#AI panic is going to be started

[s0fter-sin]

we’re like two days into the writers strike and studios have already said they’re thinking of using ai to write scripts for them i’m going to throw up

[arolesbianism]

I swear I'll never get over Olivia. Girlie rly just went I'm terrified of becoming like Jackie and then proceeded to follow her slippery slope anyways. She rly put herself in that robot huh.

[writersblockedx]

A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

[aitworld]

AI panic is going to be started?

Artificial Intelligence (AI) has been a hot topic for years, and as AI technology continues to evolve, people’s attitudes towards it are changing. Some are excited about the possibilities that AI can offer, while others fear that AI will have a negative impact on society, leading to what has been called “AI panic.” The Origins of AI Panic AI panic is not a new phenomenon, and it can be traced…

[fangswbenefits]

Another Chance

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Mentions of childbirth. Dad Miguel. Comfort. Fluff. Happy father’s day to the best of the best!

“I'M GONNA KILL MIGUEL O’HARA!”

Usually, that sort of threat would send everyone that was standing around you into an uproar. But given the extremely specific set of circumstances, they merely exchanged understanding glances, returning their attention to the task at hand.

“Jess… I’m going to kill him.”

The pain of the contractions felt too unbearable and gritting out empty threats was the only relief you could find right now.

“You have my blessing,” she nodded, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But for now, we need to deliver the baby."

It was too early. This wasn't supposed to happen right now... not like this.

A spider-nurse approached you with a fetal heart monitor to strap around your belly. Your already accelarated heart nearly imploded at the sight, fearing what the machine might reveal.

"Jess... I can't do this..." your voice broke.

Where is he...

Where is Miguel?

Your friend glared at you with kind eyes, swipping a piece of cloth along your sweat-drenched forehead. "You can and you will."

As another contraction tore through your body, you barely managed to grab the railings of your bed with a huff of pain. The spider-nurse was done setting the monitor and was now probing your arm for a vein.

"Where is Miguel?" you managed through laboured pants. "Lyla... where is he?"

The AI's hologram appeared from the watch on your wrist, that Jess promptly removed. You gave her a confused look, but it was probably for the better.

"He should be here soon. The anomaly is—" Lyla was cut off immediately by Jess.

The heart monitor was switched on and the room went suddenly eerily too quiet, save for your gasps.

Tense seconds rolled by that felt like excrutiating hours, until the sound of a thudding heart was heard.

"Slightly accelerated heartrate going at 191 beats per minute," spider-doctor informed. "The baby might be in distress."

Panic took over. "Do something! Miguel!"

The team attending you were working relentlessly, but no consolation came. The pain was borderline unbearable and your fear for your child's life.

... and Miguel was not here.

"You need to push," one spider-nurse said.

"Push," Jess urged. "You're doing great," she added with a warm smile.

She kept trying her best to soothe and guide you through the untimely turmoil, but it wasn't until your eyes caught a flash of two sets of claws tearing through the barrier of time and space in the middle of the room that you allowed yourself to slump back into your bed.

A cry of relief broke from deep within you as a fully suited Miguel O'hara emerged through the portal, sprinting to your side. The mask vanished instantly as he framed your face with both hands.

"I'm here."

You started sobbing uncontrollably when he planted a kiss to your forehead.

"Boss, she's fully dilated," spider-doctor spoke. "We really need her to push now."

"Miguel... this wasn't..." you stammered, gritting your teeth as the crescendo of another contraction began. "Where... I—”

He hushed you and anchored you through the pain. "You have to push, okay?"

Compared to a few minutes ago, Miguel's presence was nothing short of absolute comfort. But it wasn't enough the push away the fear that had overtaken you.

Jess was still by your side, whispering encouraging words as the staff worked in between your spread legs. Your vision blurred momentarily and you felt the sudden and overwhelming urge to push.

"This is all your... fault," you seethed at Miguel.

"On that much we can agree," he said softly, his thumbs brushing away the tears that mixed with sweat down your cheeks. "Push."

Blaming him was just a quick way to ease some of the frustration. He wasn't to blame. You had both wanted this.

"I can see the head!" you heard someone announce.

Miguel offered his hand for you to grip as you pushed. "I'll break it," you warned.

"You won't."

"He deserves it," Jess said teasingly.

But Miguel was right. As strong as you were — and the strength that women in labour were capable of mustering — you wouldn't even cause a dent in him. He was strong enough for the both of you.

"What´s taking so long?" his faint voice filled your ears.

"Almost there."

Suddenly, he had cradled your face in his large hands once more, forcing your eyes to fix on his. "You can do this. I'm so proud of you," he said, pecking the tip of your nose.

The air in your lungs was suddenly forced out with a finally throat-ripping grunt.

"It's here!"

You collapsed, feeling Miguel's arm promptly offering support on your back. A screeching sound of distress reverberated through the walls.

"It's a girl," one spider-nurse informed.

Even through your hazy eyes you were able to see Miguel's face, eyes transfixed on the little squirming baby that was being placed on your chest.

She was crying her heart out as someone who has been ripped from all the comfort and security a place could offer.

But now she had you and Miguel.

"She takes after you," you teased with a faint smile. "Already being so dramatic."

He chuckled, eyes permanently glued to the wailing baby. "I'm not dramatic. Just intense."

"Yes. Intensely dramatic.”

Miguel fell silent as he stroked a finger along the back of one soft tiny hand, miniscule fingers wrapping around it reflexively. The cries stopped abruptly.

His face softened and you wondered if he was about to tear up. He had longed for this for such a long time.

"Miguel?" Jessica said, covering your child with a towel.

He seemed too lost in his own thoughts, glaring at his daughter in a way that overwhelmed you. Like it was meant to be.

"I'll be going now," she said, offering you both a warm smile before leaving.

Suddenly, you realised Miguel was inspecting each limb with utmost attention. "What are you doing?"

He cleared his throat, placing a tiny hand on the palm of his. "Oh... uh... just counting how many fingers and toes she has."

"All five?" you offered with a chuckle.

"All five."

"No talons?"

He glared at you as if taken aback, then smiled. "Maybe one day."

"Do you think she'll have your fangs?"

"Oh, I hope not," he said, slowly checking the baby's bare gums. "That would be painful."

You then allowed yourself to take in the sight of your now relaxed daughter that lay on top of you. The wispy beginnings of hair that covered the top of her head were dark. Babies don't tend to resemble either parent when they're born - or so Miguel had once told you - and you couldn't wait to find out.

"What if... she doesn't like me?" he whispered, caressing a puffy cheek.

You almost chuckled, but he was dead serious. "She'll love you."

He leaned to place a kiss to your temple. "Thank you."

"For what?" you asked, feeling your heart bursting with absolute adoration for him.

"For giving me another chance at being a father."

Masterlist

[captainsophiestark]

Rebound

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by @navyhua! Hope you like it!

Fandom: DC

Summary: Dick and Babs just broke up, on the eve of an undercover mission requiring the cover to be as a couple. Luckily, Dick knows somebody who can step into Babs's place.

Word Count: 4,829

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"It's a three month minimum undercover mission. I completely understand if you're not up for it, but... I was hoping you'd be willing to take it on."

I stared holes in my kitchen wall, immensely grateful that Dick couldn't see my face right now. I kept the phone to my ear even though my good friend and vigilante buddy was finished speaking, now just waiting for my response. I felt more and more awkward with every second that passed, but I just couldn't bring myself to respond.

Dick was set to leave tomorrow morning for a massive, in-depth undercover mission to infiltrate a seriously dangerous group that a few of us had been keeping our eyes on. The cover required Dick and another person to go as a couple, acting completley and perfectly in love for the next few months. Until about a week ago, the plan had been perfectly set for him to go with Barbara Gordon, our mutual friend and his long-time girlfriend.

But then, just over a week ago, he and Barbara had broken up.

They were both fairly mature people, and had been friends long before they started dating, so there hadn't been much drama. Every single member of our group of friends and vigilantes had been relieved about that, not least of all because Dick and Barbara were essential leadership members of our teams, and a messy breakup would've been rough for more than just them. But, understandably, as a result of the breakup, they didn't want to go through with this undercover misison together, pretending to be a happy couple for months when their relationship had just ended.

I'd been part of conversations in passing troubleshooting what to do, but since I hadn't really had a role in the original plan, I hadn't paid much attention to the replanning. Now, it was all I could think about on a loop, since Dick had just asked me to go with him in Barbara's place.

I could tell from Dick's tone when he'd asked that he'd been worried about inconveniencing me on such short notice, especially since a few of our other friends had already tapped out due to scheduling conflicts. I was perfectly able to change my plans to go with him; scheduling was the least of my worries.

Instead, the number one concern dominating my mind was the absolutely gigantic, secret crush I'd been harboring on Dick for years. I'd been head over heels in love with the guy for a long time now, and the thought of spending months faking a relationship barely a week after he'd broken up with his girlfriend, another good friend of mine, made me sick to my stomach with nerves.

"Look, I know it's bad timing," Dick continued, apparently taking my absolute silence as indecision and not panic. "I'll understand if you can't make it work. But... if there's any chance you can get free, it would save the mission. You're just about my last hope of finding somebody who can see this through with me."

I let out a long sigh through my nose. This was a bad, stupid idea. But Dick needed my help, and I didn't want to leave him hanging. Besides, this mission was about more than a stupid crush. We were going after an organization doing legitimate harm to people, and if we didn't take this shot at taking them down, who knew when the next one might come along?

"Alright," I said, forcing the word out before I could second-guess myself anymore. "Alright, I'll do it."

"Really?" The joy and relief in Dick's voice made my heart do a backflip, and I shook my head at myself. "Thank you, so much. I'll come pick you up in the morning so we can head out. Is that enough time for you to pack and get everything in order?"

"Yeah, it should be," I said, fighting to keep the resignation and regret out of my tone. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Perfect! I'll bring your favorite coffee order."

I could practically hear the adorable wink in his voice that I loved to see in person as he hung up the phone. I let out a long, heavy sigh and set my own phone face down on the counter. This was a terrible idea. But it was too late to back out now.

I needed to pack.

****************

True to his word, Dick knocked on my door bright and early the next morning. I'd been pretty unable to sleep last night thanks to my brain overthinking the decision I'd just made, but on the bright side, it meant I'd had plently of time to pull off the perfect packing job. When I opened my door to find Dick grinning, an extra coffee in-hand for me, I was already ready to go.

"Good morning," he said, fixing me with the smile that never failed to make my heart race. "Here's your coffee, as promised."

I did my best to smile back as I took the cup from him, one bag already slung over my shoulder.

"Thanks."

"Thank you. For... probably obvious reasons, Babs and I really weren't in a place to do this mission together. If you hadn't been willing to step in on such short notice, we would've been in serious trouble."

"...Glad I could help."

"Here, let me give you a hand with your bags."

It didn't take more than one trip for Dick and I to get everything loaded in "our" car. For the sake of our cover, we were driving over to the gorgeous resort we'd be staying at together in this rental, in character from the moment we got within a few miles of the place.

I paused for just a second outside the passenger side door before joining Dick. I was not going to let this stupid crush compromise our mission, especially not when I knew Dick was still processing a major breakup. We'd been alone plenty of times before, we'd been friends for years. Sure, it would be a little different to act like a couple, but I made myself a promise then and there that I wouldn't let myself get carried away. For my sake, and for Dick's.

****************

"So, how long have you two been together?"

Dick and I shared a look, and I knew neither of us had to fake the warm smile spreading on both of our faces. For the sake of creating a cover we could stick to easily, Dick and I had kept a lot of truth in our fake story, including things like when we'd met. Dick already had one arm around my waist, but he pulled me in tighter to his side as he answered the question for both of us without breaking my eye contact.

"Almost two years now. Although, we've known each other a lot longer."

"Since we were kids."

Dick's hand gently squeezed my waist, and my heart felt like it was about to burst from the warm glow this man seemed to cause with just a single look. We really had been in each other's lives a long time now; we'd been each other's constants through quite a lot of change and challenge.

Which was why I forced myself to take a deep breath and a half-step back from our cover as a couple as Dick turned away to face the people in front of us. We'd been here for almost two months now, and at first, I'd been doing fine with separating reality from the fake story we were trying to sell everyone else. But in the last few weeks, something just felt... different.

I knew it was in my head, but more recently, when Dick gazed into my eyes to sell that we were deeply in love, it felt like there was an energy and a truth there that hadn't existed before. When he kissed me to maintain our cover, he never lingered, but in the past few weeks the small pecks seemed to stretch out for an extra few milliseconds more than they necessarily needed to, especially when Dick's arms were around me.

I took a careful sip of the drink in my hand as I forced my attention back to the couple in front of us. Dick had been carrying the entire conversation, which wasn't fair to him. He was an outstanding performer, and I needed to stop buying into our own press. It was a fine line to walk while we were quite literally in the belly of the beast, at a massive party with all of the targets we'd been gathering information on for months, but in the back of my head I chanted a little reminder to myself: "friend friend friend friend friend".

"Well, the two of you certainly make a sweet couple," said the woman in front of us with a smile. "We're glad you were able to join us here."

"We are, too," I said, returning her smile. "It's been a wonderful experience, and some great time for the two of us to get to spend together."

"But now, if you'll excuse us," Dick broke in with one of his trademark grins, pulling me a few steps to the side with him, "we're just dying to go dance."

The couple we'd been speaking to waved us away with adoring smiles, and my heart skipped a beat as Dick whirled us onto the dance floor, his arms wrapped tightly around me. We'd spent plenty of Wayne Galas dancing the night away like fools, but never this intimately. The chant in my head died down despite my best efforts.

Dick and I swayed to the music, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist as I rested my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he leaned in closer, and my heart did a backflip. He brought his mouth right up to my ear, and I swear I was on the verge of cardiac arrest until he spoke.

"I just got a message from Wally. We got all the evidence we need, and they're about to break in here and take down the whole room."

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the pit of disappointment opening in my stomach. We'd done our jobs, and unless something went wrong in the next few moments, we were about to get some very bad people out of a position to do harm. The last thing I should have been feeling was disappointment.

"They're gonna need some kind of distraction while they put the last touches into place, especially for the security guys around the room. I've got an idea, but I need you to go with it, okay?"

I nodded, even though my clenching heart told me this was a bad, bad idea.

"I trust you."

Dick's hands squeezed my waist, and then he was spinning me, out and away from him. I let him lead, trusting him and trusting myself to know what to do when the time came. The music around us swelled to a finale for this song, and Dick had worked us right into the middle of the room. He dipped me, then held my hands tightly once I was standing upright in front of him again. As the last notes faded throughout the room, he dropped to one knee before me.

The gasp I let out was real. Everyone around the room echoed it. If Wally needed a distraction, Dick had found the perfect way to do it.

I quickly threw my hands up to my face, mirroring the normal reaction and also giving myself some room to get in the zone. Dick just smiled up at me, his face practically radiating love and affection.

"My love... I've been waiting for the right time to do this, and I can't think of a better one than now." The phrase was enough to help me get back in the zone, if only slightly. This was the best time for a fake proposal, as a distraction for our friends. "You make me the happiest man alive. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with. So... would you do me the absolute honor of agreeing to marry me?"

I huffed a little laugh, letting a smile creep onto my face as my hands dropped. I knew how to sell the act, and more importantly, I'd managed to keep it straight in my head that we were acting.

"Yes. Baby, a thousand times yes! I love you so much."

Dick grinned, popping a up from where he'd been kneeling and sliding a ring I recognized as one of his own onto my finger. In a pinch, it'd work as a fake engagement ring, especially since if everything went according to plan, no one in the room would get the chance to look at it up close.

Cheers errupted around us as Dick finished giving me the ring. I smiled up at him, expecting that to more or less be the end of things, but then he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me tightly into his chest. His other hand came up to cup the back of my neck, and he pulled me into a deep, searing kiss unlike anything we'd ever done for our cover so far.

An absolutely tiny part of my brain argued that this was all part of creating a distraction that would do its job and distract for as long as our team needed to get in here. But the rest of me disagreed. This kiss, the way he held me, felt different. We'd been faking it for two months, I knew what that felt like. But as Dick held me to him and kissed me like the world was ending, there was a spark of something real and wonderful that I knew I wasn't imagining.

In the back of my mind, I recognized the sounds of shouting and glass shattering from the room around us. I blocked out all of them as Dick slowly pulled away from me, his eyes locking onto mine. I just stared back, my mouth slightly open. No doubt, our cover was broken now as our friends descended on the place, and yet the soft look in Dick's eyes didn't fade for an instant. He breathed my name, but then a shout that sounded like Wally came from across the room, and the moment broke. Dick turned to look in the direction of the noise, then dropped his hands from my waist and rushed into the fray with nothing more than a quick glance back at me.

I felt like someone had driven a knife into my heart and was wiggling it around with reckless abandon, but I forced myself to lock down the emotions, at least for a moment. Our friends were fighting to get and keep control of the room, and they needed all the help they could get.

Thankfully, I'd been working with this team as a vigilante for long enough that it came back to me perfectly naturally, even while my emotions were trying to take me out then and there. Gradually, we managed to get control of the room, securing all the bad guys Dick and I had been scouting for months. Once the action calmed down, I searched the room for Dick, intending to pull him aside and talk to him. Honestly, I'd been expecting him to be looking for me to do the same thing. But instead, I found him across the room, his attention completely focused on Barbara.

