#I just want to know if anyone would hold me accountable for my behavior | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goodlucktai · 4 months ago

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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

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.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt movie #raphael hamato #leonardo hamato #michelangelo hamato #donatello hamato #my writing #tmnt fic #a team #now the darkness comes alive

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chris-prank · 2 months ago

Note

I need the reaction of the baes (Vincent, Esteban and Atlas) to reader thirsting loudly for strangers online. Like full on down bad simping.

I love these kinds of ask about multiple of my ocs. This way they are all compiled in one post 😆 so thank you mellsfern!

Now jealousy timeeeee

CW: Possessive behavior, manipulative behavior and mention/use of a syringe (in Vincent’s part)

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Vincent has been monitoring your online activities for a while now. It was his favorite thing to do after a long day of working on new inventions for Fatalité, being able to sit comfortably in front of his computer and check what you were up to. But lately… you’ve been checking one person’s account a bit too much on Slowgram. You liked their post the second they were up, why couldn’t you be dedicated like that with him instead!? What made his blood boil the most, was the private conversation you were having with your friend about this influencer. Paragraph after Paragraph were filled with praises, words of adoration and lewd comments on what you wanted to do to them. At first he thought it was just a passing infatuation, but he couldn't keep watching you lust over someone else, it made him see red. Dr. Seraph didn’t even have to hack into that influencer's computer to find their address, this idiot had it plastered all over their socials. At this point, they were just asking for it! At the dead of night, he easily entered their house. Hovering over the sleeping form, his face showed a scarily cold expression.

“I was lacking a test subject for my latest invention.” With precision, he plunged a syringe in the person's neck, “I wonder if they'll still think you're attractive after I’m done with you.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Esteban snatched the phone from your grasp. One minute you were alone in the living room, liking every post of a guy online and the next you were empty handed. Unbeknownst to you, he was actually stalking your account before all this and happened to see your liked posts.

“What’s your deal?!” You jumped out of the couch, trying to take your property back.

“What’s my deal? What about yours Mmm?!” He pouted, raising the phone out of your reach, “You have a guy with the literal body of a Greek god at your disposition and you're gawking at this?”

He shook one picture in your face before retrieving it quickly. “Can you even tell that he is photoshopped? I don't need that cheap trick to look appealing.”

He couldn’t let you thirst over this loser and act like nothing was wrong. You shouldn’t need to feel the urge to simp over anyone else! All you need is him, him! That’s why he didn’t have a choice, Esteban had to have your device altered so you could never see that person's face again on any app. Without saying a word he headed towards the front door.

“Hey! Give me my phone back!”

“Don’t worry, I’m buying you a better one with some needed modifications.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Atlas stared at the picture that you were showing to him on your phone. He already knew your feelings towards this influencer. Having connected to your social media without your consent, he had seen that you were commenting on this person's post a bit too often for his liking. Still, he acted oblivious when you started ranting about them.

“Aren’t they just so perfect!? Like they are so fine I caaaaan't!” You groaned and contracted your other hand as if you were a predator closing in on its prey.

He really couldn’t understand what you liked about them that he didn’t have. He could at least console himself with the fact that this person unobtainable, that they would never be a part of your life, unlike him. But still, he hated knowing that you had eyes for someone else to this extent.

Atlas leaned down, looking at you through his long and pale lashes. “I can be anything you want me to be, you know. I can change my hair color to match theirs or even my personality if that’s what you want.” Then, the android slowly lowered your phone down by gently taking hold of your wrist, “So no need to think about them any longer.”

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I love showing Vincent’s murderous and sadistic side, especially when it’s related to his darling. Also possessive Atlas is just a cutie pattotie.

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puck-luck · 5 months ago

Text

frat fever | cole caufield

warnings: use of Y/N, situationship, deffo gaslighting from the frat boy (realism), fingering, hickeys, PROTECTED p in v (first time ever on this account fr), mentions of STDs and cheating (but is it technically cheating?) pairing: frat boy!cole caufield x fem!reader summary: frat cole frat cole frat cole!! dear cole caufield, please give me a chance, i wish i had met you at the pike house like y/n did wc: 3189

You had kept yourself together pretty well, all things considered. You were used to Cole leaving you on delivered, only replying to keep up your snap streak. During the weekend, things were different– Cole would reach out first, always late at night and always searching for one thing. You weren’t delusional. You know the terms of your relationship.

You tell Cole about your day, and Cole only cares about you on the weekend, when he strikes out at the Pike tailgate ahead of the football game and doesn’t manage to find a girl at the bar after the game is over.

It’s the perfect situationship. You’re annoyed, but not mad enough to break things off. Cole makes up for his typical frat behavior by folding your laundry when he comes over and falling asleep wrapped around you, but never complaining when you wake him up and kick him out. It works.

So you can’t really explain why you’re marching over to the Pike house now, phone in your hand, frown on your face. On your phone lies the proof that your relationship isn’t as exclusive as Cole pledged it was last weekend– a picture of him dancing up on a girl, light-up cowboy hat on his head. In fact, he had told you that he couldn’t go out last weekend because he had some family thing, and you had believed him.

Now, it was clear that he lied: both about going home for the weekend, and about only wanting to fuck you.

You rap on the door of the frat house and it swings open. One of the boys from Cole’s pledge class opens the door, surprise written all over his face.

“Y/N?” Jack asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Cole?” You demand, pushing past him. You’re now in the foyer of the house, surprisingly clean and quiet for a Monday morning.

“He’s in his room, geez,” Jack replies, sounding annoyed. “You don’t have to come in here all mad.”

You don’t reply, just turning on your heel and marching down the hall. You’ve been to Cole’s room plenty of times. You’ve pestered him for bathroom privileges at parties, always ending up sneaking away with him to have a quickie when he relents.

You walk through Cole’s bedroom door without knocking, seething a little bit.

“Y/N,” Cole greets, jumping in surprise. “What the fuck?”

“You said you weren’t fucking anyone else,” You accuse, tossing your phone at his chest. “What the fuck is that, then, huh?”

Cole scrambles, holding your phone up so he can take in the picture. He pales a little bit, but catches himself and brushes it off. “We were just dancing.”

“Just dancing,” you repeat, laughing sarcastically. “So why did you tell me you were going out of town this past weekend? To see family? I’d hate if you were dancing on family like that, you lying shit.”

“Whoa,” Cole laughs. “Dude, you’re freaking out. My plans changed. I didn’t realize I had to clear them with you, Mother.”

You nearly growl. Your hands itch to reach out and slap him, furious and frustrated. He always has the most biting, annoying response to your statements, making them sound irrational and crazy. You hate feeling irrational and crazy.

Of course Cole is a grown man, he doesn’t have to clear his plans with you. You feel silly for barging in and implying that that’s what you want at all. He’s also a frat boy– a dedicated brother, considering how often he talks about the frat and wears his letters when you see him, so you shouldn’t have believed him when he said you were the only girl he wanted to fuck. Your arrangement is one out of convenience, not feelings. You’re teetering dangerously close on feelings territory, and this is just about sex.

