the most."

You had blinked at his sudden tone shift before you brought the palm of your hand to your forehead with a small smack, sarcasm seething from your words that itched from the back of your throat. "Right! You care the most!" Your smooth lips curled up into a strained smile, "I nearly laughed myself there! You sure seemed to care when half of our friends got tossed into the cellar-"

His hand had shot above the space behind you, firmly placing it on the plush wall at the lingering sentence that failed to escape your burning lips. He had cornered you. The lazy drawl that usually occupied his expression stiffened as Jax looked down at you with a faint scoff.

"It might not look like it, Toots, but I actually do give a f̶̢̢̣̳̜̼͈͚̭͖̈́͊u̷̧̝͉̼̼̽c̷̲̘̙̖͇̳̀̑̈́̈́͗̓̑͘̚k̴͍̘̩̝̟̎̀͋̑̎." His ears had curled up before shaking his head with a slight breath, "Just because nobody bothered to ask doesn't mean I don't care."

Jax lowered his expression, his shoulders slightly tensed before clicking his tongue once more- "But we are stuck here, don't you get it? Stuck. It's been years and no one has managed to escape or literally gone mad tryna escape this place. My friends, [y/n]."

Your room had grown quiet, only the faint lingers of the music box that resided in your room quietly humming as the bright red paint had begun to chip off. Your button eyes had flickered to his cold expression, the ends of his pale teeth peeking through.

With his other hand, Jax had brought his gloved fingertips underneath his round chin, tapping it dramatically with a small hiss, "If I act like everything is fine and no biggie, it might give everyone some more time from going abstract, even if I have to lie through my teeth."

Finally, he had removed his large hand from the surface of the wall behind you, before dropping his head to the edge of your shoulder with a 'thud!' "I can't lose any more friends" The rabbit whispered carefully, turning his head slightly to examine your quiet frame with a light smile, "I can't lose you."

Resting your back against the wall with a soft sigh, your hands lingered by the back of his head with a glimmer of tears surrounding the edge of your buttons, "Jax, I'm sorry about what I said." You breathed out, resting the tip of your chin on the top of his head for a moment with a small crack. "I just really want to go home."

Jax's long ears had slightly flattened under your chin, his breathing soft before quickly adjusting the small wrinkles of his overalls and returning to his height, your bright round eyes staring at his with a quick blink.

"Tell me."

"Huh?"

Casually stuffing his hands into the pockets of his overalls once more, the rabbit had lazily shrugged with ease, a small nod shot down to you, "Tell me about this idea you got, alright?" He repeated, his head slightly cocked to the side "And I'll help you-"

"Really?"

He punctuated his sentence with a light jab to your chest.

"Under one condition."

His eyes warmly flickered to you, remaining focused on the soft scrunch of your eyebrows.

"If it don't work out, you gotta give up on tryna leave this place together."

His smile had remained lopsided, with a single hand extended carefully for you to shake on the deal, his eyebrow slightly twitched. Your words remained burning on the tip of your tongue, lingering across your lips.

He would help you.

As long as you agreed, he would actually help you.

With a lopsided smile, your hand had smoothly reached for the warmth of his hand.

"Deal."

Xiao often preferred to be on his own. It was far more convenient that way. No wandering attachments. No strings attached. No potential feelings hurt. Far better suited for his long-awaited life as a Yaksha.

His gloved fingers strayed over the pearls that adorned his neck, his touch wavering over the light tattoos that decorated his pale skin with a small sigh.

Or perhaps he had convinced himself over the passing years that he desired it to be that way. The lines of that lingering want have long been blurred amongst the blood that tainted his fingertips.

He quietly stood by the firm balcony railing of Wangshu Inn, the cool winds smoothly tickling his cheeks as his golden eyes remained focused on the twinkling lights of the Lantern Rite Festival. Whether he liked to admit it or not, the yearly festival was a slight comfort that warmly glimmered through the dark Liyue sky.

"Xiao?"

Of course, you had proven to be the exception when it came to desiring a company. 

The soft blue fabric of your ruffled kimono hugged your frame as you tentatively lingered by the rounded entrance, the delicate embroidery swirling into fluffy clouds that stitched around your waist. Lowering your softening eyes, they faintly reflected the wandering lanterns that playfully danced in the crisp air. 

You looked lovely. Xiao could never deny it.

"You always seem to know where to find me, Traveler." Xiao tapped his slim fingertips on the smoothness of the railing, his quiet breath mingling as the soft winds playfully brushed past the ends of his choppy locks. "Whether I like it or not."

You softly smiled, walking behind him with your warm fingers intertwined shyly behind your back with a teasing laugh of your own, "Hardly a challenge-" 

Your eyes lingered on the small platter that rested in front of Xiao on the edge of the railing- A pretty white plate with a generous portion of sliced tofu placed in the middle of the surface, small flowers elegantly decorating the edge of the food. It was homemade, slightly dropping at the sides.

"Almond tofu, huh." You murmured with a content sigh as he quietly handed you a wooden spoon, his firm gaze remaining focused ahead. "Is that for me?"

Xiao's delicate hands wandered toward the back of his heated neck at the sudden question, "I accidentally purchased an extra at one of the local stands." He clarified at your suggestion, scooping up some of the tofu to the edge of his pursed lips. "It would have gone to waste if I hadn't given it to you."

You let out a muffled chuckle, quickly gathering the almond tofu on the edge of your spoon before promptly shoving it into your mouth. You had tried plenty of Liyue cuisine from Xiangling during your visits to her kitchen, her excitement to have you try her visionary platters infectious- However, the tofu was soft and slightly sweet on the tip of your tongue, different from the previous spicier meals you had sampled.

"It's delicious!" You gasped out with the wooden spoon now remaining settled in the side of your puffed-out cheek. You turned to the young Adeptus, his golden eyes flickering with a soft brightness at your widening expression. "Are you sure you didn't make it?"

The tips of his ears grew slightly flushed at your question. Turning away from your nudging shoulder.

"Why do you say that?"

"It's a little sloppy looking, no?" 

Your teasing tone caused Xiao to snatch the ceramic plate back from your grasp with a hushed grunt, a small smile of his own that rarely tugged on the edge of his smooth lips. 

"Forgive me, next time the trash will be a proper place for an extra almond tofu." The Adeptus drawled out in the softness of the Liyue wind, the tips of his deep teal locks curling around the edge of his chin- Despite his choice of words, a warmth wrapped around his raspy voice that was damn near a laugh to your ears.

The festival night was filled with the melodious sound of traditional music played on ancient wooden instruments below. Musicians and performers walking along the cobble path brought tales to life through dance and song, while the aroma of street food vendors of matsutake meat rolls and rich rice buns wafted through the air.

Your own laugh was quiet, both of your shoulders softly brushing near one another as you stood by Xiao near the Wangshu Inn railing, admiring the scenic view that carried in front of you. Your smile slowly slipped away from your expression.

Next time.

You took a step away from him.

"Xiao-" You began with a wavering sentence, your normally firm voice slightly straining as his own softened expression finally reached your lowering eyes- "About that, I-"

"Is everything okay?"

"I plan on leaving soon in a few days, for Inazuma." 

The words hung in the air with a sudden weight, Xiao had finally turned to look at you as if your sputtered-out words hadn't fully sunk in for him. His gold eyes mingled with a warm shade of bright orange that felt like the embers of a flickering yet all-consuming fire.

The light blue garment felt heavy across your arms, the dark blue ribbon that wrapped neatly across your waist nearly tightening. "The next part of my journey calls for me to travel there, and considering the restrictions for traveling past their borders, I might not return to Liyue for a long time." You whispered out, almost to yourself as your cool fingertips began tightening on the thin railing.

"I see." 

"I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me." You quickly fidgeted for the pocket of your baby blue kimono amidst your sentence, the edge of a pearly white envelope warmly poking out from your side that you had been saving. "And I also thought we could exchange letters during my travels?"

The Yaksha glanced at the crinkled-up envelope you had directed towards his chest for him to accept, decorated with an assortment of stickers plastered across the white surface. His name was neatly written across the middle in dark ink. 

When he finally spoke, for a moment you could see his eyes softening before turning away as a gentle hand pushed the envelope from his direction back towards you silently. "You shouldn't have concerned yourself with that, [y/n]." Xiao murmured, "Focus your energy on your current obligations as I will with mine." 

"Oh."

Adjusting his lowered posture, he turned his gaze towards you and your dropped shoulders, his words reeking out with a sudden formality that you had often hoped he would never have needed to use on you. His gloved hands lingered across his stiffened arms.

 "After all, we were merely traveling companions in Liyue keeping the order and safety of this land. We have our priorities to remain vigilant on, I of all people would empathize with that."

Gripping the letter tightly in your fingertips, the words stung. Perhaps he had meant it as reassurance that it shouldn't be a hard goodbye- But merely? That was all he had accumulated in your relationship? The Yaksha already began to turn away from you, but he looked back for a moment at the sound of your cracking voice.

"That's not true, Xiao-" You cut yourself off in mid-thought, your right hand coming up to desperately to pinch at the bridge of your wrinkled nose and your eyes squeezing shut tight. "Of course, I have other things currently going on in my life, but the reason I suggested the letters was because I just thought that maybe you saw me as a-"

"Saw you as what, [y/n]?" Xiao heard himself ask in a soft sigh, voice flinty with barely concealed resentment, golden eyes flickering.

You snapped in frustration, then continued quickly before there could be a reply.

"A friend, Xiao, I thought of you as a friend." 

You raised the thick sleeve of your kimono to the end of your watering eyes at your faltering voice, the fabric warm against your skin. You tried looking everywhere but him. It felt embarrassing to cry all of a sudden. The Lantern Festival Rite lights didn't seem as bright.

"And it's pretty upsetting-" You managed out quietly with a rasp, the lingering taste of almond tofu stale on your tongue. "That you didn't even think the same towards me."

Tears blindly stung your eyes when you finally met up to reach his gaze, the words you needed to speak lodged painfully in your burning throat as you waited patiently for him to respond. It was too big, too scary, your heart was beating so fast in your chest that you thought it might break.

His expression had been searching for something incommunicable before noticing your tears in sudden realization. His feathery eyebrows carefully raised as his smooth hand reached for the edge of your shoulder in worry.

"[y/n], please wait-" Xiao began pleadingly, his pale cheeks softly flushing before trying to gather your attention, "My intention wasn't to-"

But you had already slipped away from him- Brushing his hand away quickly at his sudden touch with a curled-up bottom lip.

"Save it, Adeptus Xiao."

"A friend, Xiao. I thought of you as a friend."

It was a simple sentence- Yet it burned through him with the way you had said it. Your eyes faintly brimmed with tears along your lowered lashes, the small smile that had lingered across your lips from your conversation before falling when you had finally looked at him.

You looked pained.

He didn't mean to hurt you. That truly hadn't been his intention, watching as the soft light of lanterns trails faintly illuminating the tear stains that lingered down your cheeks. He had wondered if the thousands of years had chipped away at his communication in general. For the moment he had suggested that you were just traveling companions when he knew that he clearly must feel more than just that- 

The soft, silver moonlight bathed the landscape of Bishui Plain, casting a gentle glow over the tall, swaying grass that accompanied his every step. The grass, kissed by a slight breeze, rustled like a bard's lullaby, creating a soothing melody that harmonizes with the occasional chirping of a wandering golden finch.

His gaze had wandered by a nearby stream that trickled softly by his feet, the gentle ripples of local fish humming by the shimmering pebbles amongst the fresh water. The yaksha had caught his appearance in the reflection momentarily. The mask he wore was intricately adorned with a harsh expression and aggressive long fangs.

Adeptus Xiao. You had called him.

You had never referred to him that way.

However, that's what happens, isn't it? His whole thing about avoiding attachments? To remain at a distance to protect others- It just hurts everyone involved if he got close to people after all he had committed, eventually. He had acted foolishly in allowing his feelings to fester.

His feelings for you. When did they get so complicated?-

Dark shadows had begun to take form near the edge of his feet among the reflection of the waters, and from the depths of the field, their distorted shadows illuminated by the pale moonlight. An eerie laughter filled the Liyue air as Xiao's stance harshly shifted to gather their location hidden amongst the swaying tall grass, echoing through the otherwise tranquil landscape. The shrill laughter was unique in the crisp air, echoing through his perked ears.

An abyss mage. He concluded to himself. A few of them.

The handle of his jade spear felt cool against his touch as it materialized with the palm of his gloved hand, grasping at the smoothness of the dark stone that began illuminating quietly. The jingle of his ameno gnosis that remained tethered to the side of his waist obediently churned at the sudden gust of wind that invoked around his gleaming weapon.

He needed to clear his mind.

"You are finally awake, hm?"

Xiao felt the damp fabric of a rag rest across the warmth of his forehead, the soft crackle of the fireplace illuminating the empty kitchen. His eyes fluttered open slowly at the question, his dark lashes framing his pale golden eyes as he quietly placed his fingertips on the sudden dryness of his cracked lips.

He had been resting his back on a thin mattress on the polished wooden floor, a thick lavender wool blanket brought to his rising chest carefully. A stone pot quietly emits a faint swirling smoke from the rustle of the fire. The kitchen that was usually rumbling with the staff of Wangshu Inn to feed the patrons of the hotel in the mornings was quiet, the small shelves stocked with woven baskets filled with a fresh array of picked sweet carrots and radishes.

His light eyes finally flickered to your figure crouched by the fireplace, the side of your focused face softly lit by the crackling fire as your fingertips were wrapped around the slow-stirring wooden spoon within the warmth of the kitchen. Your lips carefully pursed while blowing away the thick steam that lingered by the edge of the spoon, your metal sword shimmering contently by the side of your waist that glistened with splatters of dark blood.

"You are a real pain in the ass, did you know that?” You continued with a small hum, remaining focused on the dance of the flickering flames and taming the bubbling cauldron. The Adeptus had attempted to rise with both of his arms to support his weight with a quiet wince, his ribs wrapped firmly with pale bandages that engulfed the soft tattoos that adorned his pale skin. “The very least you could do is try not to bleed out on my blanket Qi Qi gifted me."

He brought his gloved fingers to brush past the locks of his dark hair from his damp forehead, his faintly cut lips slightly curled at the sudden burning that flowed at the side of his chest.

 Those mages should have been easy- What was he doing? His mind had clearly been elsewhere to be so distracted-

"Here, drink this." Your voice was softer compared to the sternness of previous interactions, examining the dark patterns of your slippers with a small whisper. You had extended a small wooden cup to his grasp, a bitter scent swirling from the lingering steam. "All of it, even if it's gross, will help with the pain."

Your eyes were warm from the light flicker of the fireplace, glimmering contently. The soft blue fabric of your garments now trickled with fading stains of blood that appeared to have been scrubbed out in exasperation. A few locks of your hair were messily scattered across your forehead as Xiao brought his lips to the rim of the cup, his feathery eyebrows slightly scrunched together at the sour taste.