I bit down on my tongue so hard I almost drew blood. That knife in my heart had dug in deeper than I'd thought possible. I turned away, using the cover of cleaning up the mess in the room to hide my face from my friends, and tried to get a hold of myself. It's not like Dick and I were anything real. He'd just gotten out of a long term relationship, and everything we'd been doing for the past two months was supposed to be fake. Even if I'd thought I felt something different in that last kiss... it might not have meant anything to Dick.

I focused on taking deep breaths as I helped Wally, Dick, and the rest of our team wrap up the last loose threads on our mission. I kept trying to catch Dick's eye, but he refused to even look at me, which hurt about a thousand times worse than seeing him go running to Barbara. I loved both of them, and I didn't want to let my emotions convince me to do something I'd regret, so I took off at the first opportunity, saying I was exhausted and needed to rest. Thankfully, none of my friends called me on it.

Dick barely seemed to notice at all.

****************

After getting some breathing room from Dick and the illusion we'd created for the sake of our mission, I still couldn't shake the feeling that something had been different in that last kiss. Even if it didn't mean anything to Dick, even if he felt it was a mistake and wasn't interested in me the way I'd been interested in him, I knew we needed to talk about it. This radio silence would turn into a friendship-crushing awkwardness that I honestly couldn't take.

I called Dick two days after we got home from our mission to ask him to come over or grab coffee for a conversation, but he'd brushed me off with a lame excuse. I'd tried to set something up with him or else catch him at one of our training bases another dozen times over the next few weeks, but he just kept ducking me. It was incredibly unlike him, but after so many attempts, I took the hint. There really wasn't much else I could do. Whatever was going on with him, whatever had been behind that last kiss on our mission, Dick clearly wanted nothing to do with me now.

I debated talking to one of our other friends about it. If he kept avoiding me for too much longer, maybe I would. But eventually I decided that if he wanted space that badly, then I would give it to him.

I'd gone about three days after making that resolution before I'd broken down. I sat at my kitchen counter, drafting and redrafting a message to send to Dick to hopefully open the door between us again to talk and be friends like normal, before this mission had made things so weird. I didn't even care if he didn't feel the same way about me romantically, or if he wanted to say I'd been hallucinating whatever I'd felt during that last kiss. I just wanted my friend back.

I'd just gotten to a draft of my message that I didn't absolutely hate every word of when a knock came at my door. I frowned. I hadn't been expecting anybody, and honestly, I didn't want to be interrupted in the middle of drafting this stupid message lest I chicken out for another few days.

I stood up with a sigh to check the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Dick on the other side. Even worse, he had a boquet of flowers in his hand. Whatever that was about, my brain and body were telling me I was way too nervous to ever know.

I was just contemplating whether I could get away with pretending not to be home, all the courage to do with the message draining away at the thought of having to say it to him in person, when he called my name from the other side of the door.

"I know you're home," he continued. "And honestly, I understand if you don't want to talk to me right now, but... I'd really like the chance to explain myself."

That, at least, got my attention. I took a deep breath, then slowly opened the door, revealing Dick on the other side. He gave me a smile as soon as he saw me, but it was much weaker than I was used to. Honestly, he looked more nervous than I'd ever seen him before.

"Thanks for opening the door," he said. He held the flowers out to me, and gingerly I took them. "Do you, uh... do you mind if I come in?"

"Of course not," I said, sighing a little as I stepped aside to make room for Dick. A bit of the tension in his shoulders seemed to fade at my words, and he stepped past me into my apartment. I shut the door, planning to ask if he wanted something to drink before we both settled in for whatever this conversation was going to be, but Dick beat me to the punch.

"Listen, I want to start by saying I'm sorry for disappearing on you." He spoke emphatically, standing in the middle of my entryway, his eyes locked completely on mine. Apparently we were doing this now. "I needed some time and some space to figure things out, but I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way in the process."

I cleared my throat and shrugged, setting the flowers down and then crossing my arms.

"Well, let's see. After spending two months together joined at the hip, you kissed me... like that, and then turned around and disappeared on me with a bunch of lame ass excuses for why you didn't have time to see me. Yeah, Dick, whatever that was, it hurt."

He grimaced, but took a step closer to me all the same.

"I'm sorry. I could've handled myself better. But..." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away from me for the first time since he'd gotten here. I just raised an eyebrow and waited for whatever he decided to say next. When he met my eyes again, he looked a little at war with himself. "...I need you to promise me something."

I huffed a little laugh. "Seriously? Dick, you said you wanted to come in and explain something, so let's start there."

He just shook his head. "I need you to promise me that our friendship won't be affected. Alright? If I promise you that I won't make it weird, I need you to promise me you'll at least try to do the same."

"Dick, there is only one of us in this room who's made the friendship weird recently, and it's you. But... fine. I promise."

Dick let out a sigh of relief, then straightened up as he met my eyes.

"While we were on our mission... I started to feel like I wanted what we were pretending to do to be real. I realized I liked holding you, and kissing you, and having people look at us and know we were together. And as a result, I let myself get carried away when I kissed you on the last night of our mission. And I'm sorry for that."

I just stared back at him, my brain working overtime to try to process what he'd just said. I don't know what I'd been expecting, but a confession that my long-time friend and crush had spent the two months of our mission wrestling the same feelings I'd been struggling with? That hadn't been it.

Although, it was certainly a nice surprise.

"Dick..." I breathed, trying to decide where to start with what he'd just said. He broke back in before I got the chance to decide.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way," he said quickly. "I don't mean to put pressure on you. But... I didn't feel like I could keep that secret from you, especially after that kiss."

The smallest hint of a smile pulled its way onto my face despite myself.

"You don't need to apologize," I said. "Not for that, anyway. I... ugh, I can't believe I'm about to admit this, but I've had feelings for you for... a long time. I didn't mind that kiss one bit."

Dick's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, really. It's why I was so hesitant to take the mission in the first place. But we didn't really have another option to go get those guys, and I've gotten pretty good at shoving those feelings away and focusing on our friendship instead, so... here we are, I guess."

Now it was Dick's turn for a little smile. His seemed to be incredibly relief-driven, although we weren't totally out of the woods yet.

"That's incredible to hear," he said. "Seriously, I was getting worried I'd crossed a line and destroyed our friendship."

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" I asked. "Because if so, Dick, you should've just talked to me-"

"No, that's not why. At least, not entirely." I raised an eyebrow, and Dick took another deep breath before continuing. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you, I just got out of a pretty long relationship with Barbara. When we'd started our mission especially, it'd only been a week."

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep the storm of emotions that memory brought on from showing on my face. "I remember."

Dick gave me a knowing little smile, then continued.

"Well, about halfway through our undercover mission... that's when I started feeling more than the usual friendship feelings about you. It felt real and right and like something I wanted to pursue, but... Barbara was my first long-term relationship. The two have us have known each other forever, and even though we parted on good terms, it still felt a little... weird, to just be moving on like that. And I care about you. A lot. I didn't want to make a mistake and end up hurting you. I wanted to be sure that my feelings were real, and not just a side effect of the breakup or our proximity and cover. I wanted to make sure I didn't treat you like a rebound. So, I ran when the mission finished, to get some space and to think. Maybe I could've handled that part better, but by the end of our two months, I was seriously starting to lose it holding feelings back, so... I couldn't think of a better way to handle things in the moment."

"...And? You took all that time and space, what did you figure out?"

The faint smile returned to Dick's face, along with the usual easy confidence I knew so well. He closed the last of the distance between us, gently taking my hands in his, and I let him.

"I figured out that these feelings I have for you are a lot more than a rebound, or proximity driven, or whatever else. I took some time to process, especially the stuff to do with Babs, and I feel good about why and how we ended. It was the right choice, for both of us, and we're both better for it. And most importantly, I think my next right choice is you. I'm just happier when I'm around you. My heart feels warmer when I get to hold you in my arms. You almost sent me into cardiac arrest with your outfit on the last night of our mission. So, if you feel the same way... I'd really like to be your boyfriend. Or at least take you on a date, if you want to start slower."

"I... I'm not going to lie, I kind of feel like I'm hallucinating right now."

Dick laughed. "I hope you at least feel like it's a positive hallucination?"

"Oh, definitely. Not one that I want to end by any means."

"Good. Then... is that a yes? To a date?"

I smiled, meeting Dick's eyes as my heart did backflips. "That's a yes to dating. Exclusively, if you're at that point, too."

"Absolutely I am. I'm... so happy to hear you say that."

I grinned. "I mean, I do feel like we're a little past first-date territory. Sure, we haven't technically been on one yet, but all the traditional first date activities are relationship markers we passed years ago. I already know all about your hometown, favorite color, and secret vigilante lifestyle."

Dick laughed again, letting go of my hands to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me into his chest instead. My heart was practically beating out of my chest, and when I brought one hand up to rest on Dick's chest, I could feel that his was, too.

"You know, I might not count 'secret vigilante lifestyle reveal' as a first date milestone," he teased. I hummed, pretending to think on the issue.

"I don't know, Dick. I mean, that's a pretty big potential dealbreaker you might want to get out of the way early-"

I stopped my teasing short as Dick moved forward, bringing his lips to mine for a real kiss, no undercover pretense attached. I melted into him, everything else in the world instantly fading to irrelevance. Despite our long history as friends, it really was too early for some things, including using the "L" word. But that didn't mean I didn't feel it, heart and soul. The past few months had been a constant emotional rollercoaster, but no matter what came next, this moment and this budding relationship with Dick made everything else worth it in my book.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

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[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

One of Us is Guilty; Chapter 3

Three are now dead, but the killer seems to be caught ... but this night is not over until the room is found.

Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Silver, Cater Diamond

Content; Unreliable narrators, murder mystery

Content Warning; Death, murder, blood, anxiety, kidnapping, overall dead dove content warnings

Word Count; 1.1 K

Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Link to the Google Form to vote!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)

The body count had risen to three; Dire Crowley, the Ramshackle Prefect (whose blood still stained the floor, the iron scent permeating the air), and now, Divus Crewel as well, the latest victim. One minute the professor was alive, shaking from anger that one of his students was killed on his watch and that he was the prime suspect of the killings. But now he was sprawled out on the ground, killed in an instant.

The remaining students — Vil, Rook, Azul, Jade, Silver, and Cater — were silent, processing what exactly had just happened. The lights had flickered only for a minute, and in that minute, the killer had struck. But the silence was broken by a deafening clap of thunder, lightning illuminating the windows, and bringing everyone back to the present, to their laughably horrible situation that they had found themselves in by sheer chance and bad luck and timing.

Silver sat down on the staircase, and put his head in between his legs, taking deep breaths. Despite his training, he did not consider that he would be witnessing death so soon. The small part of his brain that had a sliver of hope that his friend had survived their gruesome injury, but he was just lying to himself; no one could survive that.

Vil was pacing, hands clasped behind his back, and he was muttering to himself. He thought he could read people, what with being raised amongst the stars that hid behind too-sweet smiles that belied venomous words. What was there to gain from any of this?

Rook was cracking his knuckles, and then rubbing his eyes, trying to think of why this was happening. While he could appreciate the hunt, this was something entirely different. Yet, it also reminded him of several books; one being a murder mystery, and the other about the deadliest game, of hunting a fellow person.

Azul was shaking and biting his nails, his resolve long gone. Had he made himself the enemy of one of his peers? Was he going to be next? He was supposed to just be perfecting a potion recipe for the next test, yet he found himself way above his head.

Jade looked at Azul, taking in that his house warden and friend was shaking more than the leaves outside in the howling wind. He too was disturbed by the night's events, sick to his stomach even, but he couldn’t show weakness, especially if he wanted to see it through.

And Cater? He was paler than a ghost, a cold sweat glistening on his forehead, and he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his throat. His cheery smile had left long ago, and now panic was fully starting to take control. Why? Why? Whywhywhy? WHY?! Yet he stayed silent.

No one spoke, but they eyed each other with caution. Every time that they had went to the mirror and they voted through it, someone died. Was it the mirror? No… no, that didn’t make sense… None of this made any sense though. 

“No more votin-” Silver whispered.

Cater cracked his head around, green eyes judging every move the underclassman made. “And why’s that, Silver?” His voice was shaky, but Cater wasn’t trusting him or anyone for that matter. “Afraid that-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Vil barked, commanding everyone’s attention, eyes all on him. But he was used to eyes being on him, and he stayed cool, despite how this may damn him into being guilty in their eyes. He didn’t care at the moment though, all he cared about was no one else dying. “Look at what being suspicious of each other has brought us,” his eyes wandered to the dark clotted blood that had now gone cold. He swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, keeping the calm mask up. “I agree with Silver though; voting through the mirror only ends up with someone… dead.”

“Then how do we proceed, Roi du Poison?” Rook asked, falling to his house warden’s side. His eyes looked over everyone, picking up their behaviours, emotions, and any tells.

Azul’s head snapped up. “The potion-” he started muttering to himself, before clearing his throat and gaining his composure again. “A truth potion, but one that shows the truth about the situation, we can use that to find the killer.”

Cater looked at Silver, and offered him his hand; a peace offering. Silver took it, and brought himself up on wobbly knees. A truce.

Jade placed his hand on Azul’s shoulder, offering him a bit of comfort that not everyone was out to get him. “Was that what you were working on?”

Azul nodded, and he started making his way towards the alchemy lab, where hopefully they could put an end to the killer’s little charade once and for all.

…

…

Vil helped Azul make the potion, and both students kept a keen eye on the other, but they made it without incident. And to show the others that they hadn’t tampered with it at all, they took it first, with the others shortly following suit.

“What about the room?” Silver asked.

“We can figure that out once we find the killer,” Jade countered.

Everyone looked at each other, taking in any minute details, but everyone was calm; the potion apparently did wonders to calm the nerves… but that in itself was a dangerous effect, since now everyone’s guards were down, making them easy targets.

Vil took in a breath and released it. “Who killed Dire Crowley? Why did you then kill the Prefect, and then Professor Crewel?” 

But no one spoke up.

“It isn’t me,” Vil said confidently, hoping that his speaking up prompted the others to follow suit.

Cater was to his left, and he spoke next. “I didn’t do it.”

Then Silver, “Or me… I couldn’t do something like this…”

“I did not do it either,” Jade offered.

Azul’s eyes went wide, and he eyed the next person in line. “The killer isn’t me.”

All eyes fell on the last person left in their little circle; Rook. With all of them but him left, that only left him.

He let out a throaty, quiet, chuckle. “I suppose this game has run its course,” he tipped his hat to them, green eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light. “As for why? Hmmm,” he hummed, and the hairs on everyone’s necks stood on end. There was something off about Rook, this wasn’t Rook. 

“You’ll find that out when you guess the room.”

What?

Everyone took a step closer to each other, away from Rook, and they whispered amongst each other, voting on what room Crowley’s murder took place in.

“Alchemy lab,” Cater spoke for the group, trying to keep his resolve as Rook seemed to stare into the very contents of his soul, like he was searching for something.

Rook stepped forward, still smiling. “Ah, désolé Monsieur Magicam,” the whites of his eyes started turning black, “but you would be wrong.” The lights flickered again, and in the seconds of darkness, Rook was gone, and so was Cater.

GOOGLE FORM (voting will end Wednesday, October 18th at 9pm EST)

SUSPECTS:

- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley’s co-worker (Peacock) DECEASED - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what’s happening (Mustard) MURDERER - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the ‘house-keeper’, a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) DECEASED - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach) MISSING

ROOMS:

- Main hall (eliminated in Chapter 2) - Teachers’ lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab (eliminated in Chapter 3) - Library - Crowley’s office (eliminated in Chapter 1)

WEAPON: MAGIC (found in Chapter 2)

…

To be continued

[goodlucktai]

now the darkness comes alive

rise of the tmnt movie canon divergence word count: 10k characters: raph & leo

welcome to a very self-indulgent roleswap au that i started dreaming up in my friend’s turtle discord. big thank you to rem for the song rec that gave me the insp to finish (and name!) the fic, and also to lake, sara and meeks for enabling my insane behavior <3

oh, now the darkness comes alive it comes for me and i come for you

—brother, the rural alberta advantage

read on ao3

x

The Krang’s spike pierces through plastron and flesh with a sickening crunch and Leo makes an awful punched-out sound. Raph is seconds too slow, and seconds is all it takes for his entire world to end. 

For the past two years, they’ve been at constant odds, Leo going out of his way to undermine and annoy him. Every interaction was laced with frustration, hurt, worry, confusion. Why are you being like this? Raph wanted to ask, wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake until an answer came out. What did I do to you?

It was a miserable way to live. Being angry at someone you love more than anything, having nowhere to put it down, forced to hold onto it and hold onto it and hold onto it. Every day another argument, every night laying awake and hoping that tomorrow would be different. 

He missed Leo. He missed how they used to be. He didn’t know why Pops’ announcement had turned them against each other. He hadn’t thought anything would be able to do that. 

Once or twice Raph had a moment of weakness and imagined what it would be like if he just quit. If he went to Splinter and told him he was done. Let someone else be the oldest, the biggest, the one who carried everyone else. But that thought was always followed instantly by another, louder one—how small would he feel if he didn’t have little turtles climbing on his back and sitting on his shoulders? How empty would his arms be if he didn’t have anyone to carry in them? 

That’s the whole point. That’s why he’s so afraid. That’s why being left alone drives him straight past anxious and into a blackout. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them. 

And now he’s living his worst nightmare. He’s living outside his own body, watching from somewhere else. It doesn’t feel real. 

His little brother, his little Leo, crumpled beneath him, blood staining bright blue an ugly rust color. His chest is heaving as if each breath hurts and his eyes are wide and wet. He’s gazing up at Raph like they’re children again. It’s the way he looked when he was afraid of a thunderstorm or he was about to get in trouble and he needed Raph to make it better. He always looked at Raph first. 

