NAPS
i don't wanna sit still, look pretty.
______

indie oc.
penned by FAYE

art credit


boficionado.   

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For a moment after he was whirled around, the young polymath stood silent, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, shoulders still tight. It was all he could do to keep his breathing steady and even, and he had to remind himself of one very important thing: she hadn’t had the benefit of a father who at least tried to teach them to manage their negative emotions.

Slowly, ignoring the way her nails dug in against the scales of his cheek, he let his shoulders loosen.

“You think I didn’t hear them? There was this moment, a split second when it happened, when everything was so… loud. Everything amplified. I heard my brothers screaming. Maybe it was molecular resonance or something similar, I don’t know, but that sound still keeps me up at night. Raph did tell me that it was reminding her of me that brought her out of it. And it’s because of that… I can’t give up on her.”

Quietly, he reached out to take the hand she’d broken the beaker with, curling back her fingers to pick out shards of glass. His expression is tight, a frown creasing his features.

“You know there’s other ways to deal with your anger. You don’t have to lash out and attack everything that makes you mad. I know, pot meets kettle, but… we’re all dealing with this. It’s hit us all really hard. But we can’t get through this if we’re barging ourselves off the same page.”

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« 🔧 »       Donnie was right about one thing; her parents were of no help. Her mother had been violent, with a temper to rival Leah’s. The only difference is that Jessamine had not withheld her hand from her child, or from her family. Her father… While he was Leah’s favorite, he had never shown her any affection. He had never shown her any ATTENTION. And perhaps that was why he had been her favorite.

Abuse and neglect did not come together to form a fully functioning human being, no matter what anyone believed.

“I’ll buy you another,” she said, dark eye watching his hands. Her nose twitched as a particularly large shard was removed. It hurt, yes, but it was just another moment of pain to ground her, and to help her forget. “Beakers aren’t really that expensive, an’ it ain’t like they’re hard to get a hold of.”

That was’t the point of this conversation; they both knew that. But what could she say? The pain had drained most of her anger. It would come back later; it always did. But for now, it had been sated by her pain and her blood. Now, all she wanted to do was nap.

Her cheeks puffed out at his words, and she furrowed her brow. “I didn’t attack you. I didn’t even lash out at you– so don’t you dare say I did. You’d KNOW if I was trying to hurt you.”

And that was what she was GOOD FOR. That was what she did best. She lashed out. She hurt others. And that strength was good on the battlefield. Whenever they were sparring or fighting or just trying to hurt others, that was where she was the most valuable. Here, though, with emotions bubbling and pain so close to being visible, she was useless. Emotions were useless. 

“I want a drink.”

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  # boficionado  # ⌠ .tmnt. ⌡ ❛ ᵛ⋅ ᶰᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶦᶰ' ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶰᵉᶜᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵃ ᵖᵃʸᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ⋅
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