The fire had begun to seep into a soft flicker, the earthy stones that adorned with cast-iron pots and pans, bearing evidence of countless meals prepared with care. The fire within the hearth casts a comforting, orange-hued glow across the room, illuminating the worn copper cookware that dangles from the overhead beams as you quietly remove the wet rag from Xiao’s skin. Your fingertips warmly brushed against his pale skin with a small sigh flowing past his lips. You were tempted to touch the dark diamond that remained etched on his forehead.

“How did you find me?” He finally asked after taking another sip of the bitter drink that remained warmly in his grasp, his voice slightly raspy as a quaint smile tugged the ends of your smooth lips.

“You weren’t too far away from the Inn, it wasn’t hard to notice the Conqueror of Demons getting tossed around like a ragdoll.”

The night outside was quiet and contemplative, the moonlight pouring through the windows, creating pools of ethereal radiance that seemed to beckon you closer to the warmth of the fire. The golden eyes that rivaled the glimmer of the ancient coins that cluttered in the pocket of your kimono, often framed by long, dark lashes fluttered shut.

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft towards you, lowering his face into the palm of his hand quietly. "I really am, [y/n]."

You examined the cup that remained in his grasp, the dark green drink remaining halfway full. The quiet flickers of moonlight mingled with the edge of dark blue strands of his hair that curled beneath his chin.

"Just finish this up, silly." 

After an hour, the lingering smoke of the fire had smothered against the burnt pieces of coal that remained at the bottom of the fireplace. Xiao had remained quietly tucked into the warmth of the blanket asleep, his bandaged chest rising and falling with a light rhythm. You rarely saw the Adeptus look so exhausted.

Gathering up your things into the pockets of your leather satchel, you turned to examine him once more. The wispy fluttering of his lashes, the soft flush of freckles that decorated the tip of his slim nose. Your voice barely came out from the depths of your throat. "I'm sorry, Xiao, I should have listened to you when you were trying to apologize." You managed out, your smooth hands tightly clutching the side of your satchel with a sigh. "I was just hurt." 

You hesitantly placed a hand warmly on the side of his pale cheek, cupping his sleepy expression into the palm of your hand. "Please get better, okay?" You mumbled almost to yourself, the back of your thumb contently running circles over his cool cheek for a moment. "Out of everyone, I would be sad to not see your face when I leave."

You pulled your hand away, a soft smile mingling in your breath to raise back to your feet before feeling the gentle grasp of fingertips reach for your lingering touch.

 Xiao's voice was soft, a whisper that was loud enough to yell in such a silent room. It doesn't grate on your ears, you don't think it grates on his, either. The confirmation does little to make you move suddenly, though. His small hand pulls you back to the flushed warmth of his cheek. His touch nearly aching to press his skin to the place where your hand was. 

"Please," 

Your eyes slightly widened at his grasp for your fingertips, a sudden warmth spreading across your cheeks, "Xiao?"

"Please" He repeated, golden eyes remaining on yours before quietly sinking further into the palm of your hand with a small breath, "Stay with me for a little longer." 

Your breath remained lodged in the back of your throat at the warmth of his hand wandering on your fingertips. The growing warmth across his skin causes you to softly melt into his light touch.

"Okay." You whispered, "For a little longer."

"He's gonna show up, [y/n]." Hu Tao smiles cheekily, placing a hand on your shoulder, her bright eyes shining with the soft flowers that encircled them. She had wore her classic black garments with buttons and her little hat, giving you a small poke on the side of your cheek. "I promise you he will."

It had been a few days now since you had last spoken to Xiao at Wangshu Inn. He had slipped from the window in the early morning before you could talk, leaving the thick curtains fluttering in the crisp Liyue wind. 

Now, it was the day of your departure, and Xiao was yet to be seen.

The bustling pier was a symphony of activity as the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the scene. Seagulls wheeled and cried overhead, their sharp calls mingling with the excited chatter of passengers and the clinking of cargo being loaded onto the waiting ship.

Hu Tao seemed to notice the small scrunch of your eyebrows, your shoulders slightly dropping while examining the ocean that rustled underneath the floorboards of the pier. "He's gonna be gloomy for weeks if he doesn't get the opportunity to say goodbye."

On the edge of the chaotic canvas, the ship stood like a steadfast giant, its crew working in a synchronized frenzy to prepare for the impending voyage. Ropes were tightened, crates hoisted, and sails unfurled. The captain, Beidou, a strong figure in well-worn crimson garments, barked orders with a sharp smile, and her crew scurried to execute them. The ship creaked and groaned, eager for the open sea.

Hu Tao had quickly excused herself to purchase you both some food at the local stand at the pier, her rose-tinted eyes shining brightly with a warm grin glossed across her lips.

As the salty breeze swept through the bustling dockyard, the sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over everything it touched. Amidst the clatter of cargo being loaded and sailors shouting orders, you stood on the edge, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

You wore a thick leather jacket, adorned with various trinkets collected from your past adventures, and your sturdy boots had seen their share of long journeys.

Your fingertips clutched the worn-out strap of a weathered leather satchel containing your meager belongings, a pouch full of mora, a notebook filled with sketches and notes from your travels, and a letter for the yaksha that you hadn't dared to hand to him again since the Lantern Rite Festival.

But just as you took your first step towards the gangplank, a voice called your name, rich and warm like a familiar melody, your eyes widening. You spotted the figure of a short, narrow-shouldered man approaching you toward the bustle of the crowd.

He was holding an envelope within his grasp. 

With unspoken sigh escaping your lip, you let your satchel slip from your shoulder and thud harshly against the weathered planks. Your feet carried you toward him, your breath came in short gasps. The world around you blurred as you saw only him, his small face slightly flushed and uncharacteristically out of breath.

"Xiao!" 

His eyes were bright as his dark hair glistened in the sunlight, and the warmth in his golden eyes filled you with a sense of longing and comfort. "[y/n], the letters-"

"What?"

"Please write me the letters you promised to send before." His fingertips lingered on the edge of your shoulders with a jagged breath, "Write to me every single day, I never want to miss your adventures."

As the last light of day danced on the water's surface, the ship's horn sounded again, a deep, melancholic note that signaled its imminent departure. Families hugged their loved ones, tears and laughter intermingling in their farewells. Vendors hawking their wares from colorful stalls, the scent of fresh seafood and roasted nuts wafting through the air. The constant hum of voices, footsteps, and the occasional blast of a ship's horn filled the atmosphere. Passengers and crew alike rushed on board, the anticipation of adventure and the promise of distant shores lighting up their eyes. 

"I wrote you one, to get us started." His envelope was simple, your name written in delicate cursive in the very middle as he softly scratched the back of his neck. "But please don't read it till after you depart from Liyue."

"I have one for you too." You quietly said, digging for the envelope that was engulfed with stickers, "For you to read when I have left."

Amidst the chaos, the ship stood proudly, a magnificent vessel adorned with billowing sails and polished brass. The crew hustled to load supplies, secure ropes, and perform last-minute checks. Passengers bustled about, clutching tickets and baggage, eager for their adventure on the high seas.

The embrace was a gentle, lingering one. His arms wrapped warmly around your frame, holding you close clung to him as your fingers sunk into his shoulder. Your bodies pressed together, a silent reassurance as your lashes fluttered shut, Xiao's familiar scent of almonds and sea salt mixed with the hint of Qixing flowers. You buried your face into the crook of his neck with a soft sigh.

"I will miss you." 

The Adeptus stood alone on the balcony of Wangshu Inn, bathed in the soft, moonlit glow that cast a silvery sheen over Liyue. A cool, gentle breeze rustled the pages of the handwritten letter clutched tightly in their trembling hand. He hadn't opened your letter yet- Not fully, anyway, only taking a few peeks at the slight writing the poked out.

Xiao was enveloped by the gentle rustle of leaves and the fading hues of a setting sun. The air was cool, and the faint scent of jasmine lingered in the breeze. In his gloved fingertips, he tugged out the folded letter, its paper slightly crumpled from the uncertainty that had gripped them since its delivery at the pier.

As he unfolded the paper, the first few lines seemed ordinary, a recounting of shared memories and cherished moments.

A couple of sentences were scribbled out in ink. The words on the page were filled describing the stolen glances, shared laughter, and moments of silent connection that had been tinged with unspoken affection. He nearly chuckled at your comical scribbling to cut the letter short- But it was the very end of the letter that caught his attention.

"Babartos- What I'm actually trying to say is- I'm in love with you, Xiao. I want you."

He leaned against the balcony railing with a jagged breath lingering on his smooth lips, the golden tinge of his eyes crinkling at the motion of the words scribbled across the page.

The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of Liyue citizens rustling for the night, as the truth of the confession settled upon him with a warmth that flushed the ends of his ears. He gazed out into the dark expanse, realizing that the chance for love had passed, leaving them with only the echo of what might have been with a sudden tear drop staining the very edge of the paper. The letter became a cherished, painful reminder of a love that had silently, and tragically, slipped through his fingertips.

You had wanted him too?

The first clue that something was off about him should have been on the first day you two had met.

You had been resting the edge of your elbow lazily across the surface of the scribbled-on chair in front of you, the lecture room softly buzzing as your muttering professor began pulling up his PowerPoint presentation on the projector.

Introduction to the History of Teyvat to Present Day

Not that you could really give a shit this early in the chilly winter morning, especially with how you found out last minute you had to take this class as a requirement for your major- rushing your ass to squeeze in this class for the semester before any of the remaining spots could be taken. 

The crowded classroom had the hum of the bustling morning filling the air while you lazily fished out your charger from the crevices of the bag. As students filed in, there was a symphony of exchanged greetings, the rustling of book bags, and the soft murmur of back-and-forth conversation.

You had your busted-up laptop propped neatly on the warmth of your lap, a small yawn resting on your pursed lips. You had elected to sit in the back row of the lecture hall for this first day of class to gauge the atmosphere of the classroom. You nuzzled the tip of your chin deeper into the thick fabric of the chestnut brown sweater you had worn as your smooth fingertips wandered over the mousepad, carefully skimming the blaring syllabus in front of you. 

"Can I borrow a pencil by any chance, friend?" 

The voice was soft, almost like the beginning melody of a song into your perked ears- Your soft eyes flickered lightly over to the occupied seat beside you, a young man digging his hand vigorously into the empty pockets of his leather satchel, his pale fingers instead pulling at the fabric of the bottom of his bag pitifully.

His bright eyes were a serene teal, looking towards you with a hint of bashfulness at his situation, the tips of his braided hair sharing the same tinted resemblance of his expectant eyes. He wore a light blue hoodie and worn-out jeans to the lecture, his fair skin warmly blushing against the snug layers that hugged him.

He was ethereal.

"Yeah, it's fine-" You quietly mumbled, snapping from the sudden stare before pulling out a thin mechanical pencil you had packed with you, the edges of the clear plastic having indented faint teeth marks from your late-night study sessions with your roommate, Amber. 

He lightly smiled, a warmth grazing across his thin lips before smoothly accepting the pencil from your grasp. Mouthing out a quick, "Thank you," before turning to focus on the flickering presentation, the soft rustles of his notebook paper humming through your ears.

Your teacher had finally started his presentation after fumbling with the remote of the projector, keeping his introduction short before reviewing the coursework required from your class throughout the semester.

He was a middle-aged man, with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetually disheveled appearance. His wrinkled, mismatched attire, featuring a misbuttoned shirt and untied shoelaces as his wiry glasses, had been frequently perched atop his rustled head, had seen better days, with duct tape barely holding them together.

Truthfully, you weren't really paying attention throughout his discussion of the syllabus. The notes you were typing were sporadic and sloppy at best, you had nearly even forgotten a whole section of notes about the future lessons till the same boy you had given your pencil leaned over, the faint scent of dandelions suddenly lingering.

Dandelions, huh.

"He's going to be discussing the seven divine seats of Celestia," The bright-eyed boy mused carefully, a curious glimmer peeking from the corner of his gaze before lightly tapping the empty section of notes presented on the screen of your dimly lit laptop, "The Archon War," His whisper was soft with the reminder, a small laugh hanging on his pursed lips with the edge of his fingertip curiously placed on the end of his chin.

The muted hum of the old heater provided a constant backdrop to the lecture. Students occasionally shifted in their stiff seats, their movement accompanied by the subtle rustling of winter jackets and scarves. The professor's voice was clear at the very least, carrying in the crisp air as they endeavored to hold the students' attention, your light laugh mingling back. 

"Thanks," The tips of your fingers curiously lingered on the smooth keys in front of you- His notebook had remained unmarked, the occasional eraser mark shyly grazing the paper with a content smile tugging the edges of his coy mouth. You tilted the screen of your laptop towards him from your lap, his pale complexion rosy under the warmth of the fluorescent lighting that flickered above in the classroom, "You didn't take any notes yourself; did you want to copy mine?"

He contently tapped the side of his forehead with a light hum, a quick wink fluttering towards your direction at the sudden rise of your right eyebrow, "I have a musician's memory, I remember most of this by heart." He proclaimed teasingly with a nearly sing-songy voice, his thin hand smoothly tugging on the thick drawstrings of his light blue hoodie.

Your eyes flickered towards his satchel, mostly remaining empty- Except with the small instrument peeking out: The lyre that was tucked away was a small wonder, made to be portable yet grand in appearance. Its body was a gleaming wood, richly stained and polished to a deep, honeyed hue.

As the professor concluded the day's lecture short, the college class began to stir with anticipation for the upcoming event. Students bundled up tightly in heavy coats and thick scarves gathered their array of belongings and began shuffling out of the classroom with soft murmurs, eager to escape the biting cold from outdoors to their next class.

You usually were out the door as soon as it was fucking clear too, no reason ever to stick behind, frequently hurrying to remain in the comfort of your dorm. Much to the disappointment of your roommate, who was very much excited at the prospect of a chattering conversation.

However, you had carefully tucked your closed laptop into the main pocket of your bookbag as your teeth chewed over your plump bottom lip, your voice smoothly carrying over to the boy with the dyed braids beginning to rise from the warmth of his seat beside you, "Are you a part of the school band? My classmate, Barbara, she's part of the school choir-" Your sudden question was immediately joined with the company of the faint tilt of your head, "I just have never seen you before around here."

His excitement was nearly bursting from the seams. "I actually recently joined the band here, I'm a new transfer-" His soft teal eyes shone almost brightly, a faint pop of his lips amusingly slipping out before adjusting the strap of his leather satchel over his shoulder with a shrug, "You certainly wouldn't forget a cute face like mine, huh?"

Feeling the ends of your ears grow slightly warmer at his boldness, you choose to ignore the question with a small scoff, instead scooping up your bookbag to the safety of your bundled arms in the midst of the conversation, "Freshman?" You replied with a soft laugh, your gentle fingertips tightly wrapping around the thin handle of your school bag before examining the youthful spirit hum.

His dark eyelashes fluttered closed at the comment, "Actually, I'm a senior!~" His dainty hands dug around the back pockets of his faded jeans, quickly patting around the thick surface before a small "aha!" formed on his smooth lips, tugging out a small brochure. “I am a bit older than what I look as many say.”

The pamphlet was littered with half-completed doodles across the front page, the information barely legible at first glance as you cautiously took it from his grasp- "You should come to watch me play!" He clicked his tongue cheekily at the offer, waving a small pointer finger at you, "I'm certain you would be entertained with my songs, mm?" 