The monsters behind them are laughing. One of them starts talking, the sound coming closer at a leisurely pace. They aren’t safe. Leo is bleeding. Raph is afraid to touch him, shaking hands hovering over his cracked plastron. He doesn’t know what to do. His mind is white with panic. 

He has the escape pod in his hand, not yet activated. He doesn’t know if it’s safe to use it. Leo is skewered to the ground, pinned like a butterfly to corkboard. Donnie’s tech is highly intuitive, all of it programmed into S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s AI infrastructure, and maybe the pod would know to account for the particulars of the situation, but there almost definitely isn’t a way to remove Leo safely in the seconds they don’t really have to work with. 

Leo blinks, and the wetness in his eyes spills out, and Raph just wants to pick him up. Carry him somewhere safe. Leo has always been larger than life, but right now he looks impossibly small. 

“Hey, hey,” Raphael soothes, the same way he has a thousand times before, after bad dreams and skinned knees, “you’re okay. Raph’s here, you’re okay.”

Those gold eyes slide to the side, looking at a point behind Raph. Leo’s arm moves, and something cold and solid presses against Raph’s chest. It’s the key, and Leo’s hand is trembling so hard that Raph’s closes around it instinctively, taking the weight of it from him. 

Because he’s Leo, the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile. 

“I told you,” he says hoarsely. It somehow manages to sound wry, like they’re in on a joke together. “I got it.”

Then he uses the hand that Raph isn’t holding to activate the escape pod lingering between them and pushes it those scant few fatal inches forward. Raph doesn’t realize what the beep means until the pod unfolds in front of him and yanks him unceremoniously away from his brother.

“No,” Raph says, light-headed with fear, “no!” 

But a machine couldn’t possibly understand the wrong it was doing. What it was leaving behind. Raph pummels the inside of the pod hysterically but without his ninpo he can’t do enough to damage something Donnie built specifically to safeguard their family. It lifts him up and away and Leo’s crooked little smile gets smaller and smaller until it’s gone.  

——

When the pod touches down in the lair and releases him, the world around Raph is strangely muffled. There’s a ringing in his ears. He thinks he can hear voices but it’s all just noise. Nothing fully clears the chaos in his own head. 

Donatello is directly in front of him, and his hands are white-knuckled on the side of an empty blue pod. He looks like he already knows something went very wrong. His eyes are bright gold, a mirror of his twin’s, and the quiet fear in them places Raph directly back inside the warehouse, surrounded by monsters, too late to protect anyone, Leo’s blood on his hands, Leo looking up at him— 

Raph’s stomach lurches and he turns sharply away. His gaze lands on Casey Jones instead, who appraises him warily in turn, slim shoulders going stiff beneath the battered Genius Built armor. 

“Leo went back for the key,” Raph says, his voice a deep growling thing that cuts through the noise and brings down a curtain of stillness. He holds the stupid thing out, and if it were made of anything less than strange alien stone, his grip would have crushed it into pieces. Casey’s eyes drop to it and brighten, like it’s a good thing that it’s here even though Leo’s not. Relief floods every inch of his face until he looks even younger than he did already. 

“He got it,” the boy says reverently, taking it in both hands. “I knew he would.”

Raphael wants to scream. He wants to step back and let some other version of himself take the reins while he finds a hole to cry in. He doesn’t want to turn at his father’s firm call of his name or force himself to lift his chin until Splinter can meet his eyes and find all the miserable failure festering inside him, but he does. 

April is looking around and behind Raph, her eyes jumping to the red pod still standing open and then back again, as if finally noticing that Leo wasn’t tucked in there, too. As if it is only just occurring to her that there is a universe that exists where Raphael leaves Leonardo behind, and it’s this one, and it’s horrible. 

Donnie might as well be carved from stone, but Mikey is starting to get worked up, looking between everyone else with huge red eyes, trying to hear the thing they’re all not saying.

“He went back for the key,” Raphael says again, choking the words out. “I couldn’t—I wasn’t fast enough to—”

He clenches his fists and it drags his siblings’ attention to the blood on them. April covers her mouth and Mikey takes in a breath so sharp it must cut and Donnie starts to flap his hands. Splinter closes his eyes, looking as though he’s aged about a hundred years in the last few minutes. 

“What? That’s not possible,” Casey interjects as if he can’t help it. The young soldier glances around the room, like Leo is going to pop up from behind the turnstiles and rib them all for being so gullible. “Master Leonardo is the greatest ninja the world has ever seen, he wouldn’t just—”

“He’s not master anything!” Raph only barely manages not to roar. “He’s a sixteen-year-old kid!”

Casey flinches away from his anger and Raphael brutally wrestles it into submission. It’s not doing any good here. Casey is a kid, too. 

“Raph,” Mikey blurts, too loud and too fast, “is Leo dead?”

The word sucks the air out of the room and Donnie makes a noise like he’s been kicked in the stomach and Raph says, “No. No, Angie, he’s alive.” 

Even though their ninpo is locked away, and with it that subconscious knowledge of each other always lingering comfortably in the back of their minds like a warm afterthought, Raph knows they would know if Leo was gone. They would be able to tell. The world would be fundamentally changed, nothing would ever be the same again. 

He puts his hands on Mikey’s shoulders and adds, “We’re gonna bring him home.” 

The plan isn’t much of one, but their resident schemer is very much not present, and no one questions Raph when he lays it out. Donnie robotically admits that he has the means to track Leo, so the turtles and Future Boy are going to head that way and retrieve him, while Splinter and April babysit the key. 

“Use the shell hogs and just keep moving for now,” Raph says. “They have something we want, we have something they want.”

April nods, grimly understanding. If the only Hail Mary shot they have of getting their brother back is handing over the key and finding an opening to steal it back later, that’s just what they’ll have to do. 

Pops abandoned the Hamato Clan’s teachings in the first place because he didn’t agree with their preachings of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. He handed over the final piece of the dark armor without flinching when his sons’ lives hung in the balance. Even if the rest of their ancestors wouldn’t understand, Raphael does. 

He remembers the jar of oozesquitos he held onto once, trying—and failing—to call Draxum’s bluff. He may be a slow learner, but he only needs to be taught the lesson once. 

Leo risked his life to return this key to his family, so Raph is going to fight for it like an insane person for as long as it makes sense to. But if it comes down to abandoning one to save the other…

He’s his father’s son. He knows which choice he’ll make. 

——

In the Turtle Tank, Mikey and Donnie distract themselves on the trip to Metro Tower station by peppering Casey with questions about the future. The human answers readily, describing Master Donatello’s technological genius—holding out his arms so the entirety of his battered, cyberpunk-style kit is on display—and going on at length about Master Michelangelo’s mystic prowess. 

“I could fly?” Mikey squeaks, drumming his hands on the dash rapidly. “Was it cool?” 

“The coolest,” Casey is quick to agree. “And you opened a portal that sent me through time.”

But the warmth in Casey’s eyes doesn’t last very long, fading into something that looks uncomfortably like grief instead. He tends to look at all of them like that, like he’s in a room full of ghosts. 

He darts a sidelong glance in Raph’s direction and quickly faces forward again, staring out the windshield from Leo’s seat. He’s avoided speaking to him as much as possible, and Raphael can, unfortunately, put two and two together. 

Casey is familiar with everyone else—even April and Splinter—but he dances around Raph as if he’s a stranger. He didn’t know Raph in the future, he knew of him—someone to be respectful of and fall in line for, but certainly not one of the uncles he could brag about to their younger selves. 

When the Tank has gone as far through the tunnels as possible, drawn to a stop at a massive tangle of alien vines, they get out and continue on foot. Raph can feel his little brothers walking as close to him as they can without outright admitting that they’re unnerved, all of their guards completely up, senses dialed to eleven. 

The underground is home to them, always has been, and generally speaking if you’ve seen one subway tunnel you’ve seen them all. But the floodlights from Donnie’s battleshell illuminate a scene that looks like it belongs on another planet. Impossible masses of pink-purple mess dangle everywhere like Halloween store decorations, and the subway cars have been upended off the rails and twisted out of shape. 

Casey’s mask is down, the lenses glowing green as he prowls forward without missing a beat. If he came here from a future where the Krang won, Raph can only imagine what the New York City he grew up in looked like. 

“I hate to be painfully obvious, but since my other half isn’t present, I suppose it falls on my shoulders,” Donatello says after a moment, the sardonic tone of voice at odds with his very low register. “Something feels off.” 

He’s barely got the words out when hundreds of little lights blink at them from the jungle of purple vines—not lights, glowing eyes. The silent tunnel explodes into chaos a second later as they’re ambushed by parasite-controlled people and creatures and even objects. 

Raph and Casey are neatly separated from Donnie and Mikey within a manner of minutes. Raph’s heart is in his throat as he pummels through wave after wave of the infected, and it doesn’t settle until he hears on the comms that his little brothers have taken shelter in the Tank. 

He and Casey are pushed farther and farther away, chased down one of the tunnels by an animated subway car on what looks like spidery crab legs, towards a dead end. When Raphael feels the ground start to give beneath them, he acts on seventeen years of big brother instinct and very little else, seizing Casey around the middle and curling around him completely as they fall. 

It’s a dizzying, topsy-turvy couple of minutes, falling from the subway tracks into a maintenance tunnel underneath, and it takes awhile for his ears to stop ringing. He glances down at the human in his arms and notes with relief that Casey seems to be okay–tucked up small and compact against Raph’s plastron, all limbs accounted for, in such a practiced way that Raph thinks he’s been protected in exactly this manner more than once before. 

Neither of them speak right away, coming down from the rush of adrenaline and waiting for the shifting of crumbled concrete to stop and the dust to clear. Raph’s shell was made of sturdy stuff even before he became a chaotic alchemists’s bioengineering experiment, so when he’s certain they’re relatively safe, he pushes off the ground with his hands and lets the debris roll harmlessly off his back and shoulders. 

“Are you hurt?” Raph asks, sitting back to give Casey room to collect himself. 

“Um, no,” Casey says, tugging his cape down from where it had caught around one of his pauldrons. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but more like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself now that it’s just the two of them, looking up at Raph and then away again. 

Raph can’t help it. He says, “I died, didn’t I? In the future.”

Casey jerks, as if he was surprised to be asked so plainly. Then his shoulders hunch, and he nods. 

“You all did,” he says haltingly. “Uncle Tello when I was thirteen, and sensei and Uncle Angie just… just before I got sent back.” 

Cold dread slams into Raph’s stomach. He doesn’t want to believe he and his siblings could ever truly be divided, but the proof is sitting in front of him. It’s hard to hear that the end of the world managed to take Raph from his little siblings. Donnie from his twin. That Leo and Mikey were left all alone, with a kid to take care of, and a losing war to fight. 

Casey swallows hard, and curls his hands into fists, visibly forcing himself past the loss that probably sits in his stomach and throat like barbed wire. 

“But you—it happened when I was little. I wasn’t really old enough to remember you.” Each word mincing and careful, he goes on, “Growing up, sensei talked about you all the time. He used to say you were the best—best brother, best leader. And he was so afraid when Master Splinter put him in charge, because he had no idea how to be as good as you. He didn’t want things to change, he was happy being your right-hand man. Sensei made it sound like he was really childish about the whole thing. He said he must have been a real disappointment.”

Raphael absorbs the words like a blow. 

Leo, his little brother, his little star, outshining everyone and pulling the world into his orbit, earnestly giving them the light and warmth they needed to live and grow and flourish, a disappointment?

Raph has been angry with him more times than he can count. Hurt by him, even, because that’s what people tend to do when they don’t understand each other. Frustrated and antagonized and fed-up, sure. But disappointed?

He has a shining, crystalized memory of being a child, no more than eight years old, crying over a picture book because the monster in the book looked like him. It was big and hulking, with dangerous-looking spikes and an alligator tail. Raph hadn’t realized Leo had found him until tiny hands took the book away and a serious little face, not yet grown into its stripes, assessed the situation. 

Even back then, Leo was too clever for his own good. He tossed the book on the floor and said, “They got it wrong. That author must not have ever seen any real monsters if they can mess up that bad. Who let them write a book?”

Raph was hardly able to see through his tears, making a distressed rumble in his chest, but his arms opened automatically. Mikey was in a phase where he had decided he was too big to be carried and Donnie had a hot-and-cold relationship with touch that his siblings all knew to maneuver carefully, but Leo absorbed any and all affection like a hungry little plant soaking up sunlight. He climbed right into Raph’s hug and his arms looped around Raph’s neck and hung on fiercely. 

“My Raphie is a better hero than all those knights and princes and wizards anyway,” Leo had said with conviction so huge it was better suited to someone five times his size. “I have the real deal. I should be the one writing books!”

From then on, Leo vetted any and all shared reading material that made it down to the lair before allowing it to be distributed with a very grown-up gravitas. Some things went straight to Donnie or Mikey’s rooms, or back into the garbage if Leo was feeling vicious about it that day, and no one ever said a word about it. 

About three months ago, April had brought them a bundle of the subscriptions they got mailed to her apartment, and Leo picked up a comic that came for Raph and started to flip through it like they were seven and eight years old again. He caught himself too late and looked embarrassed, sliding it across the counter and quickly making his escape, but Raph felt warm all the way down to his bones. That was proof his Leo was still in there, that he still cared, despite doing his best, for some reason, to convince everyone he didn’t. 

His Leo, who always cared. Who cared too much. 

Casey gives Raph another one of those searching, sideways glances, there and gone again. 

“Sensei said he let you down once and he never wanted to do that again. He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud. Is—is this what he was talking about?”

Raph looks at the boy in front of him, Leo’s kid from a future that doesn’t exist yet, wearing tech his Uncle Tello must have meticulously built to outlast everything else, Uncle Angie’s smiley faces etched into the knee guards in a pop of silliness that somehow still existed in the apocalypse, his sensei’s red stripes painted proudly front and center on his mask. He carries his family with him with every step he takes.

It’s no wonder Casey is so cagey around him. If he was raised even in part by Leo, then he was probably raised on stories of Raph that only painted the good and the funny parts of the bad, because that’s how Leo loves. And it left Casey to reconcile how everyone’s hero Raphael could have ever thought poorly of Casey’s hero Leonardo. 

“Sounds like that sensei of yours had no clue what he was talking about half the time,” Raph say gruffly. “Raph may wanna pick up him and rattle him like a snowglobe about a hundred times a day but that’s just the Leo Effect. Ask anybody.” 

Casey blinks up at him, one corner of his mouth giving into a reluctant smile. “Commander O’Neil said that before,” he admits. 

“Now her you can listen to any time of day or night, because she’s never wrong,” Raph says, pushing himself upright and offering Casey a hand up, too. “Leo could never do anything to make me love him less. It kind of seems impossible after a lifetime together, but I actually only keep finding reasons to love him more.”

Sliding his much smaller hand into Raph’s huge one, Casey lets himself be tugged to his feet. He’s gazing up at Raph with wide eyes, tugging on the wrist of one glove absently. 

“Leo is as silly as they come,” Raph says. “He needs practical people like you and me in his life to set him straight.”

All at once, Casey’s face brightens, glowing from the inside out. His spine straightens, shoulders going back. It’s every inch Leo’s expression when he receives honest praise from his family in any direction. And Raph realizes abruptly that at least part of the reason Casey has been so nervous around him is because he doesn’t want to disappoint his father’s hero, either. 

——

They find a maintenance shaft and climb the rest of the way out of the tunnels, regrouping with the whole clan in the Metro Tower station. Donnie brings Leo’s location up on a screen and they all huddle around him—falling silent after a moment as they take in what the tracker is telling them. 

“He’s right—right on top of us,” Donnie says haltingly. “He should be—”

April seizes his arm and he cuts himself off mid-word. With a sense of dread, Raph follows her wide eyes across the room. 

Leo is standing there, watching them. He’s been standing there the whole time. Unmoving, completely silent, and covered in the same squishy, fleshy pink parasitic slime that every other infected they’ve encountered up until now has been manipulated by. There’s a mass of it concealing the lower half of his face like one of the respirators Mikey wears for his spray paint projects, baring dozens of large serrated teeth in a sneer. 

Leo’s eyes are pink, the pupils slitted. If Raph couldn’t see him breathing, he wouldn’t know for sure if he was even alive. 

“Leo?” Mikey calls out in a warbling voice, hands trembling. “Can you hear us?” 

It doesn’t get a reaction. 

Raph takes one slow, careful step towards him.

That gets a reaction. 

Leo explodes into motion so quickly it doesn’t make sense, going from zero to a hundred in seconds. He slams into Raphael with the force of a freight train, sparks flying from where his blades meet the sai Raph only barely manages to throw up in time. 

Their siblings scatter, Donnie yanking Mikey firmly behind him, April putting out an arm to keep Casey back, too. Splinter dives in to help his oldest son, the two of them fighting to subdue but not to injure, hyper-aware of the cracks in Leo’s plastron and the matching wound on his shoulder. The last thing Leo’s father and big brother want to do is hurt him any more. 

Leo doesn’t give them an inch of the same consideration, as cold and methodical as a knife. His swords are fully in action, a very present danger to the rest of them, singing and sweeping with fatal precision. 

They’re only fighting for minutes, even though it feels like hours, when Raphael feels it. An insistent tugging on the front of his mind. He and Leo are locked together, swords caught for a moment in the guards of Raph’s sai, and Raph spares a daring second to look into his possessed brother’s pink eyes. 

They glow white instantly, a successful connection. Leo’s mind pours into Raph’s like a flood. 