“I told you I didn’t want you fucking other girls,” you say, doubling down. “I don’t want to get an STD from you.”

“I told you I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole replies, rolling his eyes. “You’re overreacting, baby. Come sit with me. We’ll watch a movie while you calm down.”

He pats the bed next to him, then puts his arm up over the pillows. He’s shirtless, just lounging about in his room, and your eyes are drawn to the smooth skin of his side. You know he’s been working out– he goes to the gym every day, usually sends you a snap in the mirror of the locker room. It’s really showing. You watch his muscles ripple when he sweeps his arm out.

It’s distracting you from just how annoying and bitchy he’s being. You don’t want to sit down with him, or watch a movie with him, and you certainly don’t want him to tell you to calm down.

“Baby,” Cole repeats, a pout on his face. “Don’t make me beg.”

You glare at him, but your resolve crumbles anyway. “Fine,” you mutter, climbing onto the bed next to Cole. You settle in, frown on your face and arms crossed against your chest.

Cole’s arm falls over your shoulder and he tugs you into his side. “Where’s my sweet girl, huh?” He asks, patting your arm and shaking you a bit. “Why’re you being so mean?”

Why am I being mean? You want to scream. You’re the one sleeping with other people!

But at the same time, the other part of you is blushing and wiggling happily in her seat. ‘My’ sweet girl, he said.

You don’t reply, trying to keep the unimpressed look in your eyes as you stare at Cole. He cradles your face, then moves his hands so he’s boxing you in. He starts to rise up on his knees, hovering above you, and you shrink down to escape his closeness. You don’t go far, because Cole plants a knee between your thighs and effectively stops you from moving any further.

“I see how it is,” Cole says. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not!” You exclaim, planting a hand on Cole’s chest. Warm. Bare. Oh God.

Cole grins and he leans down to kiss your shoulder, then up your neck. You let out a breath at the sensation, your body relaxing beneath him. Your hands find his hair and you want to stroke your fingers through the strands, but you pull him away by his locks instead.

Cole growls playfully, removing your hands from his hair and holding your wrists above your head with one hand. “You’re jealous,” he repeats.

“I’m not,” You retort.

Cole talks over you. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, but you know I’m all yours.”

You frown, ready to retort. Cole rolls his hips down onto yours and the complaint evaporates in your mouth.

“Do I need to remind you?” Cole asks. He’s teasing you, mocking you. “Did you forget that my dick only gets hard for you, baby?”

“Cole,” you warn, the last shred of your dignity marking the word.

He frowns, making his eyes big and sad. He brings his hand down and pushes your knees apart so he can really crowd into your space. He grinds down against your clothed cunt and relishes in the little sound that you make.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” Cole promises, and the illogical part of you believes him.

It seals the deal. You feel like you’ve suddenly locked the logical part of your brain behind bars, in a soundproof room.

Cole leans down for a kiss and the image fades from your mind. He captures your lips, waiting for you to respond before he slips his tongue into your mouth. When he pulls away, you follow.

“There she is,” he coos. “My sweet girl. Want me to fuck you, make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“You missed me this weekend, didn’t you?” Cole asks, releasing your wrists so he can use both hands to raise your shirt. He pulls it over your head, then grabs one of your breasts, thumbing over your nipple. He bites his lip at the sight and you keen. “That’s why you stormed in here, all mad. You missed me.”

Pathetically, you nod. It seems like the right answer at the time– anything to keep Cole’s hands on you.

Cole’s face breaks into a smile and you soak it in like a reward. “Sweetheart, all you had to do was send me a message and I would’ve been in your bed. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“Shut up,” you groan, a little embarrassed at the pet name. “Just fuck me.”

“You can ask nicer than that,” Cole chides, pulling away from you. He pushes his shorts down, leaving him just in some tight boxer-briefs that have your mouth watering. “I know you have manners, Y/N.”

“Please, Cole,” you reply. It’s half-hearted at best.

Cole hums, unimpressed. He slips your shorts down your legs and pets over your panties, just skimming his fingers over the fabric. “So wet for me, but you’re not acting like it. Why do you make things hard for me, baby?”

He dips his fingers into your panties, slicking up his digits with your wetness. He traces your hole, but doesn’t push in. He completely ignores your clit.

You whine, rolling your hips against his hand. He stills his palm against you, making you do all the work.

“Say you need my cock,” Cole commands, looking at you like you need his guidance, like you can’t function without him. “That’s all you need to say, and then I’ll touch you.”

“Cole,” you say, blushing red.

He pushes the tip of his middle finger inside of you, then retreats. He repeats the action, filling you more with each dip into your heat. “Say it, baby. Tell me you need my cock and it’ll be all yours.”

Your hips twitch against his hand, his ring finger now starting to join his middle. He’s stretching you wide, staring into your eyes as he does it and taking in each heave of your breath. He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth down to your chest. His tongue swirls against your nipple, then sucks the whole thing into his mouth. He moans against you, his fingers curling inside of you.

“Fuck, Cole,” you moan, a hand finding his shoulder.

“Mm?” Cole hums, looking up at you, and the vibrations against your nipple are almost too much.

“I need your cock,” you plead, arching your back and rolling your hips into his hand. Cole prompts you again, the heel of his hand stroking your clit. “Please, Cole, I need your cock inside of me. I need you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Cole praises, drawing his fingers out of your cunt. He licks them clean, giving you a show. It makes you whimper, remembering all the times when his tongue danced up and down your slit and flicked over your clit until you came. “I’m going to give you what you need, don’t worry.”

He tucks his fingers into his waistband and inches the briefs down. You nearly drool when his length is revealed, a dribble of precum leaking from his slit. Cole fists his cock, laughing as your eyes follow his movements, pumping up and down.

“You need it bad,” Cole observes, smirking. “But there seems to still be something in my way.”

He pointedly lowers his eyes to your core and you rush to remove your panties, a wet line of slick attaching itself to your thigh while you hurry to rid yourself of the scrap of fabric. Once the panties are on the other side of the room, you spread your legs wide, waiting for him to fill the space and press into you.

“So eager,” Cole chides. “Spread your lips, babe. I want to see my hole.”

You choke on a gasp, his possessive tone like a squeeze to your heart. You bring a hand down between your legs and pull your folds apart, clenching as the chill in the air hits your bare entrance.

Cole’s eyes fill with fire at the sight of you, pliant and obedient beneath him. There's a reason he keeps coming back to you, after all.

But you also don’t trust him, and Cole can’t have that. He needs to punish you just a bit more.

“You’re so mean to me, Y/N,” he says conversationally, still stroking himself.

You frown and shake your head. “No, I'm not.”

“Uh-huh,” Cole teases. He lists off the reasons. “You accuse me of fucking other girls, you think I'm going to give you an STD…”

He inches toward the edge of his bed, reaching for his bedside drawer.