Before you could muster a reply to his offer, a mysterious yet enchanting melody began playing in the air faintly, your eyes softly widening at the soothing whisper of music. You turned your head to find the source of the sweet song but saw no one there, only a few remaining students rustling up their notes into the safety of their bags, clearly preoccupied. Bewildered, you looked back at the dark-haired boy, but he, too, had nearly vanished into thin air, leaving you with the pamphlet in hand and as he had begun to open the elongated doors of the classroom with a lingering laugh.

The winter air streamed through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting warm, elongated shadows across the worn wooden floors, "Wait-" His damp, white Converse sneakers pausing at your sudden call with a faint squeak as your voice remained thick with confusion, "I didn't catch your name-"

The ends of his braided hair swayed contently over his shoulder, loosely resting his fingertips over the handle of the lecture hall- His peeking smile was widely spread across his face at your sudden interest, a near mischievous glint emerging from the corner of his green eyes that for a brief second, you could have sworn under the swaying classroom lights were faintly glowing.

"Venti."

"The history of Teyvat is important, [y/n]!"

The dorm room was illuminated by a soft, warm glow as you and Amber huddled around your shared desks, engrossed in your studies. The room was adorned with bookshelves filled with classic novels and dented textbooks, and an array of post-it notes and highlighters were strewn about on the surface.

"I know- Which is why I'm studying this for the pop quiz, Amber."

Your roommate had puffed out her rosy cheeks, her hands smoothly closing your laptop shut with a small sigh, "Not just because of that- The history behind Teyvat is extremely part of our culture, of why our world is shaped the way it is. You are a transfer student, it is important to understand the stories and why they are so important." Amber had warmly reached over to run her fingertips over the fur of her pet bunny, dangling a bright carrot to the twitching nose that stuck out from the metal cage.

Relinquishing the snack over to the nibbling bunny, Amber briefly glanced at you with softening eyes, her warm brown eyes mingling with flecks of gold, "It is said that the seven archons were defeated in amidst the war, their remains scattered across Teyvat. Our nation was thrown into chaos, where lands were sent in disarray with the lack of guidance from our gods."

"But they managed to survive? Humanity?"

The brunette sat herself on the edge of her bed, smoothing out her bedroom sheets with her fingers, "Well, obviously, but many believe that the gods survived, regaining their strength and hiding amongst us humans for thousands of years."

Her eyes looked up at you.

"One day, the gods will return."

The memory was fresh of the study session between you & Amber.

Your gloved hands warmly wrapped around the paper cup of hot chocolate that you had purchased, the shimmering golden mora smoothly justling in the room of your back pocket. With a textbook in one hand and a well-worn backpack slung over your shoulder, you balanced a steaming cup in the other. The paper cup was adorned with a seasonal design that seemed to shimmer in the morning light, a small touch of cheer in the otherwise frosty world.

The campus was a world transformed during the first snow. As the first snowfall of the season blanketed the college grounds, it cocooned the familiar landscape in a glistening white tapestry. Every building, every tree, every path, and every bench was adorned with a layer of pristine snow. The air held a crisp chill, and a sense of hushed serenity settled over the campus, broken only by the soft crunch of footsteps and the occasional delighted gasps of students.

You were only going to see Venti for a second. After all, he had seemed rather excited to perform. It wouldn't hurt to slip by for a few seconds to listen to some music.

As you navigated your way through the snow-draped campus, your steps left a trail of footprints that soon vanished in the white expanse. You took deliberate sips from your cup, relishing the warmth that spread from your fingertips to your core. The hot chocolate was a comforting blend of rich cocoa, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Amber had recommended the drink profusely, exclaiming that it was the only thing that had gotten her through her late-night shifts as campus security.

Among the snow-covered trees on the campus quad, the flushed bard had set up his performance space, seeming to have not noticed your presence while muttering to himself- a few wooden boxes messily set up across the snow for a makeshift stage that you quietly chuckled at.

Venti was a modest figure at a closer glance, his wiry frame enveloped in a weathered, woolen coat that had probably seen better days. His dark, tousled hair, and ruddy cheeks were the only bits of color in his otherwise enveloped dark green appearance. His nimble fingers danced gracefully along the strings of a weathered lyre in preparation, coaxing hauntingly beautiful melodies from the instrument.

In the midst of this snowy landscape, you found yourself leaning against the sturdy trunk of a massive oak tree. In your hands, you held a cup of hot chocolate contently, the warmth from which seeped through your soft gloves and into your chilly fingers. The swirling steam rising bashfully from your cup formed a fragrant wisp in the frosty air.

You rarely attended these sorts of events- Due to your busy schedule, you occasionally stopped by a concert or two held by the school to support Barbara and her singing- She was one of Amber's close friends who happened to be a part of the school's prestigious choir program.

You watched the scene unfold before you, a gentle smile played on the end of your lips. Your eyes were drawn to a small male bard who had set up his stage not far from yourself tucked away near the tree. You had ultimately concluded he had an unassuming charm about him, his flushed fingers deftly strumming a lyre once more, while his smooth voice wove melodies that seemed to be born from the winter winds themselves.

As the bard played, your gaze was fixed on him, and you couldn't help but admire his talent, his nose flushed and wrinkled up in the crisp air that enveloped the environment. The soft, haunting tunes resonated with the wintry landscape; each note imbued with emotion. 

The audience, which now had mainly consisted of wandering college students slowly gathering around him, listened in rapt attention, their jagged breath forming misty clouds in the cold.

You would have remembered Venti if you had seen him before- How could you not? He was damn near impossible to miss.

The bard's performance had a dreamy quality, like the whispers of forgotten tales carried by the winter breeze. A chuckle escaped from behind your wool mittens, before stiffening just as quickly.

 Though, you couldn't help but notice something curious. 

Each time a particularly poignant note was struck, a small, subtle gust of wind seemed to dance around the strings of the lyre, rustling his thick layer of clothing and the edges of his dyed hair ever so slightly.

It was barely noticeable. Honestly, you were doubting you had even seen it happen to begin with.

But then- another gust of brisk wind had fluttered the fabric of his dark coat, his brightening eyes glinting playfully at the whispering winds.

Your lowered eyes had caught these brief moments, flickering quickly to his wooden lyre that bathed in the attention that the bard had given him. You shifted your position slightly with your worn-out snow boots crunching under the freshly packed snow, trying to get a better look at the bard as your hot chocolate cup, nearly forgotten in your hand, suddenly felt cooler, though the drink inside was still piping hot.

You watched with a soft breath lingering on your chapping lips, what could you say? Your curiosity was piqued. The hints of wind abilities you thought you had noticed must be a trick of the imagination, you reasoned to yourself. Yet, as the blissful bard continued to play, the enigmatic breezes seemed to return, as if drawn by the mournful melodies.

The audience remained captivated, warmly bundled up students turning to one another in excited whispers and raising of the warm drinks, oblivious to the subtle interplay of air around the bard. 

You- However, had already turned away.

It had been a day or so since you had last spoken to Venti- You weren't avoiding him per se, but with your mind jumbled with upcoming assignments & adjusting to a semester abroad, the bard wasn't exactly easing the whole transition period either.

You briefly nuzzled your chin into the warmth of your freshly washed hoodie- You had elected to wear an ensemble of faded jeans and a pair of well-worn sneakers since you would only be heading to one class for the afternoon: Biology. Your dark backpack was stuffed to the brim with assorted textbooks and notebooks with post-it notes, boring a few coffee spills across the previous semesters, adorned with patches and pins in a measly attempt to cover them up.

From what you noted, the stairwell remained overall silent during the late afternoons, except for the occasional echoes of footsteps and distant voices from other parts of the building. The hushed tones and stillness of the stairwell were a stark contrast to the vibrant and energetic campus life just beyond its walls.

The stairs were constructed of sturdy concrete, its walls painted in a neutral shade of beige that had faded slightly over the years. It featured a broad central staircase with polished wooden steps that bore the marks of countless footsteps. 

You had rounded a corner to enter the stairs, adjusting some of the notebooks you had balanced in your grasp before setting your foot to notice the worn and uneven steps ahead. 

"Hey, [y/n], wait up!"

Then, it happened. A sudden, unexpected stumble sent you hurtling forward. Panic flashed in your eyes as your thick textbooks and multiple sheets of paper rustled into the air to escape from from loosening grasp. The ground seemed to rush up to meet you, and it felt like time itself had slowed.

Your eyes had flickered over to the owner of the voice- It had been Kaeya. The previous teasing smile that had usually adorned his sun kissed skin slipped- His dark hair had been messily tucked behind his round ears, his own expression stiffening at the top of the stairwell as his gloved hand raggedly reached out in an attempt to grasp for yours.

For an agonizingly long moment, you teetered on the precipice, your thumping heart lodged tightly in the back of your throat and your stiffening arms windmilling with the sudden tumble- Your cold fingertips attempted to reach for the edge of the metal railing in panic, rapidly clawing at the crisp air, grasping at anything to prevent the inevitable descent. The sudden voice had jolted you, your bright eyes suddenly widening with the impending collision with the bottom of the empty staircase.

But just as suddenly- the warmth of an adorning wind had fluttered past your skin.

Dandelions.

It lifted you gently and effortlessly at your sudden jagged breath, as though cradled by comforting invisible hands that slithered through the weight of your back. Your fall was halted for a second, only for a second, and you had hovered mid-air.

Your wide eyes met those of the boy with the smell of dandelions, the same bard with the expectant lush green eyes- His pale hands had carefully been placed on your upper back warmly in an attempt to steady your weight in his arms.

The thin ends of his braided hair nearly tickled your warm cheeks as you had frantically clutched the fabric of the thick sweater he had been wearing with your fingers with a small gasp, a single Cecilia pin adorning his chest proudly.

Venti.

He gently lowered you to the ground with his dainty hands quietly remaining on the edge of your quivering shoulders, the tips of his sneakers touching smoothly the final step with a small laugh slipping from his pink lips, you were safe- unscathed. Your scattered sheets of homework assignments decorated the floor beneath you.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, [y/n]-" Venti smiled teasingly, the curled ends of his mouth twinging upwards with a singular pointer finger waddling in the air, "Aren't ya happy to see me?"

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the narrow windows of the school, casting muted, dappled patterns on the walls, but the light felt distant as if the stairwell was a forgotten corner of the college. The soft, muted glow illuminated the dust particles hanging in the air, you had for a moment wondered if you would be able to see lingering dandelions mingling in the air.

Had time stopped?

"You shouldn't have been able to catch me if you were human. Not from there-" You finally managed out with a breath to him, your dark bookbag slumped into the corner of the stairwell before looking up at the bard with a frantic whisper melting into your seeping words, "What are you? Who are you?"

Instead, Venti had smoothly picked up one of the sheets of paper that mingled beneath the edge of his beat-up shoes with a quiet laugh in avoidance of the question or racing mind, "A thank you is usually in order, no? Sometimes even a kiss?" He lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, his words melting with a soft hum, "Never thought an interrogation as a formal way to thank someone."

Your drunken-like breaths had come out in ragged gasps before tightening on the wool fabric of his sweater tightly with the edge of your fingers. "How did you even- What was all of that-" Your bewildered eyes had quickly darted to his relaxed expression in a flicker, searching for a rapid explanation in his softening look towards you, "How did you even know my name-"

 He smiled warmly before his bright green- no- now blue eyes flickered with an emerging glow emitting from them. The playful bard had allowed his parted lips to linger on the warmth of your forehead with a small hum, smoothing out some of the remaining stray strands of hair away from your heated face with the edge of his wandering thumb.

The instant the warmth of his lips touched your skin, an overwhelming wave of warmth and comfort washed you. Your bright eyes grew heavy, and, almost involuntarily, they fluttered shut with a soft sigh before slumping into the softness of his sweater, your wispy eyelashes grazing your cheeks at the final blink. 

The last thing you saw was the Cecilia pin.

"Y'know," He whispered softly with a stray laugh lingering by your cheek, "Curious humans have always been my favorite," 

[y/n]!"

As you slowly stirred from your slumber with a quiet breath, your blurry vision hazily found yourself adjusting to the familiarity of the warm blankets you had nuzzled the side of your cheek on. Drool had pooled on the side of your chin before wiping it off with the edge of your thumb with a small 'tsk'. 

At the heart of the dorm room were two single beds, each neatly made with sheets and comforters reflecting the recent adjustments- Posters, tapestries, or photos adorned the thin walls- Your soft eyes fluttered open to the worried face of your roommate, Amber, her dark brown locks of hair spilling over her straightening shoulders, her golden eyes began widening at your flickering glance towards her kneeling patiently at the edge of your bed.

"Oh thank Barbatos, you're awake," She exclaimed with a light gasp at you small breath, her small fingertips interwoven warmly with your other hand with eyelashes finally fluttering shut. "You had us all worried. You just passed out sitting on the staircase, and we didn't know what happened."

You rubbed the side of your face quietly, your memory gradually returning with a soft sigh encasing your small gasps. Everything that had unfolded on the staircase. You couldn't help but wonder about the Venti- no- whoever he was- who had saved you and then kissed your forehead. It felt like something out of a dream.

Against one wall, two desks sat in a row, cluttered with textbooks, laptops, and notepads, bearing the marks of countless study sessions with bookshelves crammed with textbooks and highlighted notes. Amber had placed her small hand softly on the edge of your blanket, her own lips slightly pursed.

"Where's Venti?" You finally asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and slight raspiness. Your fingertips wandered over the skin of your forehead at the lingering kiss that had crossed it, a warmth spreading across your face before turning quickly glance at Amber.

Amber's expression shifted to one of confusion, her eyebrows quietly raising, "He wasn't there- Kaeya was the one who found you, [y/n], he brought you here."

You tried to explain the situation, recounting the events with the boy who had saved you. But as you spoke, you couldn't shake the feeling that your story was so fantastical, that it might as well have been a dream.

However, the sight on your desk that caught your eye—an exquisite Cecilia flower, its petals a vibrant shade of pale blue, sat in a small vase. You curiously reached out to touch it, your fingers warmly brushing against the delicate bloom.

"Kaeya found this near you," Amber continued carefully, her usually chipper voice softening as she saw the confusion lingering on your face before smoothly adjusting the plush pillow that resided underneath your back with a light laugh. "He had no idea where it could have come from."

You couldn't help but quietly smile, despite the surreal nature of the situation. You knew that Venti was far more than he appeared. He had saved you with a touch of magic, and now, with a single flower that remained blooming on the surface of your desk contently.

Though you couldn't explain the mysteries surrounding the boy, you felt a sense of gratitude and enchantment, he had woven a bit of magic into your world, and you couldn't wait to unravel the secrets he held, one Cecilia petal at a time.

LEONARDO HAMATO ¡! ❞

━━━ leo is known as the most easygoing of the group amongst the turtles, with his nonchalant catchphrases and somewhat dramatic demeanor, the guy breezes through life like a piece of cake.

━━━━ but even so, leo cares about you a lot. probably more than he would care to admit even to himself. sure, he puts up a laid-back front for you, but he quite frankly worries when you aren't around playing video games with him in the lair. sees you going through a rough time at school or struggling to interact with your peers? leonardo hamato portals his ass to sit with you outside on the bleachers during lunchtime without missing a beat.