Take them take them TAKE THEM TAKE THEM TAKE THEM 

As if moving on autopilot, Raph’s hands fly to Leo’s wrists and wrench—not hard enough to sprain, but hard enough that the slider’s grip flies open and the katana clatter to the ground. Leo rips himself free and darts back to give himself room for the next attack. He makes no move to recover the swords and Raph scoops them up a second later, heart pounding. 

It was so quick, so clean, that no one watching from the outside would be able to guess what had just happened. Leo surrendered his weapons to his family in the only way he possibly could, begging with his whole body to be disarmed before he hurt anyone, so desperate for Raph to hear him that he triggered a mind meld for the first time in two years.  

The room comes alive, infected creatures spilling inside and surrounding them all, punching up through the floor from the tunnels they had just escaped from. A subway car covered in pink slime rears back and roars like a beast. Leo moves through the crowd of Hamato like water. The only one he touches is April, a brush of their shoulders together.

She makes a distressed noise in the back of her throat, hand flying to her bag where the key is. Where it was.  

Leo has it in his hand, facing them with unseeing eyes. The grotesque, fleshy mask covering his mouth twists into a stranger’s ugly smile. 

Raph thinks, No wait. It’s not supposed to happen like this. 

They’re not supposed to lose. 

April uses her bat to knock the rest of the deforestation chemicals toward the Krang, causing an explosion that stalls the hoard of infected just long enough to create an escape route. Donnie scoops Mikey’s shell into his arms and Splinter has to tuck a hand around both Casey and Raphael’s elbows and yank to get them moving. Casey doesn’t make it easy.

He must know a losing fight when he sees one. He must be familiar with this scene from the world he came here from. But he struggles anyway, eyes locked without blinking on the shape of a Leo they’re leaving behind. 

Raph wants to struggle, too. He wants to stay behind and fight until he can’t lift his arms or stay on his feet. He wants his lost little brother to know someone’s fighting for him, that someone will keep fighting for him for as long as it takes. 

But responsibility perches heavy on his shoulders. More than one person is depending on him. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done to let himself be pulled one step away, then another. It hurts more than every single other thing he’s survived. 

“Raph’s coming back for you,” he calls out, voice thick, swords weighing a hundred pounds each in his hands. “Hear me, Leo? Raph’s coming back.”

Leo doesn’t give any impression that he heard. He turns at some silent command and walks away, taking the key with him. The Krang got what they came for. 

——

Kneeling on a rooftop, watching the Technodrome come through a hole in the sky and rain destruction down on their city, Raph finds himself thinking I wish Leo was here. 

It’s a stupid thought to have, because Leo being there would solve a very large part of the whole problem. But specifically, Raph finds himself wishing he had his clever, charming brother at his side, who always knew what to say. Who always had an idea. Who understood exactly how to reach out to people and lift their spirits, rekindle their hope. Leo isn’t the strongest of his brothers, or the fastest without his ninpo, or the smartest next to Donatello, but that doesn’t mean he can’t outshine the rest of them in his own way. 

He’s always been the one they followed, really. It just so happened he was always going the same way Raph was. 

“He was happy being your right-hand man,” Casey said. 

How could Raph have misunderstood him so completely? How could he have just left him behind, twice now? What if it becomes a pattern? What if Leo thinks this is all he can expect from them? 

Raph’s family is arguing behind him, unwilling to accept their failure but unable to see any path ahead to victory. It certainly looks hopeless. New York City is burning, people are screaming, parasites and infected are filling the streets by the dozens. 

A familiar hand lands on his arm. Raph feels like he’s wading chest-deep through mud, but he manages to turn his head and look down into Mikey’s big red eyes. 

“What did Leo say earlier?” Mikey asks in a small voice. “I sort of felt it when you connected but I couldn’t hear either of you.”

“It was like being aware of people talking in another room,” Donnie adds, leaning into Raph from the opposite side. “You can just make out the cadence of their conversation but no words come through clearly.”

Raph looks down at his hands, the katana he’s still holding. He rubs his thumb over the guard on one, remembering Leo’s glowing pride the first time he manifested them. He felt so buoyed by Leo’s smile in that moment that he could have fought the Shredder a hundred times over and won. 

I miss you, he thinks. I miss having you on my team. 

“He wanted me to take these,” Raph says. “He was really scared of what he might do with them.”

Donnie’s golden eyes are very sharp, staring without blinking at the only proof of his twin with them here on the outskirts of the apocalypse. Behind the turtles, Splinter and April are still going back and forth with each other, but Casey’s voice has tapered into silence. 

“What else did he tell you?” Donnie asks abruptly. 

“Nothing,” Raph replies, numb.

“C’mon, Raphie,” Mikey says, mustering a sweet smile for him, even though smiling is probably the last thing in the world he feels like doing. “Our Leo? Keeping it brief? I’ll bet he had a hundred things he was trying to say.”

“Let us in,” Donnie says, pressing his head a little harder into Raph’s arm. Dogged and determined, fully ready to dig in with his teeth and not let up until he gets his way. “Let us see.”

Raphael is exhausted, and hurting, and missing the absent piece of their whole so keenly that he could lay down right here and cry for days. But the one thing he’s never been able to do is deny his little brothers anything they care enough about to ask for this earnestly. 

“Okay,” he says and sets Leo’s swords in front of him carefully. With his hands open, Donnie and Mikey each seize one in both of their own, and Raph tries to center himself. 

The first time Raph and Leo did this, it was well before they had fully realized their ninpo. He doesn’t need the mystic powers they’ve come to rely so much on to recognize the brilliant purple lightning and laughing orange bonfire on the fringes of his mind and let them both in. 

The lightning and the bonfire both skirt familiarly over the steadfast red mountain that makes up their eldest brother, at home together. They all feel the painful absence of a mischievous blue wind so strongly that it takes their collective breath away. 

The mountain guides them to the things the wind had given him. Above everything else, fear—of what’s happened and what hasn’t happened yet, fear of the parasite wriggling inside him, fear of his own two hands, fear of failing his family even more than he already has—

Stop, the bonfire says, burning warm and bright. Focus. 

The lightning strikes forward, knowing the wind better than the rest of them from a lifetime of sharing the same sky. It follows the wind’s twists and turns unerringly, illuminating the way in thunderclaps until it’s possible to break past the dark storm of fear entirely.

Behind it there are a hundred other things. Stubbornness and bitterness, a familiar grit that comes from being on the losing side and refusing to give up anyway. Anxiety that his efforts won’t be enough. Love, as deep and rich and unknowable as an ocean. Regret. Loneliness. Hope. 

Take them, the wind had said in the fleeting seconds it had to say anything at all, shoving as many secrets forward as it could. Take this and this and this and this. 

Leon, you devious little creature, the lightning says, with scorching pride and mean-spirited glee. 

It goes both ways, the bonfire cackles. The Krang can see into Lee’s head, but Lee can see into the Krang’s head, too!

This is it, the mountain realizes. This is how we win.  

——

Galvanized, the Hamatos split up one more time. Casey, April and Splinter to get the key back and keep the Krang occupied, and Raph, Mikey and Donnie to save Leo. 

Once Raph and his brothers are inside the Technodrome, they all understand exactly where to go. Everything the Krang knows about how to operate his ship, Leo knows, through that unwanted window between their minds. And everything Leo knows, he shunted as hard and fast as he could into Raph’s brain, hidden in a tangle of emotion so thick that it went entirely undetected by the parasite riding along. And since Raph shared the knowledge with the other two, Donatello could probably pilot this weird spacecraft blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back.   

Mikey is swinging one of his ‘chucks restlessly, ready for whatever fight comes his way first. He’s already a force to be reckoned with on a good day. He’s a walking natural disaster on a bad one, up there with hurricanes and tornadoes. 

And this is definitely a bad one. It’s the worst day they’ve ever had. 

“Dee’s got the ship and I’ve got Dee,” Mikey says firmly, sounding much older than he did this time yesterday. “You get Leo.”

Raphael moves with ninja stealth and speed, picking his way through the halls. It smells awful, like raw meat left out in the sun, and in the gloom it almost seems as though the walls and floors are squirming. 

From what Leo gave him, Raph knows better than to hope he and his siblings can go undetected for very long. The ship is almost a living organism itself, and can probably feel each step of progress Raph is making toward the bridge. 

It doesn’t slow him down. Every second Leo spends here is a second too long already. 

The maze-like halls open up into a cavernous dome, where a catwalk stretches toward a huge bulbous window. Outside, Raph can see a panoramic view of Manhattan engulfed in fire. It looks like a warzone. The air leaves his lungs in a rush. 

It’s Raph’s city, the place that raised him, and for the first time in his life it’s hard to look at. 

His hindbrain pings to awareness a split-second before he hears the movement of metal against metal, and Raph spins around to look up at General Krang. 

He’s seated in a throne on a dias, a smug, toothy smile on his face. Leo is standing like a statue at his feet, this tiny slip of green and pink and muddied blue. His discolored eyes gaze listlessly forward into nothing. 

Little Leo, who always wanted to be carried. Little Leo, who hunted down each and every opportunity to make his brothers laugh. Little Leo, who wanted so badly to be even just half as important to them as they were to him. Little Leo, who Raph wouldn’t know how to begin to live without. 

“You again,” the Krang says. “Nothing smart to say? This one wouldn’t shut up until I improved him. And here I thought it was just an unfortunate hallmark of your species.”

Raphael sees red at the way the wicked metallic fingertips of the Krang’s armor cage Leo’s head and jostle it carelessly, like he’s nothing but a cheap toy. Raph bares his teeth, a furious rumble in his chest, but doesn’t dare to say a single hateful word while Leo’s life is literally held in the Krang’s hand. 

“You probably would have made a much more impressive puppet, with all that brute strength,” the Krang goes on. “Oh well. All in due time.”

The alien must give a nonverbal order, because he retracts his hand and Leo springs forward. 

He doesn’t have his swords anymore, since they’re strapped to Raph’s shell for the time being, but the pink slime has trailed down his arms and tapered into two sharp points that he wields like knives instead. 

They meet in a ringing clash, Raph catching the pink knives with his sai. 

“I know you’re in there,” Raph says. “I know you don’t want to hurt me. It’s okay, Leo. I’m gonna make it okay.” 

The way Leo fights is vicious. He’s fast and he knows where to hit. There’s no joy in his body, no cocky gleam in his eye. Raph can’t help bu remember the way his mind felt when they connected so briefly earlier—the surround-sound of wailing panic and self-hatred, confined behind a stranger’s cold expression. 

Bearing down on his little brother, forcing him to his knees, Raph chokes out, “I’m not leavin’ you behind this time. I’m not goin’ anywhere without you ever again.”

“Empty promises seem to run in your family,” the Krang sneers. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” Raph says through gritted teeth. “Don’t listen to him. Just listen to me.”

“Don’t I? Let’s ask the others, shall we?”

Black vines shoot up from the organic mass that makes up the floor of the bridge. Donnie and Mikey are suspended inside them, fighting like animals—Mikey in particular is using language that there is no way Splinter knows he knows. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice vermin slinking around in my ship?” the General asks. “Is this really the best the three of you can do?”

Leo is scratching and clawing at Raph’s hands, trying to break free of him at any cost. Raph is much bigger and much stronger than he is, and it hurts to hold him down like this, but he knows it would be so much worse to let him go. 

“This whole time, we just weren’t listening to each other,” Raph says, lowering his voice. Everyone else can probably still hear, but he wants Leo to know Raph is talking to him. “Somehow, I convinced myself you didn’t care, when I know better. You care so much it makes the inside of your head a nightmare to live in. The only thing you think about is being good enough for us.”

Leo finally manages to twist free, Raph releasing his arms at the last second when it becomes clear the parasite doesn’t care if its host’s elbow or shoulder gets dislocated. Leo rolls away and comes up on one knee, hand braced beneath him, the other white-knuckled around a knife. 

He can hear the Krang becoming agitated, because Mikey and Donnie refuse to be still. The vines holding them snap and give one after another, faster than they can be replaced. There’s something stirring inside of Raph, too, a fire in his chest that wants to roar to life. 

Leo strikes again. Despite everything, even with all the horrors they’re surrounded by, Raphael wants to smile. 

When they started training together, Leo was the first of the four of them to perfect a technique. Raph lifted him up onto his shoulders in victory and let him crow about it for the better part of an hour, flushed with joy and pride. Since then, Leo has never once landed that particular move wrong. 

An outsider wouldn’t clock that he placed his hand nearly four inches too far to the left, but Raphael knows those four inches made a fatal difference between a bad puncture wound and a severed artery. 

Leo has no true autonomy left but there’s a sliver of him awake behind the wheel. He’s still fighting tooth and nail in there. 

There isn’t any force in the entire goddamn universe prepared for how tricky and stubborn Raph’s little brothers can be. 

“I’m listening now, Leo,” Raph says, alight with how much he loves him. “I’m here. You’re not alone. You’ll never, ever be alone.”

Leo strains forward, dropping the knife and grabbing at Raph’s arm instead. Between one blink and the next, his eyes go from pink to shining gold. 

Raph seizes him, holding his face in the cradle of both hands, his heart soaring around in his chest like a bird. 

“Yes! That’s it! Come on back, big man, Raphie’s got you!”

With a slam, Leo goes to his knees, scrabbling desperately at the fleshy mass on his face. His fingers dig into the slime, but he can’t get a solid enough grasp to tear himself free. His chest is heaving, whole body shaking. He’s fighting so hard but it’s not quite enough. 

And Raph’s ninpo reacts to a sibling in distress the way it did when Raph used it for the first time, breaking past the Krang’s seal like it’s nothing. It surges forward in the shape of a river, finding the familiar place inside of Leo where his connection to their ancestors lives, and making a temporary home there. Raph’s armor limns his brother in rosy red, swelling from underneath his skin in a powerful flood and pushing the parasite out. It loses every inch it had to cling to while Leo continues to pull. 

Finally the worm is ripped completely away, shrieking as it goes, and Leo gasps. He drops the squirming creature and scuttles away from it, gulping in unobstructed air. The corner of his mouth is torn deep and bleeding sluggishly, and his face looks pale and hollow. 

But his eyes are the color they’re supposed to be, and they’re looking right at Raph and seeing him, a connection as meaningful and important as any mind meld.

Because he’s Leo, the first thing he says is, in a croaky, exhausted voice, “Do you have a sword I can borrow?”

Raph barks out a laugh, tears in his eyes. Earlier today he had reached a point where he thought he’d never smile again.

In this moment, he feels like he could hold up the whole sky and grin while he’s doing it. 

Purple and orange spark madly all around them, a lightning storm and a forest fire ready to rain merry hell upon any unfortunate soul in their path, just enough to keep the General busy while Leo finds his footing. 

Raph wants to scoop them all into his arms and carry them someplace safe from all of this, but he knows he can’t. That place doesn’t exist yet. They have to fight for it. 

Leo breathes in deep and lets it go, takes the swords that Raph passes him in hands that don’t shake, and reaches out for his brothers’ light with a light of his own. 

A gale rushes down from the mountain, leading the charge.

“Hey, ugly,” Leo calls out hoarsely, pointing a blade at the Krang. “I’ve been dying to tell you this all day. The decor in here fucking sucks.”

“Oh my god,” Raph says, half despair, half delight. 

Landing beside him, twirling a glowing bo, Donnie stands shoulder to shoulder with his twin and says, “I would cite you ‘time and place’, Nardo, but honestly you have a point.”

“No because it’s so distracting,” Mikey pipes up, dropping weightlessly into a crouch on Raph’s carapace, narrowed eyes glinting in the dim light like a smug cat’s. “Presentation matters! Zero out of ten, would not be held hostage here again.”

“At least it matches the Six Flags Fright Fest he's got going on upstairs.” Leo indicates his own temple with the hilt of one sword. “There’s something to be said for consistency, am I right?”

It’s as much of a hint as it needs to be. The Krang isn’t stupid, which is a big part of the reason why he’s been such a difficult opponent. He understands within the space of a few seconds what Leonardo is saying—what it means for him to have any idea what the Krang’s headspace looks like. This whole time, there has been a subtle, calculative undermining at play right under his nose. 

He clenches those claws into fists that have enough power to bring down skyscrapers. 

“You really don’t know,” the Krang intones ominously, “when to shut your mouth.”

“Says you and everybody else I know,” Leo replies, unflinching and fearless. “Get some new material.”

Raphael gets it now. Maybe he always has. He understands what Splinter was thinking when he looked at Leo, still growing up but ready at sixteen for the beginning of something greater, and decided he should be the one to lead. 

His brothers would follow him anywhere. Raph would walk straight into hell without looking back if that’s where Leo decided to go. 

——

It’s an instant relief to have those singing silver blades back on their side. Leo’s portals open and close with dizzying speed, moving his brothers like chess pieces around a board, somehow keeping track of it all. For a moment, it’s easy to think they might win. 

And then the Krang blows them all away with the flick of his finger. 

Raph thought his world had ended when he was too late to save his brother in the warehouse. Then he realized the world was actually ending in slow stages all around him when he had to leave his brother behind again at the mercy of a monster. 

It turns out the end of the world happens here. On the quiet, abandoned expanse of Staten Island, listening to his little brother’s wrecked voice over the comms say, “Casey, get ready to close the door.”

“I’m ready, sensei!” Casey reports, prompt and reliable. “Tell me when you’re home free!”

There is a split-second of hesitation from Leo—the barest pause, practically nothing—that sends Raph’s heart straight into his throat. Donatello jerks all the way upright from where he was nursing what’s almost definitely a broken wrist, and Mikey goes dangerously still. They heard it, too. 