“I didn't mean that,” you say, trying to salvage the situation.

Cole draws a condom out of the drawer and tears the wrapping. He rolls the rubber onto his member and you pout.

“None of that, baby,” Cole reprimands. “You're worried that I'm fucking other girls and I might give you something. I guess we have to be safe until I can run to the Student Health Center and get tested, right?”

You grumble an agreement, frowning more when Cole lets out a chuckle and crowds into your space.

He nudges his way under your neck and sucks a bruise there, something that you’ll have to cover up for your class the following morning. You realize and push him away, but Cole just traps your hands again and brings them back above your head. He continues to suck and lick over your neck, purpling the area.

With his other hand, he lines himself up with your dripping entrance. He pushes forward, groaning as your heat envelops him.

“So tight,” he praises against your neck. He kisses, then shifts forward another inch. “I love your pussy.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as he snaps his hips forward, burying the rest of himself inside of you.

Cole sets a frantic pace, grunting and moaning in your ear as he chases the pleasure surrounding his cock.

“How could I fuck other girls when I’ve got this perfect pussy,” Cole muses, the question coming out as more of a rhetorical statement. He thrusts forward, hard, making your jaw drop. “Only pussy I need, right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you agree, his cock bumping your g-spot with every thrust. Every other sound that falls from your lip is a moan or a whimper, but they’re bubbling up in your chest into something louder.

“And fuck, you love this cock,” Cole continues, biting his lip and concentrating on the bliss covering your features. “Nothing fills you quite like me? That’s why you were all jealous? You thought someone else was getting your dick?” His tone turns mocking, pitiful. “You just couldn’t stand the idea of someone else having me, is that it?”

“Yes,” you whine, repeating the word with each of his trusts. You agree over and over again, barely aware of what he’s saying. His pleasure is consuming you, tending to a fire in your stomach that’s almost out of control. You yelp when Cole’s thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing in harsh circles, but the yelp turns into a wanton keen. “Cole, fuck, I’m close.”

“Gonna scream my name when you come, baby?” Cole asks, then kisses your lips. He pulls back, the hand not rubbing your clit bundled in the pillow next to your head for leverage. “Let the whole house know who’s fucking you this good?”

“Cole,” you wail, clutching his wrist to ground yourself.

“A little louder, sweet girl,” Cole encourages, nudging your nose against his and panting into your mouth. “Tell ‘em who you belong to.”

Your chest lifts off the bed involuntarily and you cry out, a garbled version of Cole’s name mixed with the high-pitched moan signaling your release. It’s Cole’s favorite sound that you make, and most of the time, he rewards you by spilling inside of you.

He’s forced to spill his seed in the condom, groaning and stuttering above you as he does so. You feel oddly empty, even though you can feel him twitching inside of you as his come fills the condom.

Cole’s thrusts slow and eventually stop, his hooded eyes meeting yours. His bottom lip drops from his teeth and it curves with a smile, dipping to catch yours. He draws out while kissing you. Eventually he rolls away and pinches the tip of the condom, removing it. He ties it off and launches it toward his trash can– and makes it.

He brightens, looking back at you to make sure you saw it.

“Kobe,” you tease, and Cole laughs.

He wipes you down with one of the shirts on his bedroom floor, tossing the item towards the laundry hamper when he’s done. He doesn’t even shoot for the basket, just aims in the general direction. He kisses up your chest and sucks a bruise onto the curve of your breast, then pecks your lips.

“I’m not fucking other girls,” he repeats, patting your hip. “But I do have a chapter meeting in about an hour, so I’m going to have to kick you out.”

You pout and he matches the expression, leaning in to kiss it off your face. He stands and finds your shirt and shorts, bringing them back to the bed. He sits in front of you and holds them out. You push away from his comfortable pillows and hold your arms above your head.

Cole bites back a grin, his eyes flickering down to look at your tits before he helps you slip the t-shirt over your head. He smooths some non-existent wrinkles, cupping your boobs before he pulls away. You snatch the shorts from his hand and pull them on, climbing out of bed and finding your way to his mirror across the room. You fuss over your hair for a second, trying to tame the unruly mess, but you give up and tie it up with the ponytail holder on your wrist.

“Are you going to text me later?” You ask Cole, eyebrow raised.

He crossed his arms behind his head, laying back on his pillows. Your eyes are drawn down to his cock, laying against his thigh and soft again. Ugh. You still want it to be inside of you.

“Maybe,” Cole replies easily, knowing that his vagueness is frustrating. He wiggles his own eyebrows at you, smirking at your glare. “You’ll have to wait and see, won't ya?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Caufield.”

“Well, you’ll die happy.” Cole sends you a little wave, scrunching his nose in a way that’s far too cute and unfair considering you have to leave. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Cole.”

You escape the frat house without running into any of the other guys, mercifully. As you walk toward your place, you pull your phone out of your pocket to text your best friend.

Well, Cole isn’t fucking other girls

How do you know?

……… he told me

Good fucking God Y/N I thought we decided you weren’t going to sleep with him anymore

Too late

note: this is me. living vicariously. through my own writing. i miss you cole. why are you a dom in all of my recent fics. that's hot. i think it's probably because i'm manifesting.

I NEED A FRAT BOY TO SLEEP IN MY BED AND MAKE ME MISERABLE ASAP!! I'VE BEEN TOO NORMAL!! SOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE ME GO CRAZY and i nominate cole caufield

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#cole caufield #cole caufield smut #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield x y/n #cc22 #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lemotmo · 4 months ago

Note

I think parts of that fandom are kind of in a tailspin of reality at the moment. Her ask box is still closed but this is OUCH

My friend received an ask telling him that he can't hold that deleted clip against Tommy because it's not technically canon since it was deleted. In the same ask they told him he had to give Tommy credit for letting Buck set the pace. Sweetie, you can't pick and choose what parts of a deleted clip you can claim are canon and what parts you can ignore. That's not how it works. The part of that clip that is absolutely canon is the repeated pattern, in non deleted scenes, of blatant dismissal on Tommy's part regarding any type of conversational depth when it comes to the topic of Buck and their relationship. I don't need a deleted clip to prove that's what's happening.

A couple of things are fairly obvious here. The traffic on that post is not what it would have been even 3 weeks ago. That's the first thing. Yes the numbers were decent but not great and certainly not impressive. They are representative of a small fandom, which is what you are. The second thing is they didn't trend on Twitter or Tumblr following the post, something that definitely would have happened a few weeks ago, and a barometer his fans constantly like to use as 'proof' of popularity. So something has shifted/happened. It could be that all the people screaming that they had been blocked by the official show account were being honest and the account moderators figured out their spamming game. Something that was always going to happen eventually given the kind of things they were openly admitting they were saying and sending. The Buddie fandom figured it out weeks ago and quickly started making up the commenting ground on the posts, they also, wisely, stopped engaging with the Buck/Tommy comments on those same posts. So it was only a matter of time before they became drowned out anyway. Meaning the numbers were always artificially inflated and once they weeded out the duplicate accounts the numbers naturally decreased. Or the more likely scenario, the hype faded. Something that was also always going to happen.