━━━ you find it quite endearing that despite sitting on the cool metal bleachers outside with a stale hotdog and quite possibly expired milk carton, leonardo happily opens a portal next to you and shares a freshly bubbling pizza slice with you

━━━ this man is practically sweating bullets.

━━━ he purposefully occasionally asks donnie to hack into the security cameras of your school to make sure you are doing alright from time to time- especially if he knows that there is a big event going on that might make you nervous

━━━ "donnie, c'mon, mano! just check for me on how they are doing? they haven't texted me yet and it's their first day! what if they haven't found anyone to sit with?"

"leo, i believe that is what many consider to be stalking." 

━━━ he taught you how to skateboard for a while and even offered to help you customize the board that he bought for your birthday! (he pretended to be in a street costume and offered to take pictures with tourists for a couple of weeks to save up the cash.)

━━━ he lets you ramble all about your interests when you guys hang out on your favorite rooftop spot when you have trouble sleeping- just contently nodding with a bright smirk over the fact that he has managed to get you all excited to talk about your favorite movies or artists.

━━━ when you notice how long you have been talking, he reassures you with an easy smile and waggles his three fingers lazily in the air. honestly, the man could listen to you for hours.

RAPHAEL HAMATO ¡! ❞

━━━ spoilers. raph is the biggest teddy bear around you.

━━━ he was the most nervous among his brothers concerning interacting with you when you had met for the first time. raph was terrified of scaring you off with the way he would tower over you and how you would initially avoid eye contact with him when he would try to spark up a conversation. he even avoided smiling for a while because the big guy was a lil' nervous that his fang was intimidating you.

━━━ nottomentionyouaresotinycomparedtohim

━━━ raph honestly melted into his shell when you comfortably rested your head on his arm while watching a movie together. you didn't even seem to notice your slight shift towards him, he almost forgot to breathe for a second as he just watched you quietly enjoy the film, buttery popcorn gathering close to your lips. you just seemed so happy.

━ he always wants you to feel comfortable. perhaps a bit too comfortable. raph is constantly knitting you soft scarves and mittens when winter begins approaching in new york. warm and fuzzy yarn being crocheted into cute hats. (despite his brothers teasing him over how they could practically only see your eyes peaking out from all the layers he has managed to throw on you)

━"raph, hermano, give it a rest! that is way too much yarn-"

"but i gotta make em' some a scarf, a hat, gloves, some leg warmers-"

"or you can have them looking like a sesame street character, that works too."

━ he is always asking about what you are interested in doing when the gang hangs out. if he notices you want to speak up or your eyes begin to brighten up, he'll always turn the focus of the conversation toward your suggestions.

━ even though it's rare when you do, sometimes you'll mumble out whenever you need a hug from raph. a soft glance in his direction and he already had bent down with his large arms scooping you up tightly. 

DONATELLO HAMATO ¡! ❞

━ donnie is probably the most reserved when it comes to his affection towards you, but when he sees you scratching your arm or nervously glancing at the ceiling frequently, he does what he can to make sure you feel alright and to soothe your nerves.

━ you are probably one of the few people he lets into his workshop willingly to roam around- the only person he doesn't quite mind that tinkers around with the unfinished inventions scattered across his desk with crumpled-up coffee cans and random sticky notes. he'll let you peek over his shoulder to admire his blueprints and ask questions as he works, even when you think he doesn't notice.

━ donatello always has the mini fridge in his workshop filled with your favorite snacks and drinks in case you happen to come in for some company. he would always give you a small shrug and claim that he just so happens to like the same refreshments you do or that the local store April stopped by only carried that kind of chips currently. it had nothing to do with you, or how he knew your eyes would light up munching on your favorite snacks. really. nothing to do with you at all.

━ "i didn't know you had these, donnie!" you murmured excitedly, the surface of your thumbs running over the bright plastic of the salty treat with a light astonishment. 

glancing over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, donatello's eyes flickered over the snack you had been gripping tightly between your hands- his furrowed expression remaining casual before turning back his attention to the burning slight sparks emitting from his project.

"oh, those old things?" he replied with a small laugh, sliding down his mismatched goggles down his face, his brow slightly quirked upwards plainly and his squinting eyes at the snack you lifted towards him, "i eat those all the time."

"really?" your head tilted at the claim, scanning all the neatly stacked snacks lined up neatly on his shelf that were organized by brand, looking almost completely untouched. "this is the first time i've ever seen you-"

"I EAT THEM ALL THE TIME, [y/n]-"

━ donnie plays your favorite music on his speakers while working on new inventions. he remembered when you were excitedly smiling at him, raising your earbud sheepishly towards him about the newest album of a band you liked and offering him to listen- he still could recall from when you showed him your Spotify playlist one time and the glimmer of pure joy in your eyes.

MICHELANGELO HAMATO ¡! ❞

━ THIS BOY LOVES COOKING FOR YOU (it's his love language really)

━ he is always asking you about your favorite meals and searching up tutorials online to perfect them with the proper amount of spices and garnishes by the time you visit the lair for supper.

"raph? can you try this please~?"

"mikey, they ain't gonna be here for another hour and dinner is practically done- it already tastes great!"

"but i need it to taste amazing for them!"

━ if you have a cultural dish that is dear to you, mikey puts extra attention to the details to make sure he has it down to make sure it tastes exactly like how you adore it- it makes his day when he watches you contently take a sip from a dish he has prepared from you and begin to glow up at the turtle's accuracy on perfecting each dish

━ cooking was one of the ways you both bonded with one another. mikey was determined to become your friend, even at your slight apprehension at the sudden brightness of the bumbling turtle waving his cookbooks towards you or dragging you to sketch with him.

━ he also loves drawing for you! sketches and such, he will always eagerly smile at your requests for your favorite comfort characters. he could spend hours dragging his pencil across the paper of his sketchbook, tongue cutely stuck out in concentration before flipping his eraser to clean up the fine details.

Subway cars coated with a fresh coat of paint clanged softly across the rusted tracks, rocking rhythmically back and forth as your mother hauled you with one hand through the bustling streets of New York.

You had just returned from a long baseball practice, the ends of your hair plastered to your prickly forehead from all the sweat as both chubby cheeks shone with the freshly colored coats of your little league's sports colors.

"Gosh, I barely made it in time, huh?" Your mama's apron was still tightly snitched around her waist from her shift at the local diner, patterned with your favorite foods to finely stitched with your colors. Whenever you would see her apron, the aromas of her fresh scent of freshly flipped pancakes after her long day came flooding into your thoughts. 

"Had to take my break a little early!"  She weakly smiled while continuing maneuvering through the brushing shoulders of afternoon shoppers, small wrinkles furrowing as her lips warmly stretched, "I missed you, Bud." 

Your mom worked hard every day, balancing her two part-time jobs and raising a loud-ass 10-year-old in the mix of it all to add the cherry on top. You glanced up at her as her nimble fingers tightly laced with your stubby ones, a few strands of her hair sprayed grimly across her face, most likely from dashing across the city to pick you up from the park on time.

Sure, you guys weren't filthy rich by any means. You lived in a tiny cramped apartment in downtown New York that barely could handle the worn-out mattress you guys had tossed on the wooden floor, the creaky mailbox filled to the brim with thick late fees and threatening electricity bills crammed inside. 

Regardless, your mother would always manage to scrape enough together for food in both of your bellies and somehow to pay for your freshly ironed baseball uniform when the blistering summer rays rolled around.

"Stay here just a quick second by the door where I can see you, alright?" Your mother firmly spoke to you, placing a light hand on your shoulder before fiddling her fingers through the small pockets of her purse for a few wrinkled dollar notes. "Just gonna pick up some veggies for dinner, it will just be a moment."

The cracked store bell that hung from the top of the door softly rang along with the faint click of her sneakers, watching as your mother spoke to the shop owner with a quick greeting and a small smile. The metal bat that stuck out from your patched-up backpack peered at the harsh sunlight before you carefully unwrapped the lollipop you had stashed in your uniform pocket and stuck it in the corner of the inside of your cheek.

The air was thick with exhaust and the sun beating down as the sugary watermelon sweetness hit the tip of your tongue. You looked at the line of traffic on the two lanes that ran between the rows of brownstone houses before your eyes flickered toward a colorful cardboard cut-out.

"Lou Jitsu!" Your lips curled into a bright smile, the hot pink sucker rolling to the other side of your cheeks in adoration of one of your favorite movie stars that were in a shimmering display across the street.

Cars were lined up behind one another creating a long snake-shaped traffic jam as gas fumes from the exhaust pipes filled up the air, making the atmosphere stuffy and clotted. Your eyes noted the bus driver that had stopped at the flickering traffic light pulling out his handkerchief and wiping away the sweat on his forehead for the third time that day. 

Looking both ways like you had been taught by the local crossing guards, you scurried across the street and eagerly plastered your grubby fingers across the display case. Skipping proudly, your nose practically smeared on the glass.

Sure enough, your idol smiled back at you with a flashing printed smile and beaming orange-tinted glasses. Behind him were all of his commercially produced toys & action figures stacked neatly in their plastic glory.

Digging through your pockets, you managed to fish out a couple of single dollar bills that your mother had stashed for you on the kitchen counter every morning for lunch at the school cafeteria. Instead, you had been saving up the cash and skipping out on lunch for a month to buy an extra figurine for your little shelf.

You heard a faint echo of laughter while running your fingers over the last remaining dollar bills, a few chuckles accumulated in the air as your ears perked up from your excitement.

"God, what is that thing doing here?"

Peeking your head towards the noise, you took a glance while bending your knees which were notably trickled with band-aids of cartoon superheroes. 

You had wandered into a garbage-strewn space between two shops. The crumbling brick walls had bowed with age, and laundry hung from lines strung from second-story windows across the gap overhead. Their footsteps echoed as they dodged around loud laughs.

Your eyes finally took in the scene in front of you as a group of no more than four boys was tightly huddled around something while snickering. They were smacking on bright pink bubble gum and the tip of their sneakers was busted up with faint scratches. 

You squinted at the sight, barely making out what they were surrounded by till one of them bent down to poke the huddled figure with a crooked tree branch.

They had been surrounding a dark green shell, barely the size of your bookbag from what you could tell. For a moment, you could see two dark eyes peering back at you, the faintest red marking etching the turtle's face.

They continued to snicker, one of the boys proudly placing their shoe on top of the shell with a snarky grin etched across his lips as if he had won the biggest trophy.

You had truly considered turning back to get your mother from the store to help or tell the boys off, your sneaker tips flickering from the scene in front of you to the glass display of the local bodega before a faint 'crack!' whistled harshly by your burning ears.

The bully continued to press down on the surface of the shell as all the kids continued to chuckle in encouragement at the sight.

"Hey!"

The group of pre-teens all turned to look at you in acknowledgment, their pudgy faces becoming clearer to you under the flicker of the exposed light bulb. They looked maybe a year or so older than you, their oversized jerseys wrinkling over their baggy basketball shorts that seemed a few sizes too big.

Whom you could assume was the leader of the group opened his crooked mouth to acknowledge and take in your presence as his lanky legs were freckled and coated with scabs, "What do you want?"

Taking a few steps forward, you allowed your shivering shoulders to relax as your voice was ever so slightly quivering, "Just leave the turtle alone, it probably just got lost from its owner." You retorted with a light spat, your strawberry-flavored lollipop hitting the roof of your mouth lazily.

"We just found the thing wandering on the street." One of the boys snickered back, colorful metal braces glimmering on his jagged teeth before sneering at you, "Doubt it has an owner." The kid finally mused dryly, his dirty sneaker still resting its sole on the smooth surface of the shell.

You felt fear in the feathery hair on the back of your neck like invisible fingers running along the length of your spine, a few inches in height over you outnumbered you if you decided to pick a fight. 

You weren't a bad kid by any means, but you sure as hell had your share of times sitting your ass in the principal's office waiting for your mom to pick you up.

Regardless, your mama taught you better than to leave anyone on their own- You straightened up with a slight jut of your chin towards the small circle, eyeing the turtle carefully through the corner of your eye.

"Just leave it alone-"

He took a casual step forward with a lazy grin before lifting a single bushy eyebrow as you swallowed the lump that had swelled up in your throat, "And what are you gonna do?" The boy mocked with a fat jutted bottom lip in your direction.

As he grew closer, his outstretched fingers landed harshly on the edges of your tightened shoulders. You whirled your arms frantically at the sudden movement, a sickening sense of no longer being supported by your feet as your stomach did a flip. 

Stumbling back, your thick shoe dug quickly into the cracked cement of the alley as the clique crackled laughter amongst themselves at your light tumble.

Your eyes had squeezed tightly. Ten seconds passed, later twenty, thirty, and finally, the pain started to pull back like the tide going out. It left your tightly curled-up fingers first and then slowly worked its way up your stiffened arm sprinkled with faint cuts across your skin, the lollipop that had sputtered out of your mouth crushed underneath his muddy shoe.

What did your mother say to you? You wondered while examining the fresh scratches that flickered across your wrists- That a punch was fair game if they threw the first one? If they hit first, at least make sure you win? It seemed pretty applicable to the situation you were currently in. 

Heart drumming against your chest, you're frozen on the floor. The seeming leader of the group began to stare at you boredly, your other stiffened hand lingering over the soreness of your right cheek before staring back into black eyes with wide ones. "Don't-"

Your cracked voice got caught in the dryness of your throat, and your bottom lip slightly cracked before something cool brushed against the area of your bare neck from your bookbag. 

The eldest of the group once more took another step towards you while his patchy eyebrow curled upwards- Right as he could lay another hand on you, you swiftly yanked out your metal bat from the carefully tucked away spot in your bag. Your scraped knuckles had run across the cooled surface briefly in consideration before you had slammed it across his pointed knee.

The initial shock of it all is passing, and you feel your shoulders hike up with the tension. Your light fingertips fumbled with the grip of the coolness of the handle of the bat as it clattered harshly across the smoothness of the concrete underneath you.

The hit was quick, imagining that in any other scenario that your baseball coach would have been grinning ear to ear at how nimbly you adjusted to hold the bat. The pain, however, was seemingly like fire burning up his legs. The boy winced as his reddened hand flew to further cradle his leg with a scrunched-up expression close to his chest. 

Before another word or threat could escape his curled-up lips, you had snatched up the turtle shell frantically into your arms with a hurried swipe. The smoothness of the distinctive shell now brushed on the grim of your striped uniform as it huddled to the warmth of your sprayed-out hands.

You stumbled over the muddy laces of your sneakers, and the steady pound of your footsteps echoed into your crackling ears. You felt a thick bead of sweat roll down your forehead and splatter to your wobbling chin with each stride. The soles of your shoes hit the cracked pavement of the alleyway with each thundering step.

The boys had huddled around their friend from the corner of your eye, a faint trickle of purple hues already blooming across his freckled skin where you had ever so precisely struck him.

"Metal doesn't taste too great, huh, amigos?" A voice had trickled out with a mingled laugh, unfamiliar but full of childlike wonder and teasing fluttering in the air, "Oh! I wish you guys could see your faces right now!"