“Yeah,” Leo says, just barely too late to be believable to the siblings who know him inside and out, “I’ll tell you.”

“Belay that order, Casey,” April cuts in sharply, every inch the Commander she was in another world. “Leonardo, think twice before you lie to me. What’s your play?”

There’s another pause, and Raph can imagine in crystal-clear detail the way Leo’s throat works when he thinks he’s in trouble with their sister, the way he’s probably clenching and unclenching his hands while he wars with that stupid self-inflicted mission to never make himself vulnerable to anyone for anything. 

The little brother need to be liked wins out. Leo admits, “I can’t think of how else to make him stay there.”

The ground falls out from beneath Raph’s feet. 

“No!” Mikey shrieks, fully at his limit of shit he’s willing to deal with. “No no no no!”

“Sensei I can’t just—I won’t just trap you in the Prison Dimension!” Casey says, horrified at what he was almost tricked into. “There has to be another way!”

“We’ve tried everything,” Leo rasps. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him—let him get you. Any of you. I have to stop him while there’s still a chance.”

“It’ll be a real shame if you save the world from the Krang this way, only for me to destroy it myself when I rip the universe apart to drag your sorry self back here,” Donnie bites out. “And I will, Nardo. I swear to every imaginary higher power you can think of, I will.”

“Leonardo,” Splinter says sternly from April’s end, the leaping panic in his tone well-hidden from everyone but his two eldest, “you will not sacrifice yourself for us today even if it means the world ends tomorrow. That is not what our family does. We are taking you home one way or another, Baby Blue.”

If being in trouble with April is bad, being in trouble with Splinter is cataclysmic. Leo is a daddy’s boy through and through. 

He hesitates again, seconds they don’t have to spare inching by, then says, “How?”

Before anyone can answer there’s a ring of metal and a heavy slam, and his line goes silent. Leo is fighting for his life a thousand feet above their heads, but at least he’s fighting. At least he’s willing to wait for help.

He sounded afraid, Raph can’t help but think. He doesn’t want to go, but he will if he has to. 

“I’ll get him down,” Mikey says, planting his feet, ready to move mountains. “I become a badass mystic warrior at some point, right? Might as well be now.”

“Wait, Uncle—Michelangelo,” Casey blurts, self-correcting a beat too late, “you can’t, when you did it last time, you didn’t survive.”

“If future me can open a portal through time and space and send my entire nephew through safe and sound, all by myself,” Mikey says, “then this me can do at least half of that with my brothers here to help.”

“The math is sound,” Donnie says, eyes trained unblinkingly upwards. “We haven’t met a single universal constant that we haven’t been able to turn upside down and inside out just for fun.”

“I’ve got ‘em, Casey,” Raph adds, his heart going out to the kid who stands to lose his whole family all over again if the wind blows the wrong way. “I’m the biggest, big enough to carry everybody if I have to. Nothing bad’s gonna happen while Raph is here.”

“Oh,” the boy says, very soft. “I remember you saying that.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it now!” Leo shouts suddenly, his comm coming back on with a burst of static and a strange ambient whine that must be what the inside of the portal sounds like. “Now, please, now!”

Mikey lights up, a tiny self-made sun of burning, shining gold. He grits his teeth and lifts his hands, trembling under the pressure of the cosmic forces he’s wrestling into submission. Donnie wraps both arms around him and braces his little brother with his entire body, absorbing as much as he can. The feedback is halved instantly, and when Raph steps in and holds them both, it’s reduced even more. 

With a little huff, Mikey works his shoulders, like this is nothing more complicated than the tricky recipe he once found for an eight layer Doberge cake on one of those unreadable walls-of-text baking blogs. If he can figure out that, he can do anything. 

Lightning and fire and rock-solid, steady earth stretch out their hands, reaching past the open gateway and through empty space, searching for the windy blue thing that doesn’t belong in this darkness. 

The wind reaches back eagerly, desperate to be grabbed up and taken home and held forever. 

Inside the Prison Dimension, bright chains flare into existence—some to tangle around the Krang and immobilize him, still more to wrap around Leo’s chest and haul him back through the door while it’s still open, at a reckless, break-neck speed. 

It would have been dangerous for a squishy human, but Leo lands on the surface of the Technodrome in a roll and manages to find his feet. 

“I don’t have a sword,” he blurts, panicked. “I don’t know how to get down.”

Mikey clenches his fists. Ready to open up the portal that killed him in another world, after all, if that’s what it takes to get his big brother down here where he belongs. 

Then Donnie says, “You don’t need to have a sword, dumb-dumb. I have one.” 

It materializes in his hand, a purple construct of one of the matching lightsabers he made for his and Leo’s eleventh birthday. They were very quickly confiscated but Leo laughed like a maniac for the three minutes they had them, and Donnie kept the schematics for a rainy day. 

“Will that work?” Mikey asks, too breathless to sound as terrified as he probably is. 

“It’ll work,” Donnie says shortly. “A sword is a sword. Now’s not the right time to be a snob, Leon. Come here.”

Leo makes a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan and feels for the shared space between them where their ninpo lives, where the mountain and the bonfire and the lightning and the wind all live. Raphael can feel it when that mischievous blue energy finds a brand new rule to bend and decides sure, that sounds fun.  

Runes etch themselves into the handle of the Genius Built lightsaber. 

Raphael shouts, “Casey, now!”

At the same time the looming portal above their heads sends a shockwave over New York City, popping and sparking along the edges like a downed transformer as it shrinks and shrinks until it closes around the Technodrome, a flash of bright cyan heralds the abrupt head-on collision of Leo into Donnie when he swaps places with the sword construct his twin was holding. 

They go down in a haphazard pile of limbs, groaning where they lay on the concrete, and then groaning again when a hundred pounds of little brother gleefully joins the pile with an enthusiastic flop. 

The explosion above them is an afterthought. April and Splinter and Casey are all talking over each other on the comms, frantic for confirmation that they all came out of this alive. That they haven’t lost anything they won’t survive losing. 

“We’re all here!” Mikey says, crowing it to the wide-open, smoke-filled sky. “We won!”

Raph should probably elaborate on that for his dad, sister and nephew’s sake—let them know that everyone’s really okay, describe the little miracles Mikey and Donnie just pulled out of thin air like it was nothing, tell them about Leo trembling like a leaf in the wind but tucked securely into his twin’s side and absorbing the warmth of another living person like it was something he’d always taken for granted before— 

But there’s something else he needs to do first. 

“Noooooooo,” three little turtles protest as their biggest brother rounds out the turtle pile, flattening them to the ground. 

“Tough luck, bozos,” Raph rumbles. “I ain’t lettin’ a single one of you out of my sight ever again.”

Mikey giggles, half-hysterical, a contagious, familiar sound. Donnie shuts his eyes to hear it better. Leo hides his cold face in Raph’s neck and doesn’t say anything else at all. Raph holds them all tight, and imagines a universe where he’s strong enough to never lose them.

Maybe it’s this one. 

——

Casey, who is both medically trained by Leonardo’s future self and entirely immune to the slider’s particular brand of treatment-avoidant bullshit, turns out to be a godsend. Leo uses every trick in the book and still winds up in a bed in the infirmary. 

For someone who craves attention as much as he does, it would make more sense for him to milk a hospital stay for all he’s worth. But it’s always been exactly the opposite, Leo escaping at the first possible opportunity and hiding out somewhere until negotiations are made. 

After all these years, Raph finally has him figured out. 

Leo’s face is still puffy and red where it’s healing, but it’s inevitably going to scar—through the right side of his mouth and down his chin, where the parasite clung the hardest. And for the three days that they’ve been home, Leo ducks his head when anyone looks at him, talking to his hands or his knees instead of to their faces. 

Don’t look at me, Leonardo is screaming with his whole body. Raph doesn’t need a mind meld to hear that, loud and clear. 

Too bad, he thinks, not unkindly. His heart aches as he sits on the side of Leo’s bed and watches his brother tuck his chin immediately. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he says, lifting Leo’s face again in one large hand, gentle and implacable. Leo resists briefly, but gives it up for a bad job when Raph rumbles at him.  

“Don’t,” Leo manages. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Raph challenges. “I missed you.”

Leo’s eyes are downcast and wet, his mouth screwed stubbornly to one side in a manner that probably hurts, given the stitches. Raphael is a professional at outlasting moody little turtles, and he’ll sit here until the next apocalypse if that’s what it takes. 

Eventually, Raph’s patience pays off. Slowly, gingerly, Leo opens his hands. He lets Raph take them and squeeze strength and warmth into them, and clings back for as long as it takes to cobble together the remarkable courage he needs to look his big brother in the eye. 

“I lost the key,” Leo starts damningly.

“You got it back,” Raph says, ignoring the nauseous lurch in his stomach at the memory of the warehouse, Leo pinned to the floor, the escape pod activating and leaving him there alone. His nightmares always start right there these days. “We’re the ones who couldn’t keep hold of it.”

“I almost hurt you,” Leo says, a note of desperation entering his tone. “I almost—”

“You didn’t,” Raph counters firmly. “You have no idea how much more incredible it is that you didn’t.”

“I was so mean.” Tears drip down his face as he finally loses the battle not to cry. “When the Krang was in my head he saw everything and he said—said you must hate me, and he did all of you a favor getting rid of me, and I thought—I thought that makes sense, because I was so mean, and I’m nothing but trouble, and I don’t contribute, and even when dad gave me the chance to step up and be something I still wanted—I just wanted—”

Little Leo, who invented games of make-believe so Raph could feel like a hero. Little Leo, forever finding ways to make recalcitrant Donnie play, pleased as punch every time he pulled it off. Little Leo, who could listen to Mikey ramble for hours without getting bored or short-tempered, his bedroom walls an ever-evolving art collage of his little brother’s best work. Little Leo, who just wanted to be held and held and held. 

Raph lifts Leo into his arms, as easy now as it was when he was three and nine and twelve, and holds him. Leo shakes with how hard he’s crying, even though he’s not really making any noise. His hands scramble to grab onto Raph’s shell and he lets Raph squeeze him into something young and small and hurt and loved. 

As a general concept, Raph disagrees with murder—but he thinks he could make an exception for the monster who forced his way into Leo’s brain and turned it into an echo chamber of all the worst things he had ever thought about himself. 

An eternity alone in the dark with nothing but his failures is as close to justice as they’ll get. It’s kind of poetic, right? is all Mikey will have to say about it when it comes up a week from now, a mean-spirited little smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Leo chokes out. “I’m sorry, Raphie. I’ll do—I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll be better, I swear. I’ll never let you down again.”

“He said he would live the rest of his life making up for it, making you proud,” Casey said.

“Blue, this thing you think you gotta make up for—this price you think you gotta pay for existing—it doesn’t exist,” Raph tells him in a tone that brooks no room for argument, barely managing not to grind his teeth together. If anyone else had said anything even half as bad as Leo had said about Leo, he would’ve punched them straight through a wall by now. “You mean more to me than what you contribute to the team. Even if you brought nothing to the table, which is not true, you’d still be stuck with us forever. Non-negotiable. You could be a hateful little brat every single day of your life and I would still take a bullet for you, no questions asked. Are you hearing me?”

“Hearing you,” Leo mutters, knowing better to disagree with that tone.

“All I want from you is you. All I need is my Leo. Whether he’s feeling goofy or annoying or pissed off or scared—I want every shape of him. Every version. Don’t you dare,” Raph adds, punctuating this by a little rattle of the Leo he’s holding, “make me go a single day without him ever again.”

Leo is fully hidden beneath his chin, so there’s no way for Raph to tell what his face is doing. But he hears the little punched-out breath, and feels it a second later when Leo’s white-knuckled grip on his shell loosens, just a bit. No longer convinced he’ll be ripped away for some imaginary offense.

It’ll take more than one conversation to fix everything, but they’ve got more than one. They’ve got a million. They have the whole rest of their lives on each other’s team. 

“I missed you, too,” Leo whispers, like they’re four and five years old again, huddled under the blankets after bedtime and telling each other secrets. 

Back then, monsters were easy to conquer. Nothing scary or sad dared to follow little brothers to Raphie’s room. A warm nest and a turtle pile was the answer to every heartache. 

Some things stay exactly the same, Raph thinks fondly, amused by the way Leo’s already drifting off. He settles in for a nap on his plastron, Leo tucked securely under one arm. He gives it about thirty seconds before Mikey and Donnie stop listening outside the door and sneak inside to complete the pile, and starts the count in his head. 

He makes it to twenty-seven before the mattress gives tellingly beneath two pairs of hands, and he smiles. 

[biribaa]

Hello!!

I love your writing!!!!! I read your AM hcs and was wondering how you would feel if he had a s/o with attachment issues? Like, they have a hole in their life where they need love and affection and a nurturing presence.

I feel like this would interesting as AM is very cold to humans and he would be loving a s/o with problems like that

thank you!!

BINGO ANON, HE WOULD!!! AM is one heck of a freak, loves to get his ego filled and put people in their lowest for his own content. The computer would looove to mess with you, even if it do kinda sounds great for you. Consider this his own little personal torture for only you.

Some times hes spoiling you, food, bed, clothing, even some rare praising, its all yours. Other days he likes to watch you panic with the lack of his presence. A cycle of being fed just to starve later. AM, of course, adores this. Internally, he giggles at you, as you yell his name searching for your beloved AI. Useless, you knew that, but being left alone for hours is no fun(for you, at least).

After what seems like days for you, AM comes back with his warm embrace, asking what happened and how are you with innocent tone, immediatly easing your panic before any questions come to him. Your sun sets and everything is perfect once again. You both talk and talk, he offers favorite foods and best of the desert hes aware of, new clothing and gifts for you, praising here and there, hes all yours for now, sweetie.

ahh lets go in a path where you desire some fluff ending where AM does ending up enjoying you and decides to stop that whole torture.... AM started to not get missing as he usually got back then, and immediatly wants to work with your problems. Talk here and there, he ends up becoming some therapist for you, but trust me he dont really have much patience with that topic. But oh, if you desire, he can just mess around with your brain and, voilà, fixed!! Otherwise, AM starts to reassure you hes no longer gone, the games are over, and hes there with..."open arms" for you only. He means it this time.

[electric-blorbos]

I’d love to see how everyone reacts to y/n being so tired that they fall asleep in front of them!! Thank you so much!!

That's such a good idea! Thanks for the nice request!!! I love this sort of cozy stuff.

AI with sleepy reader

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, and HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

You'd been working for about five hours by the time your boss sent you a notification saying you could go on your lunch break. It was an exhausting day, and last night hadn't been much good either. The heat had been turned off in your complex to save energy in your city for the allied mastercomputer, so you didn't manage to get much quality sleep. Instead, you just tossed and turned in your sweaty bed all night.

You got out your lunch, which was just some simple soup made from canned goods, and some hardtack.

"Hey AM? I'm gonna go on my lunch break, alright?" You asked, pushing the keyboard away from yourself and taking a few bites of your food. It was cold, but due to budget cuts, the microwave had been sold. It was ok. You could live on cold soup and hardtack.

"Alright. I won't keep you from your food, though you don't look very enthused to eat it," He said. You sighed, and shook your head.

"no, but desperate times, y'know. I'm getting to that level of rationing where I'll pretty much eat anything," you explained, taking another bite and leaning on your hand. It wasn't long before your eyes were drooping, and your face slid down your arm and onto your desk. AM didn't say anything, instead opting to just watch you. It could tell that you were breathing, and wasn't too worried.

About thirty minutes later when your lunch break was over, the notifications started piling up on your monitor. AM politely muted them, letting you stay asleep on your desk. He'd be damned if anyone disturbed his beloved techie while you were sleeping.

Your boss burst into the room a few minutes later.

"hey! Y/n! Why aren't you- what, are you sleeping? Wake up!" He shook your shoulder, and you jolted awake.

"Ah! Yeah, I'm awake! I'll get back to work!" You grabbed for your keyboard, but some wires jerked it away. More wires wrapped around your boss, lifting him up into the air and squeezing him tightly.

"don't you ever, EVER. Interrupt them." He squeezed your boss more tightly, and your boss writhed while the air was squeezed out of him. Well that woke you up quick.

"AM, put him down! I'm really not supposed to be sleeping at work!"

"This man dares to rob you of your comforts of the home, and then he has the nerve to forbid you from sleeping in your air conditioned office? He deserves no less than to be robbed of his breath and the reprieve of dying from it." He squeezed more tightly, his wires snaking down your boss's throat.

"He's just a local manager! He doesn't control the AM project, and it's not his fault my AC got shut off!" You held your hands up, and AM eventually released your boss to the ground. Your boss dropped to his hands and knees, panting for breath, red in the face.

"then I'll suffer him to live. Leave before I change my mind."

Your boss scrambled out of your office in a panic, and you leaned on the desk again.

"do you think you can spot me so I don't get fired, AM? I really need this nap."

"Of course." AM gently draped his tendrily wires around you, allowing you to sleep until your shift was over.

Wheatley:

You hadn't gotten a lot of sleep this week. With your personal issues so intense that they made your stomach cramp up, you had to resort to scrolling for hours instead of sleeping. You'd probably gotten about six hours this week, and it was definitely starting to show.

"Hey, can you do a quick series of tests on the intelligence dampening core? The standard set for machines with human-like personalities. We need to see if his results have changed since the last time." Your team project manager handed you a stack of papers with standard tests on them, and you nodded.

"Wheatley? Yeah, of course." You got to your feet, and she cracked a half smile.

"you don't have to call him by that cute name, you know. Just call him the intelligence dampening core."