Anytime a show has 2 men kissing it's going to be talked about. People will watch it. Get excited over it. Want more of it. But if the show doesn't provide content of some kind, the excitement from the wider group at large, dwindles. My ask box, along with my friend groups ask boxes, pretty much confirm that the die hard shippers don't really care about the couple. They ship Lou. Buck and Oliver are just the character/actor Lou is paired with. Look at their behavior towards Oliver. He didn't engage with them, he doesn't promote the pair, and he doesn't follow Lou, so they openly turned against him. That was never going to be sustainable from a large numbers perspective. The audience cares about Buck not Tommy. It was never a smart strategy. Making it almost exclusively about Lou was never going to end well. The frantic posting following the release of the clip trying to explain why it was actually a good thing that Tommy doesn't care what the 118 thinks of him, when anyone with just a passing knowledge of the show knows it's actually a very bad sign, tells me all I need to know. You're aware of the reality of what the show, THUS FAR, is doing. Only it doesn't match the content you paid $200 to hear, my apologies $169 to hear, so you feel cheated. That's not Oliver's fault. That's not the show's fault. And it's why I'm more certain each day that Tim put a stop to it. Those videos created an unmitigated disaster for everyone not named Lou.

I also think some people genuinely don't understand the size difference between the two fandoms. The Buddie fandom makes up a significant number of their audience as a whole. Their fans are not all on Tumblr and Twitter. They have general audience fans. That is not an exaggeration. And it's something the show is more than aware of. Do not try to pretend the show doesn't know that. The general audience/passive fans, like them as a unit. It's just a fact. And never, until now, has a group tried so hard to pretend they aren't an audience favorite. They are. I also think there's quite a few fans like me. I don't classify myself as a shipper. I want the best story for the characters I love, Buck and Eddie. I like Tommy for the larger Buck and Eddie story I think they're using his character to set up. Once it's been set, I don't need or care to have Tommy stick around. Once the newness of the Buck/Tommy pair settled lots of casual shippers were always going to make their way back to the Buddie side. It's the side with all the context. It's also the side the actor/character the show cares about is on. And I promise you Oliver gets a say. Ryan gets a say. Lou doesn't get a say. Paid for headcanons don't get a say.

Ooooof, well--

Nothing to add to this one I think, so I'll wisely stay quiet. Thank you anonymous OP for being so based in reality. :)

Thank you for sending this to me Nonny. It's appreciated, as always.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #season 8 speculation #buddie speculation #insight into 911 fandom & season 7 and 8 #911 abc #nonnies galore #again I am tagging this buddie because I too believe that T is set up as plot device for Buddie

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere Greek Heroes - Profile

‘‘You are the cause of all this destruction, honey. Watch and smile.‘‘ - Greek Heroes.

❝⚡️— lady l: yes, I know, it took me a long time to do this and I sincerely apologize. I started doing this a while ago but I always had to take breaks on account of other matters and this yandere profile was forgotten. I hope you forgive me! I made the main Greek heroes and some extras, but not all of them are here because it would be too big. I will do the female part and, if anyone wants, I can do part two of the male Greek heroes with other characters. Good reading and sorry for any mistakes!!

❝tw: yandere themes in general, dub-con, possessive and obsessive behavior, manipulations, mentions of mental breakdown. If you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes, I recommend not reading.

❝⚡️word count: +2,5k

OBSESSIVE

Hercules, popularly known by his roman name but his greek name is Heracles and in some versions Alcides, is a bastard son of the god Zeus and the mortal Alcmene. He is best known for having completed the Twelve Labors.

"Me and you, my love, let's just hold each other today. No going out."

Hercules is an obsessive and possessive bastard, he is very paranoid and jealous. You are not allowed to leave his side.

You can say anything about Hercules, as long as it doesn't involve you. Beat him, call him names, curse him, but never, under any circumstances, drag your name into the fray.

There's nothing he wouldn't put up with for you. This man would do anything for his darling, he is not afraid or hesitant to kill, torture, disembowel anyone who gets in his way. On your way.

He became paranoid after killing his entire family in an act of insanity, so he's terrified of accidentally ending up killing you. If he thought about hurting you, Hercules would back away. Just the thought of you dying drives him crazy.

He's overprotective too, not letting you go out without him and when you do he scans every passer-by thoroughly, just to make sure they don't hurt you. You can never be too cautious.

Hercules is a suffocating and obsessive yandere, he will never be far from you. The demigod will always be watching you like a shadow.

There's no way you can run away from it. Just allow yourself to be loved obsessively by Hercules.

"I... I just love you so much, Y/N. I love you in ways you cannot imagine."

Kinks: breeding kink, dom.

Nicknames: my love, my Queen/King.

POSSESSIVE

Achilles is the son of the nereid Thetis and King Peleus. He is considered one of the greatest warriors of Ancient Greece and is known to have participated in the Trojan War.

"...why are you fighting with me, baby? That bastard deserved to be spanked! He dared to flirt with you and I'm the only one allowed to do that."

Achilles is one of the most possessive greek heroes of all. His jealousy, however, is often out of control and he almost ends up beating people he considers a threat to your love to death.

To say that Achilles is possessive is a huge understatement, because he is so much more than that. He cries out for your attention 24 hours a day, every day of the year. For this hero, having your attention and devotion directed only to him never hurts. He is revered by all as one of the greatest warriors of all time, he is used to attention and expects nothing less from you.

Achilles is a warrior, body and soul, so there isn't much kindness in him, but the hero goes out of his way to be good to you. He tries hard not to hurt or scare you, his big, callused hands will be nothing more than feathery, touching you gently as if he's too scared of losing you and hurting you.

He is known to be vindictive and that is true, Achilles will take revenge on anyone and anything if anything happened to you, what he did to Hector is nowhere near what he will do to anyone who dares to lift a finger at you.

Achilles however does have some qualities and one of them is his devotion towards you, he is completely loyal to you and only you, he will follow you wherever you go. He wants to take care of you and he will. This man will do anything for you, just ask.

''It's so sweet that you think you can run away from me, my princess/prince. I think that's adorable, you know? That hope you carry, but don't worry, I don't mean to ruin it. Not yet, at least.''

Kinks: dom, rough sex and role play (don't ask me why)

Nicknames: sweetie, Princess/Prince.

DELIRIOUS

Theseus was a great Athenian hero, best known for defeating the Minotaur. He was the son of Aegeus, king of Athens and Aethra.

"I love you so much, my love, and I can't wait for the day when I can hold you in my arms every day. You can't wait either, can you? But I promise the wait will be worth it."

Theseus is one of the greatest greek heroes of all time, his strength and history are well known. He is a delusional yandere, daydreaming about his darling every minute of his day.