You couldn't focus on the sudden voice or give it a second thought about where it may have escaped. You had fled away from the cramped alley, your eyes desperately scanning across the bundles together shops & boldly printed signs exclaiming exciting daily new deals. You spend around a tight shop corner, nervously bouncing off one wall, arms flailing to keep your balance. 

There was a harsh sting in your hand as you were stumbling through the crowd of shoppers mingling across the sidewalk through the building, passing by each shop display and ignoring the worried looks passing buyers shot at you. A person calls out to you as you accidentally brush shoulders against them, whispering following your jagged path.

You scurried behind a couple of dumpsters that had begun overflowing with plastic trash bags stuffed with rotting leftovers from barbecues and old pizza boxes, holding the turtle shell close to your chest as you pressed your sore back against the brick wall with a faint breath.

The crowds gradually disappear as the afternoon market starts operating in the late evening. The crowds once again had begun swarming around for the evening snacks at the various food stalls and restaurants near the theater or to pick up some refreshing drinks. 

Peeling your eyes away from the stream of people once the coast was clear from any scrambling bullies, your slumped shoulders pressed against the surface of the dumpster before hazily examining the detailed shell in front of you, lightly tracing the lines with your warm fingertips.

"Are you okay?" You tiredly mumbled to the turtle somewhat absent-mindedly with a shrug, wiping away the dirt that smeared across your puffed-out cheeks. Your tightened knuckles were grazed with faint scratches as you let out a raspy chuckle. "Seemed like you were handling yourself just fine."

You briefly thought about the voice that had seemingly called out to the bullies during your escape, tilting your face to observe the delicate details of the firm shell a bit more closely before finally setting down the heavy figure between the wobbling feet of your muddy shoes.

Your eyelashes fluttered a moment to a close, grazing across your cheeks before bringing the edge of your thumb off your nose to wipe it half-mindedly.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." A voice had trickled back finally, a youthful laughter mingling in its tone.

Your posture changed almost instantly, like a cracked whip, and you straightened up at the sudden unexpected response. Your lofty, schoolboy pose quickly transformed while your crossed feet had now spread apart as you backed slowly away from what lay in front of your brightly colored shoelaces.

 A sharp face was staring back at you with a wide-eyed expression and rather expectantly. His brightly shimmering green skin scribbled with huge yellow markings as his eyes shone like pebbles washed by the ocean waves. To finish it off, he had a smile that rested coyly on his lips that ignited an inner laughter of mischief.

No longer refrained from having to remain in his shell, the figure crouched in front of you was a few inches shorter in comparison to you. He couldn't have been much older than you as the grinning turtle sported a baby blue bandana that wrapped carelessly over his forehead that was scrunched up with a few lines.

"Holy fuc-" 

His lanky hand hurriedly clamped over your mouth at the possible escape of a curse, the three fingers lightly covering your lips before motioning with his other hand- His seemingly pointer finger pressed over his slightly outstretched lips.

The turtle's brightly colored crimson streaks coated the corners of his face as his expression tilted towards you to the side, eyes furrowed in mild disapproval.

"Raph doesn't like those sorta words-" His smile never diminished, though his shoulders lowered a bit and his look fell into something more curious before carefully removing his hand from your mouth slightly. "Says it'll rot our brains."

Your brain seemingly stutters for a moment as your flared-up eyes begin to take in the faint hue of light from the flickering neon store lights nearby, every part of you going in a sputtering pause while your thoughts catch up.

"You talk-?" You finally choked out.

"And you just pulled a fat metal bat on those guys, amigue-" He retorted back with a slight chuckle, his smile lazily spread across his face along with the casual shrug of his shoulders. "I'd say we both had our fair share of surprises!"

Blinking a few times at his chipper joke, you tentatively patted for your bat with your open palm as your fingers lingered over the empty spot in the gaping pocket of your ratted bookbag. 

"In case you are looking for your lil ole bat to clobber me with-" The red slider mused while eyeing the notable panic of your hands but deciding to give off a dramatic shake of his head to refute you. "Dude, you dropped it while getting us away from the bullies that I was handling on my own just fine, remember?"

You blink. The freshwater turtle wordlessly gestures to your bag, eyes flitting down to your back before coming back up again as if to say, 'go ahead', and you do.

Shit. You buried your hands into your palms with an exaggerated sigh seeping across your lips. Your mom had bought you a nice bat at the second-hand store and to arrive home empty-handed to practice would earn you a fat scolding surely.

Peeking between your fingers, you stared at the turtle staring expectantly back at you blankly with a snort- "You were totally handling it back there?"

"I was!" He declares, finger raised in the air. The turtle then leans down comically, hand pulled up against the side of his mouth as if he were sharing a secret, and 'whispering' in a loud manner that only he can do. "Leonardo never admits defeat to a bunch of chumps-"

"You were quite literally getting stepped on."

"I was giving them a fake sense of confidence!"

At first, you blink dumbly at him, then you snort after the goofy smile he has is contagious. Light sarcasm comes naturally to him, you assumed.

"Leo-" You nodded, his name carefully rolling across your tongue as you sounded it out. You give a half-hearted shrug, mouth downwards into a frown, eyebrow raised. "What were you even doing? How did you even get caught by those guys?"

He leans back, hands clasped together lazily. His eyes turn downwards towards the floor before wiggling his feet, smile softening, "Sorta got lost, it's actually the first time I've been up here." One of Leo's fingers nervously circles over his bare knee, drawing little stars across his freckled skin.

You fiddle with your uniform's pockets as your hands are stashed away before blinking at him curiously. "Here?"

"The surface-" Leonardo glanced at you before he clarified, signaling outwards with one of his hands. As if to emphasize, Leo's smile widened with a row of sharp teeth revealing a few of his baby teeth missing, his lanky fingers coming to the side of his mouth in a grin with a slight twist, "Handsome guys like myself kinda give people the creeps here, sorta like with you just now."

You pause for a moment, still, then the slight sway of your intertwined hands wiggle as you press your back further to the wall. "I thought you were a turtle. A pet one with a cute lil tank and stuff." You lightly scratched the back of your neck before blowing a dragged-out raspberry defensively, "The talking part caught me off guard, bro."

Leo's demeanor is still cheerful at your response, the voice lighthearted for being in the stance of someone unbothered by being mistaken for a domesticated pet. "Touché."

The ongoing flow of pedestrians talking on their cell phones and drinking some coffee was still lingering as you quickly peeked your head around the rusting dumpster. The constant commotion of conversing voices rages up and down the streets as someone calls for a fast taxi.

"I am not even allowed to be up here yet-" Leo goes to speak, then halts before doing, leaving the air hanging with his realization. His enthusiasm dampers a bit, molding into a flash of confusion before his bandana flattens and his look turns deadpan.``My brother's totally make it sound like such a scary place! So I sorta snuck out just to point to them that nothin' scares me.``

Your eyes flicker over to Leo's hand specifically, his fingertips almost aggressively tapping on his knee for seemingly a semblance of comfort despite his beaming smile. You open your mouth to bring this fact to his attention before deciding otherwise as to whether he noticed your hesitation, you couldn't tell.

Cupping your chin into the palm of your hand, your eyes shimmered in a light glint, "Your brothers, huh?" You muttered out, admittedly more so to yourself but Leo simply grins at your slight dabble of comfort.

"They are probably losing their minds right now, especially Raphie-" Leo chuckled, the blue bandana he wore slipping down his face before hooking his finger around the fabric and eagerly tugging it upwards. "Bet ya in 30 minutes they are gonna be calling dibs on my room though."

You couldn't believe you were engaging in a conversation with a talking turtle. You probably had pinched yourself through the fabric of your baseball uniform a couple of times throughout the conversation to remind yourself that this was your current reality. Still, though, you found yourself incredibly intrigued by the life Leonardo had with his brothers.

Getting up with a small grunt escaping your curled-up lips, you calmly dust off your pants with your fingertips before offering Leonardo a grin of your own, "We should go find them." You announced before extending him a friendly hand where he was crisscrossed on the floor.

Smiling widely, Leo reached out for your hand contently before pulling himself up. Taking a few steps back at the light stumble at his sudden closeness, you scratch the back of your neck before glancing at star-struck turtles, "How exactly do we find them?"

"Easy, muy facil-" Leo's eyes flickered before he managed to snag a tree branch from the top of the creaking dumpster, comically bending down a bit and doodling the start of a rough map.

You peered over his slim shoulders as the turtle sketched out an extremely neat underground network of New York on the muddy concrete floor. Thick lines had been sketched crossing over smaller ones as some blocks indicated subway stations nearby while others displayed local pizza restaurant locations. 

"You've never been up here," You noted lightly  with crossed-over arms as the turtle scanned your puzzled yet amazed expression that likely had little sparkles captured in them, "How do you even know the layout of New York so well?"

Finishing up his sketch, Leo wiped his hands over his padded knees before carelessly tossing the crooked tree branch to the side in satisfaction, "Pizza takeout menus." He proudly admitted through a light rub underneath his nose and a cocky glint in his eyes.

The tip of your fingers lingered over the drawn-out display of New York's network system before hovering over a particular drawing at the very edge of the illustration.

It was a doodle of four distinct figures. One of them was bulkier in comparison to the other three with an exaggerated sharp tooth, the other sported a pair of thick glasses while the third had cute drawn-out paint splotches across his chubby face. "Your brothers, I'm assuming?" You quipped to Leo before tapping at the final drawing: A hefty and unkept rat figure with a fluffy bathrobe swallowing his pudgy figure. 

Lips pursed, you wiggled your pointer finger curiously with a small waggle, "And your?-"

"Well, my dad!" Leonardo's eyes twinkled brightly and matter-of-factly as if this revelation was a rather obvious aspect of his family tree. 

"I see." Your eyebrows stitched together in confusion before curling up your bottom lip. You decided against questioning Leo's parental figures since before this day, you would have busted your ass laughing if someone insinuated you would have met a talking turtle. The idea of him having a rat as a father should not be as far-fetched as a concept.

Placing his finger on the map, Leo motioned at one specific area where the lines crossed and intertwined. "Bro, here it should be perfect!" Leo moved his shoulder after that sentence passed his lips just a bit with an excited thumbs-up shot in your direction. 

Before you could even open your mouth to offer any sort of protest, Leo already had elegantly swung himself onto the surface of the abandoned dumpster and gripped onto one of the metal handles of a rusting ladder that was bolted to the side of the creaking brick building. 

His three fingers maneuver to a lazy surfer sort of gesture as his slightly ripped bandana flickered back and forth at his swaying movements, "Plus, I got someone who can build you a way better bat, no charge since you are my plus one!"

"He's been gone for nearly an hour!" Donnie fumbled with the frames of his thick glasses that were propped on his face before glancing back toward the tablet that illuminated his scowl. "Raph, we have literally no clue where he could be."

The brown dirty water squashed inside the hollow cylinder-like tunnel. Grizzling walls of this tunnel-sewer sprinkled dust due to their age perhaps. These walls were like the inside of a circular tube and were swollen and soft due to wetness. Two parallel platforms were raised in the hollow of the tunnel to serve the dual purpose of forming a cavity, a way to maintain the water flow in the form of beds, and also serving as the footpaths if one had to walk inside this sewer tube.

The place reeked. Light seldom traveled in this tunnel and that too in scraps--now and then when a manhole is opened. The structures like ladders that were kept on the platform, the pipes on the wall, and the steel garters to support the tunnel; all were crowded by gossamer spiderwebs.

Raphael brought his cramped hand to the surface of his scrunched-up forehead, his shimmering yellow tooth peeking out as he spoke to his younger brother. "C'mon Don, you are great with stats!" The snapping turtle warmly smiled towards his sibling, placing a light yet comforting hand on Donnie's bare shell, "We surely covered tons of ground already! Share the facts, little bro."

"Statistically speaking," Donatello stared boredly at the concrete ceiling with sarcasm mingling in his voice as he admired the faint cracks that decorated above the group. Donnie began smiling blankly back toward Raph, his purple mask wrinkling at the sides of his face. "We are screwed." 

Before Raph could protest Donnie's foul mood during their search, Mikey gingerly took the opportunity to tug on his older brother's spare arm for comfort. 

Mikey trudged along the path with his little coloring book & a thick jumbo-sized orange crayon jammed between the clutch of his chubby fingers. "Raphie? It has been a while-" The youngest turtle questioned with the slightest tilt of his head, baby blue eyes widening at the increasing amount of time away from his older brother. "Is Leo really missing?-"

Raph fondly rubbed Mikey's head with a slight ruffle, a hearty chuckle brimming at the ends of his toothy grin. "C'mon? Leo? Y'know our brother, Mikey." Adjusting the sleeves of Michelangelo's bright orange hoodie warmly as his sentence dragged out any sort of lingering worry. "He's just out and about, our job as the Mad Dogs is to check up on him!" 

Mikey, seemingly convinced, nodded before holding his Jupiter Jim coloring book closer to the comfort of his chest. His nimble fingers looped tightly around one of Raph's.

"And when we do find him, we'll give him a big hug." The snapping turtle curtly plucked up his youngest brother before swiftly tossing him onto his shoulder with a slight tug of the lips. "And I'll strangle the blue outta him for thinking that leaving without telling us nuthin' was a brilliant idea."

Donatello's eyes flitted to offer a sideways glance at his oldest brother in curiosity, his fingertips remaining on the faint hue emitting from his tablet. "We should at least tell Splints." 

Raphael paused his hurried pace as Mikey innocently looked up at his brother's sudden stern expression, his usual friendly tone constructing into something more adamant. More serious.

 "No-" He finally retorted in response before scratching the tip of his muzzle in earnest frustration, "The last thing we need to tell dad is that our mutant baby brother is wandering the streets of New York right about now alone." 

Finally reaching a thin metal ladder leading out of the sewers once more, Raph began climbing up the rigid steps as his small claws began sharply curling around the metal bars. 

"Donnie!" Raphael's voice carried across in a faint echo as Mikey's small arms tightly looped around his eldest brother's neck for support, "Which stop is this one?"

Donnie gripped tightly onto his tablet as his glasses began sliding down his snout. He didn't necessarily agree with Raphael's objections to informing Splinter of the situation. Rather, it seemed almost essential for him to be aware of the lack of knowledge of Leo's whereabouts. "Our 45th stop, Raph!" Donatello blinked before gripping the rusting handles that led toward the surface.

"We'll get him home before dinner time." 

You both sat contently on a curb of an abandoned street. Your stiffened fingers warmly cupped your chin in between the palm of your hand as the other dug contently into a half-empty bag of cheese puffs you had bought from a local convenience store with the extra cash you stashed away in your pocket. 

"Leo- You barely left any for me!" You muttered through furrowed eyebrows, plucking one of the cheese curls from the plastic bag with a scowl. 

Leonardo had never tried cheese puffs before this moment so his eager gobbling of the snack was to be expected from him. Ten whole years of his life had gone by and had never even gotten to try such a delicacy before living in the sewers. His smile was comically smothered with orange stains that coated his fingers.

"Can you possibly blame me? It is delicious!" He proclaimed victoriously with a gurgle of delight at the discovered snack before placing two cheese curls at the corner of his outstretched mouth to mimic a walrus. "I can even do tricks with this snack!"