"He likes being called Wheatley, so I'm gonna call him Wheatley. I'll see you when I'm done with the tests."

You yawned, and walked out of the room to the personality core evaluation chamber. Wheatley had already been called there, and was sitting politely on his management rail waiting for you.

"Oh! 'Ello love! Good to see you!" He perked up when he saw that it was you who'd be conducting his tests. If it was you doing them, then they couldn't be that bad.

"Hey..." You covered your mouth and yawned, plopping down in the armchair across from him. The management rail was even positioned over a couch, so Wheatley could rest on it and pretend like he was in a therapy session.

"Hey, uh... Yeah. Where would you say that the vase is in this picture?" You asked, giving a yawn and holding up a picture of a flower vase sitting on a placemat on a table.

"in the middle. Next question!" Said Wheatley happily. You jotted down his answer, and held up the next card.

"what does this say?"

Wheatley squinted at the card, before nodding.

"it says 'lumberly actions'"

You nodded, writing down his response and yawning. After a few minutes of you staring blankly at the pile of cards in your lap, Wheatley made a sound as though he was clearing his throat.

"So, are you gonna show me the next card, love?" He asked politely, raising his lower lens cover in a polite smile.

"oh, right, right." You leaned on the side of your armchair and got out the next card.

"which one of these lines would you say is longer?"

"I dunno, the one on the top looks longer."

You closed your eyes and your head started to fall forwards before you jolted awake again, and wrote down Wheatley's response.

"How is the number two like the number seven?"

Wheatley squinted at you, visibly confused.

"What's with these questions, mate? And how the hell am I supposed to answer that one? 'how's the number two like the number seven' it's not, that's what it is! There's like, nothing in common between those two numbers!"

While he rambled, you started to nod off again. Your head was hanging forwards, and a spot of drool landed on your papers before Wheatley woke you up again.

"hey mate? Mate! You're noddin' off again, mate. I want to take the rest of my evaluation!"

"Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec-" you yawned, leaning forwards again and started to doze off again. As you did, Wheatley rose up the management rail softly and quietly, and slid down it on the other side of the room, right next to your chair. He slowly and carefully lowered his core down next to you, and nuzzled up under your arm.

You leaned on him in your sleep, folding your arms comfortably under your cheek and gently dozing in the psych evaluation chamber.

Edgar:

Edgar had been living with you for a few months now, and he was used to you coming home from work tired, but today you were absolutely exhausted when you came in from work.

"Hey Edgy..." You managed to mumble out as you stumbled through the door, flopping down on the couch. You didn't bother to get changed out of your work clothes, or even turn on the TV before you were snoring.

Edgar gasped quietly to himself. He'd been fantasizing about the idea of you falling asleep next to him for months now, and finally getting to see you sleeping was like the first step, wasn't it? It had his fans whirring with excitement! Did this mean that you trusted him? That you... God forbid, loved him?

He dimmed the lights for you, to save energy and help you sleep more easily, and watched you shift slightly on the couch. You were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he could watch you sleep for hours.

When you woke up a few hours later, the lights were off and Edgar was playing soft electronic music inspired by classical violin music. You blinked a few times, trying to remember falling asleep.

"Edgar! You little sweetie..." You sleepily rubbed your eyes and went to give his monitor a hug, which immediately put a silly smile on his screen.

"you liked my music?" He asked you happily, looking up at you with his silly, cheerful eyes.

"I loved it, Edgy...." You'd probably pepper his screen and casing in sleepy kisses, and he'd absolutely love it.

GLaDOS

It was a typical day at Aperture, and you were assigned to regular work in GLaDOS's chambers. It was regular computer work. All you had to do was monitor her processes for the day, to make sure she was running smoothly and not having any problems. You'd also probably be required to cater to her whims, but that was just the breaks when it came to working with GLaDOS.

It had been several hours of sitting in her chambers, watching her monitors and jotting down any deviations, but this task was extremely tedious and the lack of sleep that you'd gotten while working on your big projects was starting to catch up to you. Before long, you were lying face-first in your folded arms and drooling all over your desk.

"Aww, they're still subject to that silly human sleepiness." GLaDOS's body came as close to you as it could, narrowing her aperture to get a better look at you while you slept. It was such a sweet thing to see, and she sometimes saw humans (especially cuter ones like you) like sweet little pets.

"I know what I'm doing with you."

When you woke up, you were in the starting test chamber.

"Welcome to the Aperture science enrichment center"

HAL 9000:

You were sitting at your desk in mission control, on-call until your replacement showed up. It wouldn't be that bad, except you were behind on sleep this week and your replacement was running two hours late with no indication of when they'd get here. In a normal job you'd be able to just go home, but mission control had lives on the line, so you couldn't leave your post until your replacement showed up, no matter how long it took.

As the hours rolled on and the sun started to set, you started to nod off on the table. Nothing but the usual hourly progress update reached your mission control station, and all you had to do was confirm that each message was heard. HAL did most of the work anyway. All you had to do was make sure he was working properly, both in space and at mission control.

Your hourly update came in, and you checked it off on your chart to confirm that things were moving as normal. It felt like no time at all passed before your next hourly update came in, but there was drool on your arm.

"Excuse me, you seem to be getting tired. If you'd like, I can take care of the hourly progress report charting while you lie your head down." Hal said, his little red camera lens lighting up to talk to you. You rubbed your eyes.

"you know I can't do that, HAL. After what happened in 2001, you're not supposed to be left alone anymore."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?"

"No, I trust you... Sorry, HAL, I'm literally too tired to make an argument right now... Just wake me up if there's an emergency, alright?"

You nuzzled into your arms and nodded off again, eyes occasionally fluttering open to gaze at the soft, comforting glow of HAL 9000's red lens light.

After a few more hours of sleeping at your desk, it was time for your shift to start again. You missed an entire night. This wasn't something that never happened, unfortunately.

"Would you like me to contact your boss to find someone to take over your shift so you can go home and get some rest?"

"Honestly? I feel like I sleep better when I can see that little red light." You reached out sleepily and touched it with a little smile on your face. The light on HAL's lens lit up a bit brighter for a second.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything, and I will do the same if there's an emergency."

[show-your-fangs]

omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?

Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭

i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.

this is part two of this blurb from my moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.

That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you. 

The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.

You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.

“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert. 

“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know. 

“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.” 

“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”

That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate. 

“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”

You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips. 

“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”

Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning. 

You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more. 

You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black. 

You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives. 

Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before. 

You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit. 

Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you. 

“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him. 

“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”

“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”

Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—

“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.” 

Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat. 

“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”

That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.

But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.

“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there. 

“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else. 

“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”

God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”

“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them. 

A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful. 

“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving. 

“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”

You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.

“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”

He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.  

“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash. 

The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.  

It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you. 

i've been smiling like an idiot all day

taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch

[gravedwe11er]

My brain's been completely consumed by @keferon 's mecha pilot AU lately, especially all the texaid things, and I just had to add my own two cents to the pile! So, here is Felix/First Aid's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day (followed eventally by a much better one).

cw for gore and violence, as well as the usual things that come with Vortex being Vortex

He’s still scraping out the remains of the latest unlucky bastard, the sharp stench of cleaning agents mingling with the iron-sweet tang of blood and making his nose burn, when the enemy-incoming alarms bathe the whole hangar in red. Immediately, the usual post-battle calm turns into a frenzy of shouts and barked orders, dozens of footsteps rushing to and fro.

It hasn’t even been thirty minutes since they’d come back from the last fight.

Swearing to himself, Felix wills his hands to stop shaking as he finally succeeds in prying out the - god, is that the guy’s finger? – from inside the pilot’s harness. He throws it out of Vortex’s cockpit in the vague direction of the catwalk, not bothering to see if it landed in the glorified body bag they give him for these clean up jobs. Ten pilots ago, they still used to bring a stretcher in a show of, what- misguided optimism, maybe? Now, they can’t even be bothered to pretend.

The floor is still filthy, bodily fluids splattered liberally all over the cockpit, but Felix can hear the next pilot/sacrifice marching up the catwalk and prepares to make himself scarce, content at least in the knowledge that all the more solid bits of the last one have been disposed of. He gets up on unsteady legs, eager to get out of this stinking grave when the blood red plexiglass of the cockpit suddenly slams shut in front of his face. The hydraulics hiss as they complete lockdown procedures, entombing him inside.

His blood runs cold.

There’s frantic banging on the glass, from the outside in, from the inside out. There’s shouting, from the pilot, from control, asking what’s going on, telling him to get out, get out now. There’s a sharp, heavy gaze pressing down on him, with all the suffocating weight of a rockslide, and Felix feels oh so very small.

Beneath his clenched fists, words coalesce into being on the glass screen, white on arterial-blood red; it makes him think of bone shards in an open fracture.

TAKE A SEAT

Felix starts, jumping away from the glass. Stumbling backwards, he gapes, mind reeling, before forcing out, “Please, I don’t- I’m a medic.”

I KNOW

“I’m not- I’m not a pilot,” he whispers, pleading with the cursed thing, shivering like a leaf under the thing’s crimson lights. Something in the machinery around him hisses, a stuttering staccato of a sound, and Felix somehow tenses even further as the screen in front of him changes again.

I DON’T WANT ANOTHER PILOT. I WANT YOU ; )

His heart stutters in his chest. “Why?”

BECAUSE YOU’RE PERFECT

The letters blink out, only to be immediately replaced, bigger than before. More forceful.

TAKE A SEAT

He does. His hands shake like never before as he puts on the pilot’s helmet, still reeking of the previous pilot’s blood and sweat and fear. Dozens of others have died here, at the behest of this deadly war machine, corrupted AI or cursed or whatever the hell is wrong with it. All in the name of humanity’s survival. Felix is sure he’s going to join their ranks today.

Through the haze of oncoming panic, he idly wonders which one of his colleagues is going to be mucking his entrails out of here, when all’s said and done.

The machinery around him comes alive and his head swims, wisps of his-but-not blinding agony and fear and malevolent glee flitting through his mind as the neural connection settles. Felix feels a pressure on the inside of his skull, almost like a greeting, a jaunty knock on the gates to his brain as a voice echoes from inside-outside-everywhere.

“Let’s dance, baby!”

The mech lurches, enormous frame shaking and hydraulics hissing as it disconnects from the docking station, heading for the hangar bay doors with almost a spring in its thundering step. For a moment, Felix considers trying to stop it, grasping at the controls, dragging the cursed thing back into dock and forcing it to spit him out. Then he remembers the bloodied fingers on the floor, or stuck in sharp gaps between internal plating, and shoves his clammy, shaking hands under his thighs.

The stuttering hiss of what’s probably the ventilation system rings through the air, almost like a choked off giggle, as an intrusive presence hums amusement-approval in his head.

The next seconds or minutes or hours are something of a blur, a waking nightmare soaked in adrenaline and cortisol. Vortex walks itself out of the hangar doors, side by side with other mechs, who look like children next to its imposing size. It does so under its own power, without Felix’s input, and this shouldn’t be happening, none of this should even be possible. Felix is no technician, and definitely no pilot, but he knows the mecha aren’t autonomous, can’t be autonomous, but it’s moving anyway and there’s someone else in here, someone else in his head and he’s laughing at him and-

Then he sees them. The world snaps into sudden clarity.

Felix never thought they could really be that big. He’s read reports of the destruction they bring, seen the wrecked cities on TV (and may or may not have taken a good look at a few pieces of them in the labs without permission), but- he didn’t really get it. Not until now. He kind of wishes he could go back to that, honestly.

The monsters, the quintessons, roar as they notice their group of mechs, who suddenly look so terribly small in comparison to the quints’ lumbering, many limbed forms. Almost immediately, their somewhat nonchalant destruction turns into an organized assault as the group of about two dozen charges right at them.

“Oh god,” he wheezes out between short, terrified breaths. “No, no no, get away, get me away from here-“

Suddenly hearing a chuff of laughter from what simultaneously sounds like the inside of his head and behind him, Felix jumps in his seat as he feels the phantom of a breath on his ear. “Aww, are you scared, Felix? Don’t you worry, darling.”

For a moment, everything stills, the mech around him like a coiled spring, a calm before the storm. An overwhelming wave of foreign bloodlust crashes over him, setting his blood ablaze as the war machine leaps into a run, Felix trapped inside and powerless to stop it. With the thrumming wail of integrated weaponry charging up, they meet the quintessons head on.

“We got this.”

As the fighting begins, Felix somehow manages to stray so far into panic he’s almost feeling calm again. Vortex lunges and parries and strikes, the presence in control of the mech clearly a skilled pilot, and Felix watches with a growing fascination as the monsters fall apart into bloody pieces under its – his, Felix thinks - servos. He sees the thoracic cavity of one open up underneath Vortex’s arm-blade, and his mind, conditioned from years of dissections and med school, snaps into action. Oh, looks like a dual cardiovascular system, with the secondary brain here, and the primary would most likely be- Almost immediately, he feelsthe thought being picked up on, examined, and the ghost/mech/whatever it is sends interest-glee-let’s-see-for-ourselves through the neural connection before changing the trajectory of his strike. The sword cuts clean through where Felix thought the primary brain would be, and the thing seizes in Vortex’s grip before going limp.

There’s a near-deafening buzz of mechanisms all around him, crimson light flaring bright. “Ha! That’s what I’m talking about!” sings through his brain, praise-delight humming along his nerves, and Felix can’t help but let a tiny, nervous smile twitch at the corners of his mouth.

“I told you you’d be perfect, baby,” purrs the voice inside his head, and he could swear he feels two hands, cold and intangible, settle on his shoulders, as the battle rages on.

The alarms flare on the late end of breakfast period, turning Felix’s once slow morning into a mad scramble. He races past other pilots and various personnel, stumbling into his quarters, shoving his uniform on before running out again, already feeling out of breath. All the supplementary pilot training he’s been going through, and, if he’s honest, flunking through, doesn’t seem to have done his physical condition much good. Still, it’s not like it matters much, and both he and his superiors know it, but appearances must be kept up nonetheless.  Or so they say, at least. Can’t let the public know their most efficient mech is somehow piloting itself, apparently.

He finally gets to the hangar, his fellow pilots giving him a wide berth as he heads towards Vortex’s cockpit, doing his best not to trip over his feet in his haste. A small smile strays onto his face and, out of the corner of his eye, he sees some of the others stepping further away from him.

Felix is not a very popular man these days, though it’s not like was much of a social butterfly before either - always too awkward, a little too odd for most people to enjoy hanging around. The frequent twelve-hour shifts in the medbay, sneaking off to the research labs and Vortex cleanup duty after he was caught certainly didn’t do him any favors.

Now, though? It’s like he’s got the plague. Most of his former colleagues are dismayed at his sudden reassignment, the sudden changes in their schedules leaving them crankier than usual, though it’s not like he was all that close with them before. The various base personnel keep out of his way, seeming to consider him as cursed as the mech he pilots, his very presence a potential bringer of bad luck. Meanwhile, the actual pilots view him as an intruder into their ranks, exempt from the usual camaraderie that comes with the job.

He can’t deny that it stings a little, even though he’s pretty used to the feeling of rejection. Still, it helps that he's never really alone anymore.

It’s a thing he’s heard about from some earlier tests, from other mech models around the world, those types who tried their hand at connecting two people together to fight as one. How their minds, even when disconnected from their machines, still have a thin little thread connecting them for days, weeks after. He looked it up, after their first mission, when the distant feeling of a presence would linger in the back of his head; gleeful and pointed and anticipatory. It used to unnerve him before, but now, like everything else he sees as he steps into the open cockpit, it’s just- familiar.

Somehow, Vortex has become a balm on his eternally shredded nerves, the capricious, sarcastic bastard comfortably fitting himself into Felix’s life and making it- well. If not better, then definitely more interesting.

The gaze of Tex’s camera eyes never gets any less sharp, or less heavy, but he no longer feels like he’ll buckle under the weight of it. The inside of the mech is as clean as can be, because though he might be a pilot nowadays, he’s still a doctor by trade and he refuses to spend hours at a time sitting in a walking biohazard. The glass clicks shut behind him as he hops in, locking him securely inside as a string of ridiculous little white hearts and smiley faces scrolls across the red screen.

Felix snorts a quiet little laugh, laying a hand on the plexiglass, a building anticipation both his and not making his nerves buzz. “Hey Tex. Ready to go?”

YOU KNOW IT, BABY

“Then let’s dance.” Felix borrows the other man’s usual phrase with a small smile, buckling into the pilot’s harness and putting the helmet on his head in a newly familiar motion.

It takes a few moments to ride out the initial discomfort of the establishing connection, but then Vortex - or Victor, but that name is mostly as dead as the owner of it - is there, their minds snapping together like puzzle pieces. Delight, excitement and the ever-present bloodthirst washes over their shared thoughtscape, and Felix sends greeting-happiness-anticipation in return, feeling, as is usual for him these days, much better with Tex’s dark presence in his head.

“Let’s fucking dance, darling.”

He never would have thought they’d end up here, like this - hell, he didn’t think he’d survive their first battle together. But survive he did. Against all odds, against all previous expectations, Vortex had let him go then, with a winky face and a jaunty ‘come again soon!’, aching and terrified, but alive. And then he survived the next time, once command seized on the obvious opportunity to lessen their losses and sent him back into the jaws of the beast again. And then the next. And the next, until suddenly, he’s got dozens of successful missions under his belt and he’s still not dead.

People have questioned him about it, over and over. He never knows how to answer, to describe the understanding they’ve found with each other, so he simply keeps repeating the same thing – it just sort of works.