You are on the hero's mind day and night, all the time, he couldn't stop thinking about you. He just wasn't able to do it, so he didn't try to fight it, but chose to feed his own obsession.

Theseus met you after it was he who saved you from being sacrificed to the Minotaur and from that day forward he found himself thinking of you constantly. Many times these thoughts wandered, questioning whether you were fine, even how it would be if you and he had children. All thoughts were focused on him and you, the two of you together like a true couple.

Theseus would spoil and love you, like you should be loved and spoiled, like the fucking goddess/god he's sure you are.

Theseus isn't usually very possessive, he knows how perfect he is, he's full of himself and he laughs at the thought of you flirting with another man or woman. He was enough for you and you for him, there's no way you can think of another man with him by your side. But that doesn't mean he doesn't get jealous, because he does, but not so easily and he's downright cocky when he's jealous, pettyly criticizing his rival.

He is loving and caring when he gets what he wants and he always gets what he wants. He really is in love with you, in a yandere and obsessive way, but he is and Theseus will do anything to see you smile.

Just be careful with your choices, because he won't let you go as his obsession and desire for you grows more and more.

''I love your smile, my baby, your perfect face becomes even more beautiful when you're smiling. Please keep smiling at me always.''

Kinks: dom, adoration (he adoring you).

Nicknames: Baby, Goddess/God.

CONTROLLER

Bellerophon was a Greek hero most worshiped in the cities of Lydia and Corinth. He was best known for riding Pegasus. Son of Poseidon and was adopted by Glaucus, king of Ephyra.

''I'm perfect and so are you. We're both made for each other, can't you see that? There is no one better than me for you and no one more perfect than you for me. We will stick together.''

He is best known for his arrogance, after comparing himself to the gods themselves and deciding to go live on Mount Olympus, which was the cause of his death. He is a controlling and obsessive yandere, going so far as to lock up his darling if he can do it.

Bellerophon is the very definition of arrogant and greedy, these are characteristics that describe them very well. He is greedy for his sweetheart and glory, he wants to be the most worshiped and he demands this worship from his sweetheart and he will get irritated if he doesn't get it.

He's not the possessive type and it's rare for him to get jealous. aiming that he knows he is the one for his darling and there is nothing to be afraid of. They were his as much as he is theirs. It is so and it will always be so.

Bellerophon is an extremely controlling yandere, if he could, he would even control your breathing. He wants to know everything about his darling, they shameful stories to they darkest secrets and desires, everything. He doesn't want you to hide anything from him and will not tolerate secrets as you are his and as such you must be transparent to her with your desires and thoughts.

Needless to say, he is suffocating because only the gods themselves know how much this man is always glued to your side. He is always with you, breathing down your neck and watching your every move like an eagle.

There's no escaping him, not when Bellerophon is always glued to your hip.

''You are mine, your every thought belongs to me, everything about you is mine. And I don't share.''

Kinks: rough sex and suffocating his darling.

Nicknames: Love, Darling.

DEVOTEE

Orpheus was a great musician and poet of Ancient Greece. He is best known for going to the Underworld to seek his beloved and failing in the process. He is the son of Calliope, a Greek muse, and the god Apollo.

"Not even the muses could inspire me to sing a song about you. There aren't enough words to sing about my love for you."

If there's one thing we can say about Orpheus it's how passionate and devoted he is to his beloved, his love for you has never wavered through all the years and never will. He loves you completely, soul, body and heart, he gives himself to you with his whole being.

Orpheus loves too much and that is his greatest downfall. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, for the person he's obsessively in love with, and that could be dangerous.

He won't rest until he makes you happy, he loves to sing songs and read poems to you and they are all about how he feels about you.

Orpheus is a simple man, he just wants to live his life with you forever if he can. There aren't many mysteries to his obsession with you, just that he's willing to do anything for you and your love. He's not in favor of murder, but for you, he'd kill anyone.

"I love you more than I can put in poems and songs. Please never leave me, I couldn't imagine my life without you by my side."

Kinks: breeding kink (he would love to have kids with his darling).

Nicknames: Muse (ironic, I know), Princess/Prince, love.

OBSESSIVE

Adonis was considered one of the most handsome men in Greek Mythology. Son of the incestuous relationship of Cinyras and Myrrha, according to Ovid, but in Hesiod's version he is the son of Phoenix and Alphesiboea. He was the mortal lover of Aphrodite and, in some versions, of Persephone as well.

"I will never let you go even if I wanted to. We belong together forever."

Adonis is completely obsessed with you, he knows everything about you and he lives fantasizing about his life with his darling. You are everything to him, this man can no longer live without you. He just can't and doesn't want to.

His biggest dream is to marry his sweetheart and if he gets the chance he will. Adonis adores you deeply and no one knows why. Maybe it's because you're the one who isn't focused on his looks anymore or just because he fell in love with you at first sight, according to him.

He's very possessive of you and doesn't even try to hide it, it's not like he wants to either. You are his and everyone should know that, including you. If the love bites and suck marks on your body don't speak for themselves, Adonis will do so.

Because he is very obsessive, Adonis will never give up on you, not even in death. You belong together and that's forever and ever.

Don't worry though, he is very loving and clingy to you and will always be there for you. Whether for better or for worse, Adonis will never leave you alone.

"My love for you is greater than my beauty."

Kinks: adoration, daddykink/mommykink (don't ask me).

Nicknames: Love, Baby.

DELIRIOUS

Perseus is one of the most famous greek heroes. He is best known for having beheaded Medusa. Son of Zeus and the mortal princess Danae.

"I could never hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Perseus is the very definition of a delusional yandere, he dreams of his darling 24 hours a day, awake or asleep, you are always in the demigod's thoughts. And he doesn't even try to hide that he's thinking about you.

And why should he? He is very obsessive and insistent in his obsession with you, he doesn't intend to ever let you go. Perseus can't live without you anymore, not without his reason to live. Don't you understand that? You are everything to him, everything.

Perseus cannot live without you. He knows it, you know it, everyone knows it. If something were to happen to you he would go into a deep state of despair and rage.

You can't disappear... Unless you want a lot of people to suffer with your choices, because Perseus won't stop until he has you all to himself. He won't stop until he has all his fantasies fulfilled. And he will cut down anyone who dares to get in his way.

You are the reason for his entire existence and Perseus will never leave you. He will never stop dreaming and raving about you. Never.

Stay with him. Perseus will make sure you never lack for anything. He is so unconscious in his obsession with you that there is nothing he doesn't want more than your happiness. Beside him, of course.

"Our love is strong enough for your petty form of denial. You know you don't really mean it, my princess/prince. You love me and I love you. Always."

Kinks: worship kink, slight degradation and humiliation.

Nicknames: Princess/Prince, love.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Jason is a greek hero son of Aeson. He is best known for being on the ship of the Argonauts and having married Medea.