He's only slightly disappointed that you only snort in amusement rather than drop your jaw open, overcome by unmitigated awe, but that sliver of dismay is swiftly knocked out of him once you reach over and lay your palm flat over his wrist.

Leo stares at you quizzically with the two curls hanging oddly from his agape mouth before you manage to snap one of them in half and toss it into your mouth contently.

"Dude! Not cool-" The red slider attempts to reach for another chip with an extended hand gingerly fishing for more. "It just tastes cheddar than anything else!" 

You paused with a few blinks, stifling a loud chuckle with your other free hand that wasn't attempting to keep your cheesy snack safe from Leo's grubby hands.

A cheese pun?

"Leo!" You hum warmly before taking a swing of your grape soda can that crinkles underneath the pressure of your lingering thumb, "That was a bit cheesy, no?"

"Finally!" Leonardo hummed before taking a sip of his can of orange soda while peeking in your approval. "Someone who understands my comical and untapped talent!" 

To his dismay, you don't even bat an eyelash at the turtle's cool, unfazed act. You only tut softly and side-eye him with a gentle reprimand creeping to the front of your tongue.

You had both enjoyed each other's company. Had anyone decided to walk upon the both of you, from a distance it most likely would have appeared as two friends hanging out after the movies? Tossing snacks playfully at one another and taking exciting sips of their fizzy drinks.

The color of the sun was now a light creamy yellow, and it was easy to distinguish it from the light blue color of the sky. There were few clouds, but they were far away, so the sun was taking up all the space above the horizon. As the sunset was starting, the sun was going down slowly changing its color from creamy yellow to shades of glowing orange.

You almost would have forgotten the true reason the both of you had resided for so long at the abandoned street. The rusting pothole wiggled a bit from the concrete surface by your sneakers before being pushed aside to reveal a tentative green head peeking out to examine its surroundings.

"Raph, he's not here- Why on earth would he be so close to Staten Island." An annoyed voice whined out.

Leo's face perked up instantly at the looming complaints. If he was a dog, you could quite literally imagine his ears stiffening upwards dramatically at the familiarity of the voice.

The end of his blue bandana loosened at the seams ever so slightly. "Donna! Is that you?" The turtle stumbled before he quickly rose from the side of the curb with one sole cheese curl propped in the side of his puffed-out right cheek. "Only you, mi hermano, could be the voice of such cynicalness." 

You decided to stand up as well to introduce yourself at the mention of his brothers with an embarrassed cough brushing past your lips before flinching at the light blur of orange that had managed to eagerly tackle Leonardo to the ground.

Having dropped his unfinished coloring book to the side with a thud! the youngest turtle's lanky arms had snaked around his brother's waist with a loving warmth. "Leo!" The little turtle sniffled out in relief, small bubbly tears brimming the corner of the brightest baby blues that were rapidly blinking. "You are okay!"

Carefully placing the tip of his chin onto his brother's shaking head, Leo had softly run his three fingertips across the brightly colored surface of his brother's shaking shell before chuckling. "Mikey!" He whispered with a toothy grin as Michelangelo's fat tears continued to leak over the fabric of Leo's shredded top. 

As they shared a warm embrace, a larger figure emerged. In comparison to the previous three brothers, who were shorter and lankier, this figure was frankly the opposite as you swallowed the gasp you had been quietly holding. He was truly massive in size, his thick scales decorating his body a potent mossy green, lightly glistening under the faint hue of the descending sunshine. A sole yellow fang revealed a row of jagged teeth encasing around it.

Of course, Raphael's size was hardly intimidating to any else except yourself or your sudden squeak at his thundering approach. "Raph! Hey big guy." Leo perked up from his hug with Mikey with a devilishly wide grin as the eldest brother placed a warm hand over Leonardo's lazy shoulder. "Don't get emotional on me now"

Raph wrapped his bulky arms around Leo's waist- A gentle yet rather nervous Leo whispering hurriedly almost squawking at the sudden tightening grip of his older brother's hug. "A little t-tight, no?"

You hear another hiss of air escape from between his gapped teeth, snout gruffly wrinkled at his baring claws that began digging almost threateningly. "Next time, you decide to go prancin' about on your own, I will personally ensure that it is your last time." Raphael's steel grip loosened just as swiftly at his humorously loud chuckle, sharp features softening to something you could only assume was an actual smile. "Other than that, I'm so relieved to see you, little bro."

Finally sinking into a more genuine touch, Raphael's crimson mask crinkled before smothering Leo into his chest with a jagged sigh. "Please don't ever scare me like that again." 

It takes Donatello a moment to find the right steps to bring his legs back into motion, trailing after his brothers like a titanic, unsettling shadow and only halting once he's standing far distance to avoid being hurled into the affectionate embrace.

"This is good!" Donnie finally heaved in shallow gasps before placing his large palms on the surface of his knobby knees, his glasses threatening to slip down his gasping expression. He had seemingly taken the brunt of the travels under the sewers, meticulously peeling off a worn-out sock that had sloppily stuck across his leg with a furrowed frown of disdain. "And you didn't get discovered by any humans-"

It seems at that selective moment, the group had finally acknowledged your presence that had been standing cautiously behind Leonardo. The reunion clouded their vision from the very obvious human kid who was fiddling with their fingers and suddenly very interested in the pattern of their shoelaces.

So even when Raphael takes a step towards you, rising to his full height while towering over you and lifts one enormous claw towards your chest curiously, causing you to lock your shaking knees and refuse to budge.

He's glaring back down at you, his dark crimson eyes somehow piercing right through the red sheen of his mask. "And what were you doing 'round my little bro, kid?" 

You could admit that the situation itself didn't look the best out of context. You and Leo had been peppered with jagged scrapes & bruising across both of your skin. Both of your clothes are slightly tattered and rustled up.

Leonardo takes this opportunity to hurriedly step in between the both of you and the sudden tension, casually sliding in with two hands raised defensively in the air. "They are cool! They are cool!" He proclaims with a coyly posed grin all the while placing a soft hand on your shoulder, "They saved me-"

The snapping turtle's eyes narrow to thin slits at the claim from his younger brother. He scans you diligently for a moment, searching for any ulterior motive behind his brother's statement defending your honor. He finds nothing but genuine curiosity instead. Your tone was rather nervous and your eyes refused to properly meet his.

Blinking slowly, he remains quiet for a long time, but when he does speak, his voice is softer than you've ever heard it. "Introduce us." Raphael finally remarked.

"Ah-" The red slider turtle chuckled heartily with a light wheeze, nervously twiddling his fingertips. "Their name, what a great question-"

You offer him the courtesy of thinking about his answer first, brows knitting together and your nose scrunching up at the thought that you hadn't actually revealed your name to the squirming turtle.

Donatello is the first to break the silence, obvious disapproval fixated on his scowl, "Nardo! Have I taught you nothing about talking to strangers on the internet?" The spiny-shelled turtle muttered with two fingers pinched together before sharply waggling them at his slumped-over twin. "You learn their information while I stalk their internet presence and search for their address! God, I'm surrounded by amateurs-"

"[y/n]." You return, resisting the ingrained compulsion to reach out and shake the brother's hands, instead opting to keep your hands chummily into the pockets of your stained pants.

"Well, [y/n]," Donnie began repeating your name, pushing his glasses up his scrunched-up snout in almost annoyance that the conversation was even being held before blankly clapping his hands together. "We are quite frankly gonna have to kill you for discovering us. It's just protocol, so really, nothing personal. No hard feelings?"

Stiffly, the eldest turtle peels his lips back and pushes a low, guttural challenge from his throat, twisting his neck around to glower at the younger turtle. "What Donnie is tryna say-" The snapping turtle corrected, his eyes softening ever so slightly into something more genuine. "We can't have you talkin' about this to anyone, alright? We got a family to look out for, if humans started stickin' their noses out for us-" His voice quivers before finding strength again as little Michelangelo clings lightly to his leg. "-It would be unsafe for all of us."

A cool summer breeze blows lightly through your hair and whistles past the grouped turtles, causing goosebumps to arise on your crossed arms. With your eyes closed and facing toward the final glimpses of the sun, you welcome the little warmth you can gather and breathe in the salty air.

"Lips sealed-" You hummed out finally in agreement as your soft lips stretched out smoothly before mimicking a pretend key with your nimble fingers, a lingering chuckle rushing past your smile. "No one would believe me anyways."

Your delicate fingers touch Leo's curled ones and you step around the blue-tinged turtle, peeking timidly at Raph as you venture a little closer to his face.

"Donnie, I promised [y/n] you would whip them up something for them?" Leonardo pressed his pointer fingers together sheepishly before his palms tentatively skimmed over the back of his neck with a small laugh. "They totally lost their baseball bat 'cuz of me. I owe em-"

Truthfully? You had forgotten all about your missing bat. You probably wouldn't even have mentioned the fact that Leo offered a replacement earlier even if you had a recollection of him encouraging you to accept a new one.

Rolling up his sleeves figuratively, Donatello seemed to genuinely light up at the challenge as his glasses glinted with a cartoonish shine. His seemingly stoic face perked up rather quickly before fishing into his pockets with a hurried and rather maniacal giggle.

"You truly do underestimate my skills, Leon-" The masked figure remarked coyly with the waggle of a mini screwdriver he had stashed away with other random metal scraps and trinkets. 

You toss him a quizzical glance as Donnie's back remains turned away for a moment of tinkering at the flickering light that started to emit from his hand, though just as quickly your eyes meet his, he abruptly halts in satisfaction. He tilts his head down before tossing you a small rectangular shape box about the size of your palm.

Holding it up to your squinted eye, you rotate the small box carefully to examine it further. You truthfully had no idea what you were looking at. It was a compact box with a thick button at the very edge that the surface of your thumb curiously teetered around. "Thanks?-" You muttered, your teeth carefully gnawing at your bottom lip.

The box easily sprung in size at that very moment, almost defiantly to make up for your mellow dramatic reaction. Gears faintly churned inside the tiny structure before reconstructing themselves into the size of a narrow bat. A little gasp escaped your pursed lips as it snuggled into your fingertips, fitting perfectly in the grip of your hands.

Afterward, everyone began giving their goodbyes before submerging into the warmth of the sewers. Michelangelo had given you a comforting embrace, the very top of his head reaching barely your hips and leaving you with his prized orange crayon in your possession. Raphael offered an embarrassed smile, shaking your hand contently with the slightest scratch at the back of his neck. Donatello kept his distance from you during his goodbye with a light nod of acknowledgment, though the slick metal arm from his shell carefully gave you the smallest head pat, ruffling up your hair at their departure. 

You were left with Leonardo, his dark eyes shifting over to yours carefully, revealing the soft swirls of light brown amidst them. His expression was no longer pulled into a snarky grin, but rather a smaller and oddly more sincere smile.

"Thank you-"  Leo softly remarked, his head sinking warmly into the crook of your shoulder, his blue bandana slipping once more down the length of his forehead. He didn't specify what exactly he was thanking you for. Had it been for finding him in the alleyway? Traveling across New York and reuniting him with his family? The cheese curls he had scrummaged for himself? Strangely enough, you didn't need an answer to any of those questions. His warm arms encasing you into a light embrace was answer enough.

Pulling away, Leonardo's eyes ever so slightly widened at your fingertips softly brushing against his cheek. You had pulled down the fabric he had tied lazily around his forehead. Gently pressing enough force with your thumbs, you tore two symmetrical holes with a content hum lingering over your curled back lips. 

Tying the fabric once again as you bit down on your tongue, you brought the mask over his eyes tightly. His eyes never left yours before you gingerly patted the cloth down with a satisfied hum tickling the back of your throat at your work.

"There." You murmured contently to him, "You look like a hero."

His face felt a bit warmer. Perhaps it had been the earlier summer weather that led to such heat across his face or perhaps it had been the expression of pure admiration etched across your softened features for him, little was certain. Regardless, his half-lidded eyes flickered with a delicate shine at your tentative praise. He had never quite met someone like you, had he?

Taking a moment, Leonardo allowed his legs to take off at a hurried pace. He stumbled a few times through his dash before allowing his body to dive into the opened pothole, his charming smile still bright. 

"See ya on the flip side, [y/n]!"

The streetlamps that weren't burned out projected little circles of white light onto an empty, cracked sidewalk. The traffic light swung in the breeze, telling all the nonexistent drivers to stop.

The wet, desolate streets of the city rested in silence as the starry black sky wept over it. The water in the portholes shimmered by the glow of the bright, yellow street lamps at every corner.

It had been raining for hours now, the steady patter of water against your coat long since faded to a dull rush in the back of your mind. 

You were clutching the handle of a tiny plastic bag, pulling your coat closer around your shaking frame. Roaming around the streets of New York City in the middle of the night was the last thing you were planning on tonight, but after your roommate had caught a fever, the idea of staying inside was tossed out the window. Before she could even protest through her weak cough, you had already tugged on your sneakers & hooked your keys through your fingertips with a soft jingle. 

Glancing down into your wrinkled bag as you strutted, you hadn't bought much on your trip to the local pharmacy. Some Tylenol clanged happily in the plastic, a few different Gatorade flavors & a couple of cans of chicken soup that had been discounted at the clearance section. 

You tramped your way along the rutted, muddy trail in irritated silence. It was supposed to be a full moon tonight. Not that you could tell; the clouds above you grouped grayly. You had your cracked cell phone to emit some light in your bag-any good man does-but God knows it wouldn't light in this weather.

A piercing gust of wind shook the trees above your head, showering your already miserable frame with a fresh deluge. You wiped the water from your eyes with a wet sleeve and tucked a lock of hair back under the protection of your hood. What you wouldn't give for an umbrella.

You continued your walk home with your hands stuffed into your pocket for an added bit of warmth, only a few more blocks till you were home at your dingy apartment and could badger your roommate for not bundling up properly. 

You pulled the black hood over your saturated form as you sauntered in the soft rain, small pellets of water spitting on your hands as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles decorating the asphalt.

Though, in one of the pools of rainwater on the street, an oddly familiar flash of blue lingered in the reflection of the puddle that earned your attention. You managed to lift your head just a bit, craning stiff your neck to the flickering streetlight instead. 

Squinting- The flicker of blue seemingly disappeared into the shadows. 

"Crap," You mumbled to yourself before your half-lidded eyes adjusted back as your phone slipped from your quivering grasp. The cellular device skittered a few steps in front of you across the smooth pavement, faint curses escaping your warm breaths loosely. "Just my luck, huh?" Placing your shopping bag carefully on the sidewalk before closely inspecting the possible damage to your phone, the surface of your thumb inspecting for new cracks on the busted-up screen protector. 

Looking relatively unharmed under your inspection, you gently wiped off some of the raindrops that had smeared across your phone screen during the tumble with a satisfied hum and dropped the phone into the pockets of your sweatpants for safekeeping.

"Are you done with these then?"

Startled, your head turned around at the sudden voice that lingered behind your crouched figure. Two young men in thin, dark jackets were inspecting your abandoned bag near your muddy feet. Their black shoes were shimmering from the trickles of the rain. One of the guys, in particular, was handling the crinkled receipt paper that you had mindlessly tossed into the bag after purchasing any items of higher value. His sausage-like fingers skim down the items.