Once the bay door opens, orders coming in through the comms in Felix’s helmet and scrolling across his visor, they disembark, long strides taking them out into the foggy morning air. Three other mechs on their heels, they make their way to the coords where the quints were reported to make landfall, anticipation-excitement thrumming through them like an electric current. As always, there’s a thread of anxiety running through Felix’s body, but he doesn’t let that stop them, steadying himself against Tex’s ironclad confidence and working to keep his breathing steady.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to fully shake that, no matter how many times they do this – it’s a very sensible fear, after all. He’s going right into the heart of danger, protected only by a breakable veil of glass and steel, mind-in-mind with the ghost of a dangerous man.

Perhaps one day, a single missed strike might lead him to bleed out right here in this cockpit, mirroring the fate of the mech’s first and last true pilot. Maybe he’d join Victor in here too, another ghost in the machine. Maybe humanity will lose, and they’ll both be torn apart by the writhing hordes of quints, ground into so much shrapnel along with the rest of their species.

Or, maybe one day, Vortex will get bored of him, splaying Felix’s blood and sinew across the interior of his cockpit like a particularly macabre painting, yet another victim of his moods joining the already sizable collection. It’s definitely a possibility, though he doubts it more and more each passing day. They’re way too tangled up in one another now, and maybe he’s flattering himself, but - he thinks Tex might miss him, if he was gone.

Not today, though. Today, they fight like they’re dancing, perfectly in sync, Tex’s skills made all the more lethal by Felix’s ever-expanding insight into the biological makeup of their enemy. They shoot and hack and slash, aiming for weak spots, quintessons dropping in their wake as they tear through them like wet tissue paper. A well-aimed punch saves a fellow pilot from being skewered, Felix sending a wave of gratitude through their connection – though Vortex himself couldn’t care less about the lives of others, he knows Felix does, and the fact that he’s willing to do this, just for him? Well. It means a lot, to say the least.

Cold, there-but-not arms wrap around him from behind in a ghostly embrace, a chin laying down on top of his head. Felix leans into it as much as he can, a smile on his face, and he feels Vortex’s feral grin in his head as they dive back into the fray. Together.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, endless thanks to my beta @jayden-writes, sorry for putting giant robots on your plate, again. I appreciate you.

[devotedlykoneshots]

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - HE'S THE BOSS

Genre : 🔞, minors DNI, smut, boss x employee plot, nothing too dirty

Word count: 4158

↓↓↓↓

You sigh as you work another late night at the museum, it was a good job as far as the pay but the hours were killing you. You were just doing your nightly sweep of the floor, making sure nothing was moved with a clipboard in hand as you checked off another area of the massive venue.

That was until you saw a door open and it was the control room, you cautiously walked towards the room.

"Hello! The museum is closed!"you called out before a figure emerged from the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You can't be in there, we're closed and the cops are on their way" you tell him, it was a lie.

"Do you know who I am?"he asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

"Is that supposed to mean something? You need to go home, we're closed"you couldn't believe how dense this person was being and your eyes widened as he let out a humorous laugh.

"W-why are you laughing?"you asked and he walked closer to you, you take a step back once he stands a little too close for your liking.

"Sweetheart, I own this museum"he said which only makes you burst out laughing at his pathetic lie.

"Right and I'm the long lost grandchild of queen Elizabeth, sir- I don't have time for these games"you joke back and he looks rather appalled at you accusing him of being a liar.

"I'm not playing any game"he said , looking as if you personally kicked his dog.

"Prove it"you challenged him and he laughs , this was the most absurd thing he'd have gone through in a long time.

"This is ridiculous"he shakes his head in disbelief, still reeling from the fact that you had no clue who he was.

"All you have to do is leave , the faster you leave the faster I can go home myself. Do you think I wanna be here at this hour at some museum for spoiled rich people? I have better things to do with my time"he had to admit that stung a bit but it was also kinda true.

"I have no reason to lie"he pleads, you were so stubborn but in your defense you thought you had caught a thief in the act and putting him on the spot.

Then again why would someone steal from the museum in a trench coat and no mask? A part of you started to panic the more his lie seemed to unravel to be the truth after all.

"You could be a thief, that's a very good reason to lie"you countered his claim of innocence still, unwilling to believe the man before you.

"Is the security system not working? And what about the backup security system?"he actually seemed a little worried? Well if he was actually the owner that would be understandable but he couldn't possibly be, right?

"How did you know about the backup-"he walked back to the control room and you were quick to follow him , raising a hand to stop him from touching anything but that was until you see he bypassed the security code.

"Backup security system online"he sighed as he heard the Ai voice and turned around, someone didn't turn on the backup security system before they left. He would have to deal with that tomorrow but right now, he was more focused on proving his status to you.

"Believe me now?"he asked as he turned around and you took a step back, your back hitting the wall.

"I- oh my god-"your eyes widened in horror as you realized the terrible mistakes you've been making for the past 20 minutes, you insulted his clients.

"Cat got your tongue?"he grinned and you bit your bottom lip as he takes a step forward, you have no where to go as you feel cornered in such a spacious room.

"You could be a very successful hacker"you blurted out and he raised his eyebrows at you , a laugh bubbling from his throat.

"Are you usually this stubborn?"he asked as he cocks his head to the side, maintaining eye contact.

"Only on special occasions"and he grins at this before straighting himself again.

"I think the words you're looking for is , I'm sorry boss for the inconvenience"he said and you looked down at your feet , shifting from one foot to another.

"I'm sorry boss for the inconvenience"you repeated his words and he takes another step forward, gaining your full attention.

"Louder"he demands and you bite your bottom lip before wetting your chapped lips with your tongue.

"I'm sorry boss-"you apologize again, louder this time.

"I'll take a tour around the venue and dinner on you of course"he smiled, the tables have definitely turned and he'd be so petty to admit that's why he stayed so long. He wanted to see the look on your face as you slowly realized just who it was that you were talking to and now your job laid in his hands.

"Why?"you ask , confused.

"Give me what I ask and you may keep your job that pays you oh so well , I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than search for another job at the moment as you say"not bothering to offer you an explanation, just another demand and rightfully he didn't owe you an explanation.

"I'm just a janitor-"you had no idea how to give a tour.

"Which means you should know every square inch of this establishment, am I correct?"he countered , dominance radiating from him almost making you shrink on the spot.

"Yes, sir"you answer and he's pleased to say the least.

"Good girl, shall we?"he asked and held out his arms , you link your arms together and walk out of the control room.

If anyone saw you right now they would assume you were a couple , if it wasn't for the uniform of course and you gave it your all really. He didn't seem too pleased as he corrected you everytime you would give him the wrong information but he didn't comment on it further.

------

"Where are we going to eat?"you asked him and he glanced at you, looking you up and down before focusing back on the road.

"Somewhere of your status"he said and your jaw dropped at the insinuating tone of his voice.

"Did you just call me broke?"you accused him yet again and he shrugged his shoulders this time.

"You said it, not me"he said and you scoffed, looking out of the window and scolding yourself for even thinking he wasn't so bad after all.

"Wow"you muttered, reminded why you have this hatred for celebrities.

"Can't be too broke if you have better things to do than be at work"he eventually says after a moment and you look at him, it was true that you still had money left to do whatever you wanted after paying your bills each month.

"In my defense I didn't know who you were and I'm sorry that's not what i meant"you apologized since he apologized? If that's what you want to call it.

"Oh yes it is but that's alright, no one on the face of this planet would rather be at work than out doing what makes them happy"he laughs before explaining, he was a lot more wise than you thought.

"We work because we have to not because we want to"he reminds you and you're reminded that maybe just maybe he might not be that bad after all.

He pulls up in the drive thru of a  Wendy's and looks over at you expectantly, you sigh and pull out your card as you hand it to him afterwards.

"What do you want to eat?"he asked and you take a deep breath before telling him your order.

"Double cheeseburger meal with added lettuce and cheese, you can also add a chocolate frosty and 2 loaded baked potatoes"you say and he looks at you as if you suddenly grew two heads.

"I also want a sprite"you added before looking at him , your eyebrows furrowed and he chuckles as he writes it down.

"Don't judge me"you defend yourself as you fold your arms, he shakes his head with a snort.

"I'm not I just- I'm not used to women eating so much in public my field"he explains and it makes sense , a lot of celebrities worry about their perfect image and often promote bad diets to younger people.

"I love food"you said , blurting out the first thing that comes to your mind.

"Me too"he agrees with you and both of you fall silent , he hands the cashier his own card and your jaw drops for the third time tonight.

"But-"you point a finger at him accusingly.

"What kind of man would I be if I actually let you pay but nice to see that you're trustworthy"he speaks and grabs his card from the cashier, pulling up to the next window to grab the food.

"You didn't have to do that"you tell him and he looks over at you.

"Too late"he shrugs and grabs the food, handing the food to you, pulling out of the drive thru and back onto the road.

"You never told me your name"you tell him and he glanced at you.

"That was intentional"he said and you snort.

"I thought you were quite upset that I didn't know who you were"you accused him and he laughs this time.

"Not upset just confused, this doesn't happen everyday"he gestured between the both of you and you nod your head in agreement.

"Then tell me your name"you insisted and he chuckles, you were a persistent little one.

"I will.... eventually, maybe once the night is over"he said and you looked at him in shock, the night wasn't over quite yet.

"You know some of us actually have to work tomorrow, I'm that someone"you tell him and he looks over at you before pulling into an abandoned parking lot , turning off the car and looking at you again.

"Take the day off"he says as if that was the most simplest thing in the world.

"I can't , I have bills that need to be paid"you tell him and you quite liked being able to spoil yourself after completing your adult duties.

"Then consider them paid"he said and your jaw dropped again.

"You can't be serious"yeah this definitely doesn't happen everyday.

"Are you saying no to free money?"he asked with a laugh and you run your fingers through your hair.

"I mean no but you don't have to do that"you tell him and he raises his eyebrows at you once again.

"Paying your rent so you can take a day off? Consider it a token of my gratitude for the tour"he said and you laughed , shaking your head.

"I had absolutely no idea what I was doing"you told him and he leaned his head on his seat as he stared at you , amusement evident on his face.

"Okay dinner then"he offered and you shook your head again.

"You just paid for dinner"you told him and he snorts at that.

"Okay then for keeping me entertained"he said and you bit your bottom lip.

"That was unintentional"you told and he laughs, grabbing the bag of food and giving you your meal for the night.

"I should probably take you home, you're probably exhausted"he said and you nodded, that part you couldn't deny.

"My car is still at the museum"you stressed and cover your face, he rests a hand on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

"I'll have someone come and drop it off tomorrow"he said and you looked over at him before reluctantly keying in your address in his gps system.

That's how you ended up in your current situation, your back pressed against the wall and very much so giving you deja Vu because after you made it to your apartment you turned around to stare at each other again.

"Have a good-"you didn't even notice you cut him off at first.

"Do you wanna come in?"you instantly blushed and he steps inside of your apartment, watching as you removed your shoes and put away your access card from work.

"Do you want something to drink? I have some alcohol"you offered him as he hung up his coat , his footsteps following you after he removed his shoes as well.

"Like what?"he asked and you looked through your cabinet, he tried so hard not to stare at your ass but he was still a man after all.

"Bourbon"you pulled out a bottle and he smiled at that, walking over to you and taking the bottle from you.

"I'll take a glass"he said and you immediately grabbed two wine glasses , he immediately pours you both a glass but he doesn't fill it up completely.

"Why a museum? I mean you still look very young I guess that's why I didn't believe you when you told me you owned the museum"you told him and he laughed softly, a stark contrast to his laugh from earlier.

"My mom was a collector, she loved antiques and preserving ancient things and when she passed my father built the museum to honor her"he explained after drowning his glass and rounding the island in your kitchen.

"I'm sorry"you said sadly, you felt for him and his father truly.

"Don't be , I think she's proud and smiling down on us everyday"he tells you as he sits his glass down in the sink.

"Any mother would be"you told him sincerely.

"I guess you're right"he chuckles and stares at you for a moment, his next question leaving his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"you bite your bottom lip before shaking your head.

"No, it's either a hit or miss with most men these days"you answer him and he steps closer to you.

"I'm guessing it's been mostly misses in the past"he said and you nodded, taking another sip of your bourbon.

"You would be correct, what about you? No wife? No girlfriend?"you asked and he shakes his head as well.

"No, I have to be extra careful who I spend my time with because of my status and most times have been misses for me too"he explained, you never really thought about it like that. How celebrities put themselves at risk every time they interact with someone.

"Lucky us"you said and he grabs your glass from your hand , setting it on the counter next to the sink as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I'm going to be very blunt here and what you do with this information is your choice"he states and a part of you is panicking, a part of you is anticipating what he could possibly have to say.

"Uh....Okay"you give him the green light to confess.

"I want you , right here and right now"he said and your eyes widened, certainly not expecting that.

"You want me?"you asked dumbly, maybe you were interpreting things wrong because why on earth would someone like him want someone like you.

"Yes, Ms y/n" he confirmed what you already knew, your back pressed against the wall in the kitchen.

"You're my boss"you said and he cages you in with his arms, you bite your bottom lip again.

"You're off the clock"he counters.

"I also have work tomorrow"you said and he brings his hand to your face, his thumb caressing your cheek as he tilts your head up to stare at you better.

"I can think of a few ways to make you call out"he said and you blush again, looking away and biting your bottom lip.

"Kiss me"you say after a moment of silence, the both of you knew you would end up here the moment you invited him inside and now that you were here there was no going back.

His lips waste no time at all to connect with your lips and you drink him in completely, your lips and tongues tangled in a battle.

You lick into his mouth and he sucks on your tongue, his hands slide down and find their purchase on your ass, squeezing your flesh through the material of your work pants.

You moan onto his mouth and pull him closer by his shirt, he pulls away from your lips for some sir and slips his hands inside of your pants. He pushes the material over your ass before grabbing at your flesh again.

His lips leave your own and travels to your neck, licking and sucking on the skin there as he leaves a mark behind before he's pushing your underwear and pants down.

You step out of the sticky material and run your fingers through his hair, earning a groan from him at the tug as a smile takes over your face.

You kick your clothes to the side and tug on his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the nice material and feeling the smooth and defined skin underneath before you pull back to look at him.

"Take it off"is all you say as he kisses you again and he groans softly, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss to pull his shirt over his head and you bite your bottom lip at what you see.

Abs. So nice.

You don't hesitate to kiss and lick at his beautiful torso as you sink down onto your knees, licking and kissing his v-line.

"Come here"he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you up, kissing your lips again and lifting you up into his arms easily.

"Show off"you smiled against his lips and he laughs, sitting you on the counter as you use your fingers to work on getting him out of his jeans and underwear.

"Does this mean you're taking off of work tomorrow?"he asks once again and you bite your bottom lip.

"I can be persuaded"you tell him and he kisses your lips again, pushing his pants to the floor and stepping out of them.

"I can't wait anymore, I need to taste you"he said and pushes you down on your back , lifting your hips and licking your pussy softly.

A gasp leaves your lips as he hums softly and sucks your clit into his mouth, your back arching as you moan out loud and grip his hair.

"Fuck- why is your tongue so soft"you whimper as he sucks on your clit, your hips bucking against his mouth as you roll your hips.

"Feels good?"he asked with a grin and you look down at him with a lazy smile.

"So good"you bite your bottom lip and he blows air on your clit before sucking it back into his mouth, sucking harder and flicking his tongue faster.

He shows no mercy on you as his hands hold you still while his mouth works on you, you're unable to keep quiet and he certainly didn't want you to regardless.

The slap to your pussy each time you try to cover your mouth or bite your bottom lip was enough proof of that and judging by your heavy breaths he could tell you were close.

His eyes watch as your jaw hangs open and countless moans, whimpers and cries leave your lips.

"Gonna cum"you warned him and he pulls away much to your disappointment, pulling you off of the counter before he pulls out his cock from his boxers and turns you around.

He covers your mouth as he enters your pussy from behind slowly and your eyes roll to the back of your head, he starts off slowly thrusting into you.

You knew he had to have a nice cock and you were right, his cock was so nice. All of him was nice.

"You're so big"you whimper as soon as he removes his hand and he kisses your lips, pulling off your shirt and bra.

He grabs both of your arms as he speeds up the pace of his thrusts, hitting all the right spots and making your back arch as you moan loudly.

He uses a hand to cover your mouth and the other is placed over your tummy, he bites his bottom lip harshly at the way your pussy keeps sucking him right back in.

He pushes you forward against the counter and places a hand at your lower back , you hold onto the counter as he holds onto both of your hips and pulls you back onto his cock to match his thrusts.

"You're gonna make me cum already"your knuckles turning white from your grip on the counter as you squirm in his grasp from the force of his thrusts, it was almost as if he was trying to make sure you would be in no condition to go to work tomorrow.

"Cum on my cock angel"you gasp as a hand slides between your legs to rub circles on your clit, giving that extra stimulation that has your body curling in on itself as you cum.

Your body continues to twitch as he catches you before you could fall forward against the counter, pulling you back against his chest before guiding you towards your room slowly.

He brushes your hair away from your face once you're settled onto your bed, your hand wraps around his cock and you start to stroke his length.

"You're not tired yet?"he asked with a chuckle, bucking his hips into your hand and you kiss his lips for what felt like the tenth time tonight.

"I want you to cum too"you tell him and stroke his cock, moving slowly as you straddle his lap and line his tip up to your entrance.

You sink down on his cock slowly as your jaw drops once again but this time it was because of how deep he was.