"The world is a very dangerous place, my love. I cannot and will not allow anything to hurt you. I promise you."

Jason has seen a lot of bad things and bad people, so he developed a very strong paranoia about your safety. He acts incandescently around his obsession. He is always very alert and constantly scanning the environment around you closely.

He just doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. Is this so wrong? Is it so wrong that he doesn't want anyone to look at you? Touch you? No, it's not. Jason knows it's not wrong, he's just doing all this because he loves you so, so much.

And it is his duty, as your only protector, to protect and love you with all his might. And he will do his duties, his duties with all the pleasure in the world. Jason would do anything for you.

He would die for you, he would kill for you. He exists for you, he longs for you. He wants you. All of you.

"You are very important to me. I will protect you with everything I have."

Kinks: degradation and slight breeding kink.

Nicknames: Love, Darling, Baby.

STALKER

Patroclus was the son of Menoetius. Best known for having acted in the Trojan War, where he was killed by Hector.

"I will follow you to Hades to never be separated from you."

Patroclus is a great stalker, he will literally follow you to Hades itself without any kind of hesitation. He also knows everything about you, absolutely everything. Your secrets will become his secrets. Your desires will become his desires.

Everything that belongs to him will belong to you. You and him. The two of you and it will always be like this.

He is a big soft yandere for you, but only for you. This man would never, under any circumstances, hurt you. He could never and never wants to hurt you, he cares for you more than anything, he loves you more than anything, how could he even dare to think about hurting you?

You are everything to him, absolutely everything. All that is his is also yours, all that you want will be yours. He's willing to do anything for you, no matter what the consequences, because at the end of the day, you're the only thing that really matters.

It's you who really has all the power over him, you're the only person Patroclus wants and is willing to commit atrocities to keep you by his side. Only you, you hold all the power and control and he's happy about that.

He loves you and that's what he tells himself when he goes to sleep, that everything he did is in the name of your love, nothing will have been in vain for you.

Patroclus would never hurt you, but be very careful with him, because he can misinterpret your words and this can lead to irreparable actions. It will all depend on you, in the end, and he will always be there for you.

‘‘Everything I've done... Everything I do is for you, my love, and it will always be for you.’‘

Kinks: worship, pet names and breeding kink.

Nicknames: Love, Honey, Sweet.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Hector was one of the main trojan warriors during the Trojan War. He was a prince of Troy, one of the children of King Priam and Queen Hecuba.

''I can't let you out, I can't and I won't risk your safety. It's all for your own good.''

Hector is an extremely overprotective yandere of his darling, he gets paranoid just seeing a scratch on your skin, breaking a nail or just sneezing. He goes crazy with worry when he sees something that shouldn't be there, that he knows shouldn't be there.

He will overreact if you get hurt, even if it's harmless. You are everything to him and he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you, ever. He will take care of you, he will always protect you.

Always.

You'll basically have a bodyguard, so Hector is always at your side, watching your surroundings carefully. Danger is always lurking and he will be damned if he lets any enemy try to harm him.

Anyone who tries to harm you will be dead immediately, but not before suffering a painful and well-deserved torture. No one can think of hurting you, let alone actually doing it. Hector will make sure anyone who threatens you is dealt with hard and fast, he will always have be your protector.

That man would die if anything happened to you, just the thought of it makes him sick with worry. You are everything to him and Hector will make sure you are loved and protected. He will do everything for you.

''Please let me take care of you. It's all I ask, all I need for peace is to have you safe..."

Kinks: breeding kink.

Nicknames: Y/A (your nickname), Love.

MANIPULATOR

Cadmus was a legendary phoenician founder of Boeotinan Thebes. During his time, he was one of Greece's greatest heroes and monster slayers. He was a phoenician prince, son of King Agenor and Queen Telephassa of Tyre.

''You are so blessed to have me, to have my love. Feel honored.''

Cadmus is a great manipulator, he knows very well how to use his... gifts to manipulate you, to control you. And that makes him happy, because you are his, wich means, you are his to manipulate.

He cares about you a lot, he loves you and that's why he wants to have complete control of you so he can keep you with him. Cadmus will never admit it but he's scared to death that you'll abandon him, that you'll leave him and if that happened he'd break, you're everything to this man and he won't let you leave his arms.

Everything he does is for you and will always be for you. For your sake. He has no qualms when it comes to you and will act violently if someone tries to steal you from him.

Cadmus loves you and that alone is enough for him. He doesn't quite understand his feelings but this desire, this obsession he has for you robs him of any good judgment he may have. Everything is you. From the moment he saw you, it's you and it will always be you.

He doesn't like to hurt and would rather make you suffer mentally than physically because it's safer to see you break down and have a mental breakdown than having you bleed out. Besides, he doesn't want to ruin your beautiful skin with scars.

Cadmus can be very dangerous and unstable when it comes to you, so be careful around him. His manipulations are dangerous but can keep you safe from his wrath.

''I'm doing all this because I love you and you know it.''

Kinks: degradation, dom.

Nicknames: Sweetie, Beautiful.

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m1ssunderstanding · 10 months ago

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 13

Ah it’s “coordinate with the carpet” day.

John could probably say “2+2=3” and Paul would be like “Oh you're sooo right, John.”

Literally the ADHD antics (jumping over a chair because it’s there and you can and it would be funner than going around) are so relatable.

Ringo putting Zac’s picture up? I don’t know much about him as a dad. Does anyone know? I mean I know part of the reason he and Mo left india was because they missed their kids, and in late 66 when John was making HIWTW and Paul was working on TFW and George was off learning filthy eastern ways, Ringo stayed home and ‘enjoyed the baby’. Was he a really good dad?

John: I really liked how that lead singer was singing so soft and nice. Paul: like this, John? Like this? John? John, look at me, do you like this?

Literally why are you even there, Yoko. Like, genuinely, not for the bands sake or anything, but for your own sake, go find somewhere else to be! Something, something, one of the few ways to find success as a woman was to attach yourself to a man and she was hustling with the best feminist tools available okay, okay. Ugh, I just don't know if I could stomach it.

I heard John say “Rickie and the Red Streaks” and I was like, ummm, did you mean “Suzie and the Red Stripes”? But apparently it’s a real band. They were in the same Cavern show as the Beatles when they came back from Hamburg but never made it big. And Paul was purposely referencing them with Linda's pretend band because, as he said, he would have been happy to just have been them instead of the Beatles.

“John, can you take a little bit of bass off your guitar?” The faces. Paul told him to take some bass off a minute ago, didn't he? Or he just knows how much John hates to be told that. Anyway it's the silent communication for me.

Paul: *stops his little wordless moan-singing for two seconds*. John: Everybody had a wet drea–SING, Paul! Paul: Ooohh yeah! He’s sooo happy I’m melting. Paul McCartney wants one thing in this life, and it’s for John Lennon to tell him to sing.

“He would’ve been president, you know.” John, bless your naive, lovely heart.