Your eyebrow quipped upwards at the blunt question, carefully peeling back some of the hair strands that clung to your warm forehead before staring rather dumbly at them. "What are you even talking about?" 

"These," One of the men answered gruffly as his large nose wrinkled up at your confusion, still rooting around the food you had just recently purchased from the store with his gloved fingers. "Your bag, kid." A gold ring gleamed softly under the pitter-patter of the rain.

Honestly, if these men thought you had any cash on you at the moment and targeted you for that reason, you were flattered. Perhaps even start chuckling at how amusing the situation was. You were lucky to have enough money for the weekly bus fare to your part-time job on the other side of town every morning, much less to hand these guys over any currency.  

Stumbling upwards to your untied shoelaces, your narrowed eyes glanced carefully around your surroundings at the street corner you were on. Fat blobs hit the display windows of many empty stores hard before sticking for a moment, then oozing down toward oblivion. Businesses were seemingly and hurriedly packed up for the night, the neon sign that spelled 'open' at the local Chinese buffet burnt out to only a soft flicker in the hue of the rain.

 "No." 

"You left them," Suddenly the other man said, his soft jaw-dropping before releasing a hollow laugh that's about as far from friendly as one could get. It's bitter and mocking.

Digging your curled-up fingertips into your pockets casually, your fingers began twisting the fuzzy fabric of your pants. You kept your cool, your usually softer eyes firmly holding both of their gazes with a stiffened expression. "I put them down for a second." You clarified quickly and matter-of-factly, remembering to bite down on your tongue to stop any sharp retort from escaping your curled-up lips.

"Same thing, if ya ask me," The first man responded with a blank chuckle, peeling his lips back to reveal rows of sharp, jagged teeth. He pulled one of the dented cans of soup out of the bag he was holding that had a slapped clearance sticker on it, lazily throwing it back and forth between his tight grip. "You don't mind if I take one of these, do you?"

"Fine," You rasped out in a small spat. A weary sort of resignation crept into your stomach at the sight. You wanted nothing more than to snatch your bag away from them, your white knuckle grip tightening at your phone that lingered warmly in your pocket but you stayed frozen in place with no sudden movement. You didn't want a fight.

"What kind of bitch buys this cheap shit anyways?" The second man chimed in under the dim light with a wrinkled-up expression, casually whipping out a fat cigarette from his pocket and rolling it between his fingertips. He was a bit larger than the first man with a round stomach that chunkily jutted over his leather belt, standing a good head taller than you even in his slouched-over position.

As the minutes pass in silence though, you continue to hold your ground, albeit with trembling hands that sift through your pockets slowly. "Look, I don't want any trouble," You piped up, trying to attract the attention of anyone who may be passing by. You purse your lips before chewing a welt into your lower lip, stealing a glance towards the deserted street.

Though your request seems to fall with little reception. The shorter of the pair slips forward with a gapped smile, his greasily slicked back hair sparsely covering the bald spots that revealed from his head. "No? Good," He hissed out contently in an attempt to seem friendly, extending his waggling fingers. "You won't mind giving us your wallet then."

"What?"

"Your wallet." The pudgy thief remarked with a low spat, picking at his crooked teeth with the edge of his pinky boredly. "Hand it over. You gotta have some sorta cash on ya."

"I don't have any money," You remarked plainly, your voice creeping up higher than expected before coughing. "Just take the bag." You tiredly dug for your wallet in your pockets, fishing for it and tossing them your wallet anyway to their satisfaction, knowing full well the only things they'd find in it would be a few mostly used-up gift cards and the wrinkled-up change for the food you had bought earlier.

Rustling through your wallet once more, both of their faces melted into pure disgust. Their thumbs hovered shakily over the few crinkled dollar bills that they had managed to tug out from the depths of your wallet. Their rough faces begin to dip into a heated scowl with a rough breath, licking the frantic sweat off their upper lip. 

"Grab 'em'."

As soon as the order was made, your eyes widened before you felt two sturdy hands wrap firmly around your wrist in a sharp snatch. Long nails harshly dig into your supple skin as you begin thrashing your arms to loosen his tightening grip.

Blanching, you immediately try to back up, but your head knocks painfully at the wall behind you and you realize, with a sinking sensation in your gut, that you're well and truly trapped as a behemoth of two men closes in on you, their motions far more ungainly.

Wincing, with your other free hand, you managed to swipe the final object deep into the crevices of your pocket. A black little box with a small button gleaming proudly at being pulled out for this moment. Granted, the paint had chipped away over the years and a few scratches had been added.

The metal baseball bat rose to life, the little gears gleefully turning at a rapid speed to be used once more before reconstructing contently into your shaky palm.

Before anything could happen though, around you the room had begun to pulse, the blue-ish illumination flickered in front of you burning brightly as you felt a faint pressure in your perked ears, the walls and floor cement vibrating intensively.

Both the men had scrambled to the ground at the sight, their gruff voices beginning to croak at the lingering silhouette that had slowly stepped out. "Get the fuck away from me, freak!" 

Magic roared from the sudden appearance of two narrow blades and rebounded with a savage eruption that smashed the two men down.

Before you, you saw the faint outline of a figure, coyly hanging in the dark with only the white glint of their eyes sharpening. Plunged back into darkness, the sound of a sword's sharpened tip began sliding sweetly across the cement floors sending chills down your spine. 

Even in the dark, you could tell that the figure moved with perfect control. Their movements almost toying with the two men boyishly in boredom, doing quick backflips over their slumped shoulders as their playfully chipper laughter began mingling the air.

"C'mon, boys, it can't be that easy, now?"

You urgently fumbled to get a better look at the silhouette. When you looked back up, the outline was gone, and cold footsteps echoed around the empty street. 

As you inhaled deeply, you heard a loud crash of thunder, feeling a small, cool raindrop hit your bruised cheek, and flow down your quivering face to your neck. It was followed by one more raindrop, and then yet another. A gasp passed through your lips, as they curved into a tremulous smile. 

That voice sounded so- familiar. Deeper, but familiar.

The drops of rain hung on your lashes and then ran down your cheeks, kissing your pursed lips. Behind you, a large figure in a blue bandana looms protectively over you. His almond eyes scanned you carefully as his grip tightened on the hold of his swords that were still emitting a soft blue light.

His eyes widen the smallest fraction from behind the mask in a glint of recognition. Turning your head just a bit, your eyes wander over his bright green scales and the blue bandana that harshly flowed behind his hesitant step. Leonardo's breaths had become jagged at the soft droplets that beaded through the tuffs of your hair.

"Shit, Donnie-" A curse fumbled past your lips carelessly. The soft glare of your cellphone glosses over your scrunched-up features as your plastic toothbrush dryly hangs from your left cheek.

You propped yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter, your fuzzy-socked feet barely grazing the marble tiles as the tip of your thumb fumbled with the keypad buttons of your phone. You should be in the middle of snoring away in your bed to wake up early morning to catch the first bus to commute to school, tugging bitterly at the end of your oversized purple hoodie that you were sporting.

Instead, you were impatiently tapping away for your little reckless shit of a boyfriend to text you back as soon as he finished his mission. 

Sure, Donnie was a hell of a fighter. An even better inventor. You could attest to his skills firsthand as the first few meetings between you and Donatello were of him saving your ass from hitting the patchy New York City pavement or shielding you from the rumble along with other civilians. Still, Donatello would be a fool to assume you would go to bed without getting at least a word from him that he was alright.

And your Donnie was no fool.

You absentmindedly wandered your way to the living room with your cell phone glued to your hand, your feet sinking happily into the warmth of your wool rug. There was a medium-sized leather couch with a dark wooden end table containing your precious family photos scattered across the surface.

Some were pictures of you and your parents when you were younger, and others were notably more recent. One framed picture was a selfie of you & the turtles sneaking into the movie theater to watch some re-runs of Lou Jitsu's martial arts movies. Buttery popcorn bits were spilling all over you as the image caught you mid-laugh in the theater seat. The other captured you & April O'Neil having ice cream together at a local fare, vanilla sweetness accidentally smeared over your scrunched-up noses.

Your eyes fondly flickered to the colorfully mishappen-scented candles that Mikey had made for your home as your housewarming gift when they first visited your home.

Not exactly your home, but rather your parent's home- You noted to yourself before sinking into the comfort of the armchair. Your parents often were away on trips for work-related endeavors overseas for long durations of time. It never really bothered you too much the idea of being left at home most of the time, you welcomed it more often than not to focus on your studies with little to no distractions.

 It never struck you as a less-than-ideal situation till you briefly mentioned it to Donnie during one of his late rooftop visits before you guys officially started dating. You could almost pinpoint the exact moment when his thickly drawn eyebrows furrowed together when you spoke, his glossy bottom lip slightly upturned as he processed your words before turning to stare at the sky once more.

He never said anything about it after that night, which you assumed was the end of the conversation until the next morning when you heard the faintest tap on your window, the coffee mug you had been holding sending warmth from your fingertips. Donatello's awkward smile as he fumbled inside your bedroom with Leonardo, Raph & Mikey following closely behind, cradling a bunch of eccentric 80's posters, CDs, and random trinkets they had collected from all across New York for you. 

"We have come to decorate your humble abode with some of our most prized possessions for you, [y/n]!" The spiny soft-shelled turtle had sputtered out after the berating from his siblings, his face growing notably hotter as his brothers blew amusing sloppy kissing noises at his hint of sudden shyness in your presence. 

You approached the ledge of your window; the palm of your hand warmly cupped your cheek at the hidden smile that toyed with the ends of your pursed lips as your elbow rested lazily on the ruddy brick ledge at the recollection of the sweet memory.

Your eyes raked over the city's twinkling lights of the traffic meters and busted-up car lights. There were cars stamped brim to brim with sports team bumper stickers parked all along the streets and traffic jams on every bustling corner of New York City. The newspaper vendors sell the evening newspapers in a sugary sweet manner. They shout out the sensational news but keep the paper folded.

Your fingers hugged curtly around the two brown-and-green ceramic mugs that had been left on the ledge edge of your windowsill, breathing in the faint scent of tea that lingered on the rims of the cup.

Donnie had a habit of leaving different assortments of tea for you every afternoon by your window when you would get busier for school, a hot drink greeting you when you arrived each time you moved aside the curtains. Your soft lips pressed on the edge of the mug, taking a small sip.

 It was still warm.

Your cell phone faintly buzzed beside you before you, fumbling for the source you flipped the screen over.

'Heading back.'

His text was short yet simple. Knowing your boyfriend, he would be in the middle of racing over the rickety rooftops and buildings of New York but would still pull out his phone to shoot you a quick text in the middle of it.

Turning your back towards the window, your thumbs lightly skimmed over your phone screen to type back. The only thing that was now giving off light in the room was the bright shine of your phone, flickering faintly from the notifications that appeared.

‘I can't sleep,’

‘Who cares?’

‘Don't you care about me now?’

‘I always don't care.’

Your flushed cheek lightly nuzzled into the warm sleeve of the hoodie you had on. The smooth fabric lingered across the side of your face, and the faint scent of freshly baked pizza mingled intertwined with the musk of laundry detergent as you softly sighed.

Another text bubble appears and types for a long time then disappears.  

After a pause, a few more buzzes emerged from your phone, ‘Open up, stupid.’ The text finally read, the irritation palpable from the one line as the faint tapping noises on the glass pane grew increasingly louder. ‘It's cold out here.’

You blink at the text, looking up from your phone. 

Opening up the window latch for him, Donnie wiggled his way inside as complaints sputtered from his mouth, stumbling in an attempt to regain his balance. "One more minute out there and I would have frozen my shell out there, [y/n]. Y'know hyperthermia can happen around above 40°F?"  Donnie's dark eyebrows knit together, harboring a soft annoyance there, although it didn’t spread to the rest of his face. He was smiling satisfyingly and his dark brown eyes gleamed. 

There were faint cuts across his emerald cheeks, one, in particular, ran down his bottom lip. Donnie seemed to catch your sudden observing before raising both of his hands defensively to reassure you with the waggle of his eyebrows, "Ah! Tis but a scratch, my dearest.” The turtle mused, “Don't you worry your pretty little head-"

Breath held without thinking, the suspended air caught at the top of your throat like a minute grasped instead of recklessly spent. Before he can say anything else, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

You nearly missed, his lips a tad too far left and the tip of your nose bumped against his cheek. The crinkling of your smile fainted as you tilted your head so that your lips could meet firmly and happily at last, his neck burning up at your sudden peck of affection.  As he pulled back sheepishly, he kissed the bridge of your nose with a light chuckle and his eyes opened to see yours shining bright.

He halts when your fingertips bump the stretched fabric of his purple mask, laying his warm finger on the tip of your bottom lip. His head tilts the slightest bit, just enough for his spilled-ink irises to latch onto yours. "You doing okay?" Donatello whispered through half lidded gaze before your eyes flickered down to the jut of his chin. 

Lips ever-so-slightly parted, you nodded then a soft, warm exhale ending in an almost imperceptible hum into his chest.

You scratched a few answers onto your blank worksheet that was scattered across your desk before you lightly brought the pencil to the end of your lips, eyebrows slightly pursed at the question in front of you. 

Exam season was approaching and you had cramped yourself in your room for the night to start turning in an ungodly amount of assignments. You had a couple of final projects due in a few days. So obviously, you had just started working on it.

Your usually tidy room curdled into nothing but the mess of greeting me–clothes, textbooks, and muddy shoes lay across the floor in knotted clumps. 

Of course, you couldn't chalk it up all to your procrastination. You had been picking up extra shifts at the local cafe you worked at down the street to cover your school tuition. Plus, gathering enough cash for your part of the rent for the apartment you shared with roommates took your time up from focusing on shit.

 The faint light of your laptop propped on your legs illuminated the tip of your scrunched-up nose, the cheap crushed-up coffee cans piling up in the tiny metal trash can by your feet. Bringing your stiffened arms above your head, you stretched as your cramped fingertips wiggled almost giddily in the air- A break was in order.

Picking up the half-eaten sandwich you had brought the other night from your shift, absentmindedly you brought the buttered bread to your mouth. The warm flakes began coating your bottom lip before eagerly scarfing it down as you began chewing, your sleepy eyes drifted hazily across the blaring screen for a possible movie to watch for the rest of the day.

Though, your thoughts often caused you to wander as your chewing slowed, eyes staring at the burning question you had tiredly thrown towards the corner of your desk. You could practically hear the nagging voice of your friend badgering you at the sight of another "missing" grade. 

If a friend was even appropriate to call him, that is.

"Fuck, okay, okay-" You mumbled under your breath into the hoodie you had randomly thrown on for the day, scootching your busted-up laptop closer into the warmth of your lap. Your fingertip grazed over the smooth mousepad, pulling up your recent messages and allowing your cursor to wander curiously over the icon.

'Hey Don, you busy?' You typed out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth for a moment before hesitantly questioning whether or not to hit the 'send' icon.

After a few moments, his icon perked up on your laptop screen.

Bootyyyshaker9000- You watched as the little gray dots bounced on the screen before a message finally appeared.