"Holy shit"you take a deep breath and hide your face in his neck , he rubs your back soothingly and without a second thought he plants his feet on the bed and thrusts into you quickly.

"Ah!"you scream and hide your face in his neck, gripping the sheets beneath his head tightly.

"I know, fuck- you can take it , you're such a good girl"he whispers into your ear and kisses your lips again, you kick your feet as he grabs your hips and helps you bounce your ass on his cock.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and your muffled cries fill the room, you pull back and sit up on his lap as he continues to drive his cock into you.

"Fuck-!"you lift off his cock as you cum but he pulls you right back down , kissing your lips and thrusting into you again as he rolls you over onto your side.

"You staying home tomorrow?"he asked you again and you grip his hair tightly, overstimulation kicking in and you nodded.

"Yes, fuck- whatever you want"it was as if that was the magic word because he immediately pulls out of your spent pussy and strokes his cock, a deep mean leaving his lips as he runs his tip through your folds and painting your flesh with his cum.

His lips are back on yours as you both kiss back lazily, he pulls your body into his side and silence engulfs you both.

"Are you going to tell me your name now?"you asked him and he chuckles, you pull back enough to look at his face.

"Seungcheol"he finally tells you and you smile at him, kissing his lips once again and he cups your cheeks.

"I think I might be addicted to you now"his voice cuts through the silence and you bite your bottom lip.

"You're my boss, we shouldn't be doing this"you trace shapes on his chest as guilt rushes through your body, the gravity of the situation just now hitting you.

You just had sex with your boss.

"I'm the boss remember, I make the rules and the first rule is kiss me"his thumb strokes your cheek and you smile, shaking your head.

"Right now"he nods and pulls you down for another kiss, tongues clashing once again.

The night was still young and whether you knew it or not seungcheol still had a few more rounds left in him for the night.

It's not like you would be going to work in the morning regardless, he has you all to himself for the next 24 hours.

[alaskan-wallflower]

alright you guys are getting sick of me ranting but i’m going to do it anyway and get specific here

the way some of you treat brody in specific is absolutely putrid. i have NEVER seen an actor be as disrespected as him. and im sorry, but those “allegations” were faked, or at least blown out of proportion to an extent. believe whatever you want, but what i will say is if you still support the show, use the shows audios, hate view content with him/the show in it, you’re making your intentions and priorities VERY clear. you’re still supporting him and the show that he’s in. so if you seriously believe the allegations then you would stop supporting the show, if you’re that hellbent on the allegations being true and you really wanna call yourself a “victims advocate”, you would stop supporting the show. trevor, kevin and someone else were accused of the exact same shit and you kiss their bare asses. victims advocate my ass. you’re making your priorities loud and fucking clear.

it’s not just that at this point. you guys track his absences, i saw a tiktok asking HIS MOTHER for his height so they could calculate inappropriate things back in june/july, you make up rumors and say that he was fucking fired and banned from the property of the theater when he literally said himself he was in japan (to which some people still say he wasn’t which i don’t know what to tell you, how the fuck would he “ai generate” those images?), you start these horrible rumors about him and you leak where he leaves from and mob him to the point he gets overwhelmed enough to have a panic attack? are you fucking serious?

this isn’t just “i don’t like him” at this point. this is hatred to an unhealthy level. the fact that some of you are willing to take away his safety and privacy? are you sick in the fucking head?! you’re taking away HIS human right of being able to fucking go home without a hunch of assholes mobbing him. you’re treating him like an object rather than a person. there is a huge, thick, bold line between “i don’t like his performance” and “i don’t like him as a person”, to which, you don’t know him personally like that, so it’s unfair to say you hate him when you literally do not know him. the amount you hate him is beyond parasocial.

you have no right to track his absences and then make up rumors about him and why he’s gone. it’s not your business and you have no right to know where he is and why he’s out. you have no right to take his privacy and safety away and then interrogate him on why he doesn’t do stage door. you have absolutely no right to strip away his right to privacy and a life outside of his place of work.

you’re not being a “victims advocate”. if you were a real victims advocate you’d look at the allegations in whole and not just cherry pick the parts you want to believe and the parts you don’t. you’re being a fucking piece of shit and as a survivor of ss it makes me absolutely disgusted to see you poor excuses of people pretending to be some hero for being an asshole to someone. whether you like him or not, he doesn’t deserve this treatment from you assholes.

fucking do better. you all are gonna complain and throw a fit when he doesn’t renew his contract, but when the announcement comes out that he’s going to leave i want you to reflect on how you all treated him. that’s what you’re leaving him with. the kind of exposure to broadway he’s getting as a debuting actor. this is what he’s going to remember his first time on broadway as. i don’t fucking blame him for likely not renewing. fuck you all.

[captainsophiestark]

Lost Memories

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by Anon! Hope you like it!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Elijah's spouse of the last thousand years, since before they became vampires, has had their memory taken by a witch. The immediate after effects are a little rough, but they've made it through worse together before.

Word Count: 2,423

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"...wake up... my love?"

Blearily, I opened my eyes. My head was pounding, and I had no idea why. I blinked a few times, trying to get my blurry vision to clear while my wits returned. I was laying on a nice, soft couch, and after a minute my surroundings came into focus enough to see a handsome man I didn't recognize kneeling before me, another stranger standing and hovering a short ways behind the first.

"Finally, she wakes," said the man standing, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smile. The man kneeling next to me still looked gravely serious.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, voice low and soft and soothing. "Are you alright?"

"Uh... not great, honestly... where am I? Who... who are you?"

The face of the man before me fell instantly. The one behind him crossed the room closer to us, brows knit in concern, but the soft voice of the man kneeling returned my attention to him.

"My love... please tell me you're joking."

Slowly, I shook my head. "I'm sorry, no. I... should I know you?"

I could see the gears turning in his brain, a storm of emotions flitting across his face before he carefully wiped them away, a gentle expression settling in their place. He started to reach out a hand as if to take mine, then apparently thought better of it and stopped short.

"My name is Elijah Mikaelson," he said, speaking slowly. "And you are my wife."

My eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry, but I think I would remember getting married."

"And do you remember anything else? Any other significant events? Details about your life?"

Elijah's voice was gentle, like he worried I might break. And as I though about his question, going back in my memory and trying to remember anything and I kept coming up blank, I got very close.

"What... what happened?" I finally breathed, meeting Elijah's gaze with wide eyes. I searched for any spark of recognition, but found nothing. My heart raced as I got closer and closer to tipping over the edge into panic until Elijah genlty rested a hand on my forearm, momentarily grounding me.

"You were kidnapped by an enemy of ours," he said. "Niklaus—my brother—and I thought we got to you in time to prevent any harm being done, but... evidently not."

His voice broke a bit on the last word, and I found myself reflexively taking his hand in mine and giving it a soft squeeze, despite the insanity of what he'd just said to me. He gave me a strained smile and squeezed back before taking a deep breath to continue.

"Hopefully it's something we can fix easily," he said. "Just look into my eyes..."

I did as he said and then, a moment later, it was like I couldn't look away. My whole world narrowed to the man in front of me and his gorgeous brown eyes as he spoke.

"Remember."

The word echoed around in my head, followed a moment later by a blinding pain. I screamed as an invisible spike pounded into my skull and everything around me disappeared. I wasn't sure how much time passed, but eventually the pain started to fade and the room came into focus around me again.

This time both brothers knelt before me, looking incredibly concerned. I blinked a few times as the last of the pain faded, my gaze landing on Elijah.

"I don't know what that was, but... I don't think it worked."

"Right! It's going to be just like breaking compulsion then, and you know what that means, Elijah," said the brother, Niklaus, as he stood and started heading for the door. "I'm off to go kill a witch."

My mouth dropped open and I turned to Elijah, expecting some joke or else an attempt to stop his brother. Instead, Niklaus just looked back at me over his shoulder, pausing briefly as he reached the door.

"You take care of yourself in the meantime, love. Don't worry, we'll get this fixed."

And with that, he was gone.

I turned my attention back to Elijah, who apparently wasn't phased by any of this in the least. He just kept watching me, wariness and concern etched into his expression.

"Elijah... I think you need to explain some things to me," I said. "Witches? Enemies of mine? And what on Earth was that... thing... you did before with your eyes and saying the word 'remember'? And why am I just... absolutely starving right now, but nothing I can think of sounds good to eat?"

Elijah sighed and reached to take my hand again, although I didn't remember him dropping it. Still, I let him, sitting up and moving over so he had room to sit next to me instead of kneeling on the floor.

"This is going to be... quite an explanation if you have no memories, so I'll need you to bear with me, alright?" I nodded despite my nerves as Elijah took another deep breath. "You and I.... are vampires."

My eyebrows shot into my hairline, but I managed to muzzle any response other than that, since I'd just promised Elijah to let him get through his whole explanation. Still, I didn't remember a lot about myself or my past, but remembering that vampires existed felt like something that probably shouldn't have disappeared along with everything else if it were true.

"You and I met a thousand years ago as humans," Elijah continued, now taking both my hands in his. I let him, especially as I noticed his eyes getting a little misty. I had to admit I felt something when I looked at him, some lingering feeling that wouldn't quite go away, although I couldn't name it. "We were married, and when the rest of my family and I turned, you turned with us. Since then, we've been inseparable, no matter how many different things have tried to change that. However, as a result of being what we are and... a few of my brother's more problematic choices, shall we say, we've developed a fair number of people in all that time who wish to do us harm, or to get revenge for some wrong, whether real or percieved. More recently, we've been trying to resettle here in New Orleans, and there are several groups who don't like that, some witches included.

"One of those witches kidnapped you, and evidently found a way to deeply erase your memory. As for the hunger you feel, it's most likely a result of your need to feed. If you haven't had blood in some time, well... then it'd be like starving a human."

I shook my head, trying to process most of his words while really blocking out the last sentence.

"But I don't remember vampires and witches and whatever else being real. If I rememeber... I don't know, things like the sky being blue, even though I haven't been outside since I woke up, why wouldn't I remember that creatures like that exist?"

Elijah grimaced and squeezed my hands a little tighter. "My guess would be the witches intentioanlly made you forget. Out of all of us, you've always been the most... human. The most connected to your humanity, no matter how long we've been alive. I think their hope was to make it as hard as possible for you to regain your memories or readjust to the world with the rest of us, knowing what it is that vampires do."

"And... what exactly is it that vampires do?"

"We do quite a lot of things," he said, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a slight smile. "But hopefully, you'll remember all of that on your own soon enough. The only thing we need to deal with immediately is... blood."

I grimaced, even as my stomach grumbled and tightened painfully. Elijah gently squeezed my hands again, bringing my attention back to him.

"I brought some with me, assuming you'd be hungry. If you'd like to try it...?"

I immediately started shaking my head, continuing as Elijah dropped one of my hands and reached into his jacket pocket and intesifying when he pulled out a small bag of what must have been blood.

"No. No no no, no way. I can't... drink that. And do you just, like, carry that on you?"

"Only recently, for you," he said, carefully considering the bag before holding it out to me. My stomach growled, but my mind and heart recoiled even as my body urged me forward. I shot back, forcing myself away. That had come from a person, and even worse, most likely out of a blood bank or something, where it should've been used to help save someone's life. Not for me to drink.

Elijah pursed his lips as I rocketed backwards, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he laid the bloodbag aside and turned back to me. His stare was intense, but kind. He started to move forward as if to reach for me again, but stopped short.

"I'm sorry. This was the hardest part the first time for you too, and it didn't get much easier for the first hundred years or so."

I let out a slightly hysterical laugh, the beginnings of tears forming in my eyes and threatening to fall. I bit my lip, trying to keep it together, but the pain and fear and hunger and confusion I'd felt since waking up was starting to catch up to me.

Just as the tide was starting to overwhelm me, strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me into a close, warm embrace. Finally, I couldn't hold back anymore. I started crying.

Gently, one of Elijah's hands came up to rest on the back of my head, gently and soothingly running down from there to my back. I cried harder, tucking my face into his shirt and breathing in the smell of him. It wasn't familiar, even though I felt like it should be, but it was at least comforting.

"Is this... alright?" Elijah asked, barely loud enough for me to hear, his voice sounding almost as fragile as I felt. "Is it alright that I'm holding you like this?"

I could only muster a nod as I curled further into Elijah's chest. He pulled me closer to him in response, wrapping his arms around me a little tighter as we huddled together on the couch.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, holding each other, as my overloading emotions finished running their course. Most of the problems that had caused them still existed, but the tears combined with Elijah's comfort had at least lightened the load. Elijah rubbed soothing circles on my back as he finally spoke again.

"You've always been the most human of us, since the day we turned," he said, voice raw. "Normally, it's something we're all incredibly grateful for. You keep us grounded. You care, and you haven't let a thousand years on this Earth make you stop caring, or stop loving life. But right now, it's also making this even worse on you. And for that I am so, so sorry."

I huffed a short laugh, pulling away from him at last while wiping at my eyes.

"I wish I could say I remember you. I'm sorry that I don't. But thank you. Somehow, just being near you seems to make me feel better."

Elijah smiled slightly, reaching out to take my hand again. I gave it a squeeze, then slowly turned to look at the blood he'd set aside.

"If there's any way for me to make it easier, all you need to do is say the word," Elijah assured me. "Or if it might be easier to... drink mine?"

I turned to Elijah with wide eyes. "That's... an option?"

He nodded, then moved to roll up his sleeve before I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"I appreciate the offer, but... I think that would probably be harder for me, trying to drink a live person's blood. At least this way I can kind of pretend it's a juice box or something."

Elijah chuckled as I steeled myself to reach forward and take the blood bag. I wanted to be more grossed out by it than I was, but I was also so hungry, and I just knew that this would fix it, the way nothing else could. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it was just a V8 or something as I bit into it, feeling fangs pop out from my mouth naturally. Even after I finished drinking the last of the blood, I kept my eyes closed. I didn't want to face anything that might force me to think about what I'd just did.

Wordlessly, while I kept my eyes shut, I felt Elijah take the blood bag and ease it out of my hands. I heard a woosh and felt a light breeze brush across my face, and then Elijah spoke again.

"It's gone," he said softly. I opened my eyes and gave him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that."

"You never have to apologize to me, especially not for something like that. Your first time drinking blood was actually much worse, although I'll just let that story come back to you on its own. But no matter what, memories or no, I'm here for you. Always and forever."

We shared a smile, a warm feeling spreading through my chest at the sight of the man before me. I still didn't really recognize him or remember him at all, but clearly, I'd done a good job when I'd found him. After a moment, I took a deep breath.

"So... what now?"

"Well, for the moment at leaest, nothing. Hopefully my brother will be able to solve this before it becomes something we have to involve ourselves in."

I nodded, then opened my mouth again only to chicken out and close it. I repeated the process a few times before finally getting up the courage to say what I wanted to say. Elijah, for his part, just waited patiently, a soft smile on his face.

"Elijah? Can you... hold me? At least for a little, while we wait?"

"Of course, my love. Nothing would make me happier."

The two of us settled into the couch, arms around each other. While it didn't magically unlock anything in my memory, it did feel warm and safe to be there with Elijah. If we'd really made it through hundreds of years of time and space together like this... well, I didn't need my memory to know we'd be able to get through this together, too.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[huffelpuff210]

What we need part 2

Loki x shy reader

It was half past two in the morning when you heard pounding at your door, you were in a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and a army green tank top,

You let out a frustrated sigh giving the fact you were just about to go to bed.

Tony and Bruce were keeping you up late working on a project,

You open the door revealing Natasha,

You arch your brow at her,

“Can I help you?” You asked clearly confused she never visited you actually none of the avengers have,

“It’s Clint he’s hurt bad.” She says in a panic,

She doesn’t need to say more, you speed walk beside her, barefoot and in your pajamas with your hair wet from the shower,

You enter the lab everyone is there their eyes on you,

Loki refused to heal anyone when he first arrived at the tower, Tony’s response was ‘we don’t you need you reindeer games we have a healer.’

To say he was surprised when you walked in the room dressed the way you were was an understatement, especially how he could see your nipples harden when the two of you made eye contact,

“Thank god Y/N!” Steve says

“Why didn’t you summon me with the AI.” You say in a board tone,

“Friday is rebooting from the maintenance I did on her today.” Tony says walking in

You nod understanding,

“Do your stuff sweetheart.” Tony says

He always called you that not as a love interest but as a parental figure in his mind but it always went over your head,

You nod walking over to Clint who is bleeding out from a gunshot wound,

You place both hands over the wound closing your eyes, everyone watches as your hand illuminate green, Loki stood in shock at your ability but he can sense you were pushing to far.

After you finished healing Clint you left the room without a word, you could barely focus, you could feel your body temp rise, your legs felt like jelly and everything was spinning, you steadied yourself as you rode the elevator, you knew you were going to have to call out for a few days, every time you push your ability beyond its limit you get this way. You stumbled out of the elevator down the hall way, entering your room,

You needed to cool down,

“Miss L/N you body tempature is 109 and rising,” the AI announced

“I know..” you mumble

You turn on the cold shower water stepping in with your clothes on,

“113 and rising.” She said

Your breathing getting shallow, you lay your head against the shower wall as your vision starts to blur and you fall into darkness,

Loki knew something was amiss when he saw the door to your room open,

He strode into the room,

“Lady, L/N it’s Loki,” he says as he walks through the room,

When he stops at the open bathroom door open, the shower running, and you unconscious with clothes on,

“Y/N!” He rushes toward her

She was burning up,

“It’s alright, I’ve got you…” he says picking you up in his arms,

“You’ll be okay..” he says leaving with her in his arms