Paul: shrieking. John: moves the microphone the way a mom takes the sharpie out of her toddler’s hand.

“If you can get ‘em off Mimi’s wall.” I have a hard time with Mimi. Sometimes she’s adorable. Sometimes she’s horrible. I really can’t get a read. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe John couldn’t either.

This moment. My little ND baby. Someone just hit your g spot, didn’t they? But to be fair, it is incredibly impressive. Billy has never heard the song before, and he just jumps in with the perfect fill? I love Billy. So talented, such a cutie, so cool, so kind. And look at him. Having such a good time.

The silent communication again here. “Are you hearing this?” “Yeah, baby, I’m hearing this.” Then, John vocalizes the decision. How many Beatles decisions were made like this? Thinking specifically of Brian's account of their decision for him to manage, but probably this happened constantly.

Yoko reading “The Beatles Complete History”. I love that she’s like, “Everything John tells me is ‘Paul this, Paul that, wah, wah, wah’. I need to get some cold hard facts.”

Billy’s piano actually is insanely sexy though.

John: *complains about his rock and roll finger* Paul, turning up the scouse: Come on, son, now try your hardest. John continues, soft, needy' Lookie, look at him. *holding up his finger* Paul, genuine: Ah, I know. I just love the different ways they take care of each other.

Poor George, dissociating himself into another dimension as John’s crooning about Paul’s eating habits. Look. At. How. He’s. Looking. At. Him. You’d think Paul was in that moment creating the heavens and the earth. Nope. Just rocking back and forth like a catatonic, probably getting crumbs all in his greasy beard.

But seriously HOW is everyone in this room watching these two men, taking in to account all of their behaviors, scream "All I want is you!" at each other and not forcing them immediately into either fucking or therapy or both?!

Ringo’s holey pocket, my beloved.

The guy with the RP accent and the suit coming up to John like the bad guy in every American children’s movie. “I’ve spoken to Mr. Klein.” Dun, dun, dun.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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writingsofwerewolves · 9 months ago

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Even with a broken keyboard, I managed to write 5k words of soft werewolf noncon.

Here's the first 1k words of it. Unedited, so please be kind. Plus a few details are probably gonna change to account for some stuff later...

But here's a little sample.

A free trip across the country. I should’ve known it sounded too good to be true. By the time I realized, it was far too late. I’d already signed the contract.

“For the next three days, you all belong to the werewolves aboard this train,” the woman explained as we crowded into a small room for the orientation. “You will do as they say. For the next seventy two hours, your bodies belong to them. Understood?”

Around me, there was a chorus of “yes ma’am’s,” a lot of which sounded bored. In fact, many of them looked as if they’d been through the same speech a million times. Maybe they had.

“We have some special guests on this trip,” the woman continued and a few of my fellows perked up, “So I want you all to be on your best behavior. Now, get to work.”

With the dismissal, a door was opened and everyone started filing out, a few of them murmuring excitedly to each other.

“Who do you think it is?” one of the men whispered to a shorter woman, “One of the Alpha’s agents?”

“I heard the Alpha himself was coming,” she replied.

“Hush now!” the director woman snapped.

When the room was nearly empty, I stepped towards her, “Umm… ma’am?”

She looked down at me, an impatient eyebrow raised.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” I said in a small voice, “I didn’t know what I was signing when—”

“You signed the contract, didn’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, but I was told—”

“You didn’t read it?”

“I was in a hurry and the lady said it was—”

“Not my problem,” she held up a hand, “You signed the contract. You’re legally bound to it, whether you read it or not. Now get out there. You have guests to tend to.”

“But I’m… I’ve never…”

She heaved a heavy sigh, gripped my shoulders, spun me around and marched me forward, out the door.

In the train car, several werewolves were lounging in chairs, drinks in hand, and some already had a human companion in their laps. My eyes widened in horror when I saw one of the humans had already been forced to his knees, his head between the legs of a werewolf woman while her fingers knotted in his hair, grinding his face against her crotch.

“New to this, sweetie?” a voice sounded beside me.

I jumped as a hand wrapped around my arm and dragged me closer to a large, warm body.

“Don’t worry, baby,” the werewolf man murmured, leading me over to one of the chairs, “I’ll take care of you.”

He sat and pulled me into his lap, his hand squeezing my ass possessively, making me yelp with surprise.

“Please don’t,” I said in a small voice, struggling against his hold, “Please, I’m… I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Mmm,” he rumbled, pressing his nose into my neck, “I think you’re supposed to be right here.”

His hand moved from my ass to between my legs.

I desperately tried to push him away and said, “I’ve never done this. Please…”

He paused, pulling back to look in my eyes, “You’re a virgin?”

I swallowed dryly and nodded.

A wicked smile broke out on his face, “Well then I just won the lottery.”

I fought back a sob as he ducked his head again, nibbling at my neck. His hand was still between my legs, rubbing circles over my clit through my clothes. I’d never been touched like that by anyone before. And my first time was by a stranger whose name I didn’t know, who didn’t know my name, and who only saw me as a sex toy.

Yet, I couldn’t help the whimpers of pleasure. It felt good to be touched for the first time. For the hand on my clit to not be my own or a vibrator.

Just seventy two hours… three days… and I’d be free. The train would arrive and I’d be free. I just had to put up with it for three days.

While the man continued to rub me through my clothes, he spoke to his fellow werewolves, many of whom also had humans on hand. He talked as if he wasn’t actively violating me in front of everyone, only occasionally ducking his head to nibble at me while someone else talked.

I kept my eyes averted from everyone else. I didn’t want to see how many people were witness to my shame. I couldn’t handle it.

Eventually, one of the man’s hands made its way under my shirt and started squeezing my breast. I whined and squirmed, trying to dislodge his hand, but it was no good. He held me still with one arm while assaulting me with his other hand.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” a deep voice sounded from above me.

“Oh… uh… Of course, sir,” the werewolf holding me said quickly and I suddenly found myself being pushed out of his lap, onto my feet.

I swayed, unsteady from the abrupt change, only to be caught by new hands around my upper arms.

“All yours,” the man that had been holding me said.

I looked up at the new werewolf. He was extremely tall and clearly very thickly built under his nicely fitted suit. He held me at arm’s length for a moment, his eyes looking me up and down before he inclined his head towards the previous werewolf.

“Thank you, Robert,” he said.

“Of course, sir,” the previous werewolf said quickly, “Whatever you need.”

The new werewolf scooped me into his arms, cradling me to his broad chest, as he walked through the train car.

“I can walk on my own,” I told him, struggling in his hold.

“I am certain you can,” he said with a rich chuckle, “But I wish to carry you, pup.”

I pursed my lips at the pet name, “I’m not a pup.”

He smiled, but said nothing as he moved to one of the chairs and sat, continuing to cradle me in his arms.

“Let me go,” I said, pushing at his chest to try to get away.

He raised an eyebrow, “If you leave my possession, another werewolf will take you for their own. Did you perhaps prefer Robert?”