'No.'

You still found yourself slightly snorting at the name Donnie had selected for himself. Chuckling softly, you began wiping the corner of your smile with the edge of your hoodie sleeve as your fingertips glided over your keyboard for the beginning of a response. 

He seemed almost eager to answer your questions when you met on a random tutoring forum, sending pictures of explanations and step-by-step solutions. Admittedly, though you would never say it to him, you found Donnie rather adorable. Apparently, after searching him up online, Bootyyyshaker9000 was a pretty well-known tutor on the internet and a pretty fucking good one at that.

'C'mon, Donnie, help me with this fucking problem,’ You messaged back in reply, taking a quick swing of your half-empty coffee before adding a pleading, 'please?'

'The addition of a please does little to phase me, I'll have you know, [y/n].' Donnie's dry text bubble emerged while you found yourself scoffing at it. The bolded letters appeared in your inbox as you felt the edges of your sheepish smile at his pause, 'Hold on, gimme a sec, you lil shit, capish?'

You managed to convince Donnie to tutor you after the few exchanges you guys had shared online after waggling some money at the man. Strangely enough, you guys slowly became friends of sorts. Whether he was geeking out over some of his favorite shows or you were spewing complaints over waitressing to him after your long shifts, it didn't matter. Having someone excitedly listen to your deranged mumbles at the end of the day was oddly comforting. 

You would like to think he felt the same way in that sense. You never saw what he looked like after the numerous phone calls you shared, much to your speculation of what he was possibly hiding.

'You need any more help from Mr. Science himself?' His text bubble appeared on your laptop screen as you shuffled to read his reply, squinting at the faint glare of the messages. Donnie had taken a picture of his notebook somewhat awkwardly. He had scribbled at the corner of the page with eraser marks etching his messy penmanship. 

Admiring Donatello's work, you almost didn't catch the quick text he had sent, 'Or might I suggest we watch some movies for the night? Some Jupiter Jim reruns are perfect for a case of procrastination-'

For some reason, a faint warmth flushed your cheeks at the suggestion before shaking it off just as quickly at the thought. 'Whole bunch of work.' You coyly wrote back as you crushed up the caffeinated drink in your hand, eyebrow slightly quirked, 'You know, exam season is gonna hand my ass over to me, Don.'

You could practically hear the cockiness drip from Donnie's snarky tone, 'I might as well take it for you, huh? I bet I could take the exam and ace it from the material you showed me.'

The end of your smile slightly tugged, an itch of confidence taking over as you couldn't help but tease Donnie back, 'Why don't we meet up then if you wanna bet on it?' You suggested. You crane over and reach up toward the end of your desk, curiously as you pat around for the sticky notes from earlier from your studying, pulling them down and cleanly peeling a couple of pages off. 'We can finally meet up, help me out with some of the material and I'll treat you to some of the best pizza slices downtown. C'mon Don, we can even pick up a DVD?'

Though you have never directly asked Donatello to meet in person, he never stayed on the topic whenever you implied it in passing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to assume that he wasn't too fond of the idea personally.

With the two sticky notes, you scribbled down a few doodles and a mental note of a local rental DVD place near your apartment complex, realizing your excuse for hanging out with Donatello was wearing thin, his pause slightly obvious.

'You better be paying serious cash for my services, [y/n].' He finally relented after a few brief moments, his message short in a mocking tone. 'It ain't cheap to hire me for an in-person session, y'know.'  

You crumple up the old sandwich wrapper before tossing it into the waste bin by your desk, the previous crumpled-up study notes and post-it notes sticking from the sides of it. 'See? How hard was that? Thanks, Don Don!' You chuckled tentatively through your final text, your hum soft as you added genuinely to him, 'You are the literal best, you know that?' 

You grin at his theatrics, returning to a half-hearted review of the worksheet you had previously decided to discard for the day and nodding at his last message before closing your cluttered laptop. 

'Ew. Gross, [y/n], fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of my inbox.'

You fiddled with some of the crumpled-up bills in the space of your coat pocket that you planned to use to treat Donnie to a rented DVD, gently smoothing up the faint wrinkles with the touch of your thumb ever so slightly.

You had slipped on a worn-out coat over your wool sweater you had thrown on for the occasion, the beanie you had nuzzled on your head covering the very tips of your burning ears.

Undoubtedly, you were a bit nervous at the idea of meeting Donnie. True, he had seen you a couple of times through videos you had sent him whenever you went out with friends or found a low-key restaurant hidden away in the city. You both agreed to meet at the local park a few blocks from your place. Your narrowed eyes drifted to the edge of the cloud in the sky where there was a brilliant white patch, like a turning page catching the sun. The rest was dove grey with a subtle hint of purple, just enough to announce the coming sunset, a rare sight to see in the bustling city of New York. 

You tried to look presentable regardless, eagerly switching between different sweaters that had been hung up in your closet untouched for what seemed ages now.

The freshly packed snow crunched beneath your slippers as you let your mellow breath mingle in the air, your apartment keys cool against the bareness of your knuckles. The street lights faintly began glowing a hue over your darkened shadow, the warm pizza slices carefully placed in a paper bag you had just picked up.

Finally settling by a park bench, you leaned against the pole of the streetlight.

Some children were running their last lap around the snowy playground set, tripping before they raced up the slide as their parents tried to convince them to start settling down and head home for the evening. Others took huge bites of their sweet candy apples from the local food trucks that began closing for the night, tossing the remains in a trash bin that lingered with crushed candy wrappers and smothered-out cigarettes. 

"Where are you, Don?" You muttered to yourself while snuggling closer into the warmth of the fuzz of your coat, dragging a lone finger down the screen of your slightly cracked phone before sending him another message in frustration. "Better not have left my ass stranded-"

You bumped into a stiff figure, brushing shoulders briefly as you jolted back a moment. You almost dropped the firmly rolled-up paper baggie you had been tightly clutching into the snow. 

The figure was tall and slightly lanky with an oversized hoodie thrown on and had managed to snag your Bro's Pizza bag from the fate of smacking the pavement. A hood was thrown over his head and a small black mask covered the bottom half of his face. You could make out a thick dark eyebrow slightly raised in confusion and you could have sworn that you heard the faintest ping go off.

"Donnie?" You whispered out, taking one step forward with hesitation in your movement, your thick block of a phone gripped tightly in your hand as your squinted eyes began to meet his, locking for the first time. You were certain that he was your Donatello.

He lowered his mask cautiously just an inch with one curled-up finger, and you began noticing the mossy green tinge to his smooth skin. Or the lack of other two other fingers. His dark almond eyes were framed by a long mauve fabric as he seemingly observed your face, taking imaginary data of your eyes slightly widening or lip ever so slightly pouted.

"Surprised?" Donatello stuffed one of his hands into the pockets of his purple hoodie, his pearly white teeth shining in a somewhat comforting attempt to soften the sudden reveal.

Perhaps you could have replied a bit quicker, but the words remained dryly lodged in the depths of your throat. You had never tried to imagine what Donnie looked like truthfully previously, despite curiosity wanting to do otherwise. You were taken aback, admittedly. Everyone who lived within the proximity of New York knew of the mysterious four guardians that sulked in the shadows of the city. 

Blurry photographs of them had been snapped of turtles racing across rooftops all across the city. Even you, who had just moved to New York a couple of months beforehand had heard tales of the infamous masked heroes.

Snowflakes began fluttering around the both of you. Some of the white flakes had been caught in the soft tuffs of your hair that stuck out from the shelter of your hat, reaching up your fingertips to swipe them away.

"Woah." You finally nodded the only words that seemed to encompass everything you wanted to say in that one moment.

"I kept debating whether to come here or not-" Donnie finally shrugged, loosely fidgeting with the pocket of his hoodie and knowing him long enough, you suspected him twiddling with the keypad of his phone for comfort. "Like generally speaking, could I flat out say, 'yeah [y/n] I'm a giant ass turtle that lives in the sewers and happens to give you tutoring sessions every Sunday afternoon, no biggie.' Cause that always works out." 

His last sentence was mused with sarcasm, scratching the back of his neck before taking an extra glance at the crumpled-out bag that he had managed to snag from you. The grease stains coated the bottom of the paper bag, "Do my senses deceive me? Lou-Mike-Tony-Toney's pizza?" He exclaimed in a fake gasp.

Donatello leaned on the top of the wooden park bench in his usual fashion, diagonally to you. Donnie's broad shoulders had relaxed, one hand twirling one of the rolled-up napkins you had tucked away in a myriad of tricks across his nimble fingers. 

"I remember what you like, Don." You finally retorted back and decided to sit next to the turtle on top of the bench, plucking the bag from his hands with a slight smile. "First one in line for your ass to grab the slice straight outta the oven."

You reached for the flimsy napkin from his clutch, reaching for a thick slice of pepperoni pizza in your hand and carefully folding it. The cheesy goodness hung at the very edge as each pepperoni slice had a little pool of grease within each one. 

"This is all just surprising, Donnie." You clarified with a slight wave of your hand, taking another hot bite of pizza before swallowing it just as quickly to avoid it burning the roof of your mouth. "I mean, the guy I've been getting tutored in biology just so happens to be one of the biggest superheroes in New York all this time?"

 Taking a bite of the hot slice of baked goodness, Donnie also fished out his slice out of the bag, chewing tentatively. There’s no telling if it’s because he’s choosing his words carefully, or still scoping your reaction. Probably both.

"You think I should have told you sooner, perhaps? I mean, I am pretty amazing and one of the most ingenious minds of this generation logically speaking, but still." His tone feigned a bit of fun before the turtle turned to look at you, a faint gleam in his eyes- "I mean, would you have come to still hang out with me if you had known I looked like this?"

Wiping the back of your hands on the ends of your crumpled napkin, a smile toyed on the ends of your lips, "Nah." You lightly chewed on the inside of your cheek while a frown playfully jested across your expression, "Would have probably gone for Mr. Draxum's online cafeteria lasagna lessons instead, seemed like loads of fun." 

Closing your eyes a bit, you took a breath. "Why would you even care, Don?" You hummed out, leaning your head back before glancing at him under your lashes, "You are amazing & crazy smart, you create literal inventions outta nothing, screw what anyone else thinks."

Donnie tilted his head to the side, his tone matter-of-factly, "Perhaps because you mean a lot to me? You are not just anyone, of course I care what you think-" his shoulder brushed against yours, "And you happen to be one of the most strong-willed people I know."

Donnie meticulously peeled off one of the pepperoni slices off his pizza, popping one in his mouth like a peppermint, "And it doesn't help that you are cute to look at y'know."

You looked at Donnie through the corner of your eye, his expression remaining the same. Like to him what he had said was more of a statistic rather than a compliment. Still, taking it as one, you were smiling contently to yourself.

"Cuter than Atomic lass?"

"Ah there, now don't push it." He replied after chewing some of the pizza, Donatello brought a dramatic hand to his forehead, eyebrows scrunched up together in feigned shock that had you snorting behind your cupped hands. "And I'll have you know that Mikey works real hard with Drax to put up top-quality video lessons every Monday! I take offense as I edit them to the pristine shape."

Your nose scrunches up, playful, but you pretend to frown at him while reaching for the last bit of buttery crust of your pizza slice. You’re about to ask him something else when he suddenly pipes up, lanky hands digging through his pockets. “Oh! That’s right before I get distracted-”

Donnie brings out another paper bag of his own, proudly tossing it onto your lap, "Oh ho ho, I have brought a contender for you to try for the best pizza in New York as well!"

Run Of The Mill Pizza was printed in a bolded font on a white paper bag, a skeleton's smile scribbled on his expression, Donnie began his excited ramble, "It is one of the best pizzas in undercity! Delicious! Cheesy goodness! It's- oh fuck it's pineapple." Donnie stopped curtly, peering into the bag himself with a scowl etched across his face.

Tossing the bag back towards you, Donnie relaxed his hands behind his neck before his eyes gleamed knowingly to you. "Don't think that I forgot either, [y/n]. Us turtles have a fantastic memory and I seem to recall a rented Jupiter Jim movie DVD is to be in my possession."

Lifting the wad of crumpled-up fives and ten dollar notes between your two fingers close to his eyes, you smiled smugly. "I have not forgotten, Dona, don't you fret now."

You could have sworn his emerald face flushed a dark shade of pink across his face at your sudden closeness. Just as quickly, his face turned away.

A bit of giggle escaped your lips. The park began thinning out now, only a few people scattered across the grass chatting amongst themselves under the hue of the moon. Dusk had come sooner than expected, the last of the sun's rays cosseted behind a soft grey cloud. The street takes on the look of an old photograph, every familiar thing a shade of grey. Slowly the view fades to blackness and the night begins. Aside from the sound of laughter of couples in the back, the park was quiet. The evening passes in amiable silence as you both admire the city, seemingly content to hear only the faint whistle of the wind and each other's steady breathing.

Softly, your fingertip drifts across the smooth wooden bench before ever so slightly brushing against Donnie's hand. At first, his long finger stiffens at the sudden touch, recoiling back a bit. Taking it as a sign of possible discomfort at the sudden affection, you began moving your hand back before his finger reached out and wrapped firmly around your pinky. 

You didn't turn to look at him. Your shoulders simply brush in the comfort. The bench was the kind of brown that spoke of warmth, the kind that is soft, placid, and welcoming as the night fell the blue haze of day lifted to reveal the faint glow of the stars. 

You both had walked under the street lights together as you both arrived together by the rigid concrete front steps of your apartment complex.

Donnie had insisted on walking you home despite your place being only a few minutes away from the park on foot. He had exclaimed in exasperation that it was his duty as your tutor to make sure you arrived safely home after such a “rigorous” study session. You both picked up the DVD together from a local shop, the flimsy plastic bag looped around the turtle's sleeve.

Finally, you climbed up the first few cracked steps to your small home. Donnie took a long glance at you, taking in how bundled up you were in thick cozy layers of your sweater and long coat. 

You both hadn't let go of each other's pinkies after the park.

"Thanks for walking me home, Donnie." You whispered softly in gratitude, his green skin warm mossy shade under the flicker of the dingy streetlight. Your bulky coat had been tightly buttoned up towards the end of the night as your breaths rose with a jocund vibe to greet the wintry cloud, to become a tiny part of warming up the cold.

Your fingertips lightly slipped away from his, his thumb warmly running over your pinky before allowing it to slip away from his familiar grasp.

Your eyes flickered curiously over Donatello once more, admiring how pretty the turtle looked under the milky hue of the moonlight. His dark black eyes revealing faint mingles of chocolate brown.

Donnie's dark eyes softened at the lightness of your voice, remaining still as you gently cupped the side of his face before pressing the smallest peck on the side of his cheek. 

Your lips left a warm flutter on his cheek like a dew freckled petal caught in a breeze, so soft and with the smallest hint of coolness.

His almond eyes widened a bit, growing warm under the graze of your lips before cupping his cheek just as quickly.

You waved a quick goodbye to him, opening the door just before Donnie could open his mouth.

Donnie smiled softly. Though the weekly newspapers blew about the street he paid them no mind. The turtle still thought of it as you headed inside, snow fluttering on his covered shoulders. His hand lingering warmly by where you had kissed him.