I glanced back towards where the previous werewolf was. He had already found another human, his hand in the woman’s pants.

“N-no,” I stuttered out, “I’m not supposed to be here at all.”

“You signed the contract, yes?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know what it was for.”

“Unfortunate. Still, as I said, if you leave my possession, another werewolf will take you and I do not want that. For the remainder of this trip, you belong to me, pup.”

I fought back a sob and nodded my understanding.

Just three days. Three days and I would be free.

Unlike the previous werewolf, my new captor didn’t touch me between my legs as he began speaking to the other werewolves. He held me to him with one hand while the other ran up and down my thigh, which was still more intimate than I liked, but it was better than having my clit touched in a room full of strangers.

I didn’t want to listen to the conversations around me. I wanted to completely check out. I rested my forehead against the man’s collarbone, closing my eyes and desperately trying to forget where I was. The werewolf’s hand on my thigh didn’t let me forget. I was acutely aware of the contact.

“A moment, pup,” he murmured in my ear, “I need to conduct some business in private.”

Before I knew it, I was being hauled gently to my feet. The werewolf took myhand and led me over to the corner of the train car, where a few other humans were sitting. He guided me to a chair and gestured for me to sit.

He bent down and kissed my forehead, “I will return shortly. Behave yourself.”

I nodded numbly and he smiled and turned, leaving the train car with a few other werewolves at his side. As soon as he was gone, the two other humans there leaned towards me.

“How’d you do it?” the woman asked in a hushed but excited tone.

“Do… what?” I asked, hugging myself protectively.

“Bag the Alpha,” the man said in disbelief, “I’ve been doing this for five years and I’ve never seen him take on a human before.”

I felt my eyes widen fearfully, “The… Alpha…? Like the Alpha?”

The pair of them nodded, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

“You really didn’t know?” the woman asked, “Wow… You must be oblivious. He’s only the most famous werewolf in the whole fucking world.”

My face warmed with shame and anxiety. The Alpha...what the fuck?

“He probably overheard that they’re a virgin,” the man commented to the woman.

“Really?” she looked at me, brow furrowed, “You’re a virgin?”

“I’ve… never had sex,” I whispered.

“Fuck,” the woman groaned, “If I’d known that was all it’d take to get the Alpha’s attention, I would’ve saved myself.”

My face burned further.

The werewolf that had laid claim to me returned to the car, walking straight towards me. He held his hand out to me.

As I looked up at him, really looked at him, I realized I did recognize him. I’d seen him on the news plenty of times. I just hadn't been expecting to see him there.

“Come with me, pup,” he said, his voice soft.

The humans beside me gave me a look of jealousy and disbelief.

#unknown's writing

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olderthannetfic · 6 months ago

Note

(spellchecking this was a nightmare; I got sent this a while back as a response to a topic I commented on, where I basically agreed there is an oversaturation issue of a specific nature form not friendly people making the community they clam to be supporting look bad in the process. I agree with them but what is your take?)

First off no hate intended but I sometimes forget form past experiences that Mod (s) form a specific blog get bit heated around the shipper issue. (Fujoshi is the proper term for this specific shipper type; but tumblr has issues with that term being used in its proper context. there is actually a darker reason why this became a term its a Idol culture rabbit hole to be saved for later.) As for the topic I genuinely believe that they can't really relate to this topic without proper context. A great deal of this is probably because they defend who they should not and I will do my best to explain this issue without calling anyone out. No hate intended, I like to see the best in people and encourage that to grow more as individuals. The fandom in question is pretty small but the issue is not. There are other fandoms that can relate thou this one is for a game genre. I can't fathom why people defend other users for this horrible behavior towards others just because they ship the only popular guy on guy ship in the fandom.

Lets start by providing context, there are two different types of user here the kind that just mind their business and enjoy their ship, these ones are not the issue, and (lets call them Troublemakers since tumblr hates the term. The term literally means "Filthy Girl" and more importantly I know why it means this but that is somewhat irrelevant here and not the topic.) Basically I really want to understand why no one is calling out their vile behavior because to me its just as bad to not hold them accountable for the bad things they do just because they throw around a trigger or two. I am not saying they can not better themselves, just that not frowning upon their actions does not help them.

Sorry for the long clarification I just wanted to make this clear before getting to the topic because this is about a specific set of individuals, not he group as a whole and I think some people forget that this is a thing with said group. The inconvenient truth is there is a good and bad way to handle it, ignoring the issue and praying it goes away is not a way to handle it.

NOW FOR THE STORY: Because it is a general issue we shall improvise with names, it also makes cleanup easer). In this Game story the ML (Author) and the FL (Gwen) are portrayed as having a deeper bond, the only other character (Lance) also has a deep bond but is a different relationship entirely and you can tell form the interactions hinted at the the deep lore.

During the course of the story Lance becomes cannon fodder for Author's development after he makes a bad deal; yet his tragedy is not a total loss for Lance as lore in this story says Lance IS able to warn Author of a plot form his father that would lead to Author being turned into a literal human puppet.

Here is where the Trublemakers come in, They have been drawing people into the fandom claiming that a offshoot of the story in question that is teased could be centered around Author and Lance as a couple to spite the writers of this series saying if Author were to get with anyone it would be Gwen.

They also mention that is not where they want Authors story to go. Basically developers were saying that the romantic openness is just that an openness to interpret the relationship as romantic and something they only put with Gwen and Author. They also clarify that Authors relationship with Lance before Author has to end him is a "Brothers in Arms" one thou they are very close as friends they are not romantic.

Lances story is meant to be a tragedy as you discover Lance was not in the best of health in the game he even says he "Made a deal with a devil and regrets it" and it is hinted that this deal has taken his freedom form him rendering Lance nothing more than a tool for the Antagonist to use against Author in the end. When Author makes the final blow Lance thanks him for finally freeing him form his terrible fate. This isn't to dog on the ship but in the end the issue is the Trublemakers are ruining the chances of this small fandom to grow by trying push that this is a canon Pairing when its a tragedy that was meant to grow the Protagonists resentment towards his father who is hinted as being the devil in question. Something that is meant to progress to the final confrontation where the protagonist is given a choice to side with his father (become the human puppet) or rebel against him which leads to his fathers tragic end after the epic final battle of this story. This series is NOT sunshine and rainbows it is classified as a Dark Fantasy hence why we using fantasy references. and Cannon fodder like Lance is common in this genre. The concern is that the Trublemakers are creating false expectations for incoming fans about the series; sadly Lance is not likely to come back, thou he was developed as a character who could, as it is made abundantly clear that Lance in the end found his freedom in his passing. The Bad actors are making light of the fact Lance sacrificed himself to Warn Author and is in some since disrespectful to the writers as well who are trying to not falsely advertise the games story or genre. Oh but it gets worse; in the fandoms they are literally intimidating and bothering fans that refuse to shill the ship going after people who just do not post the things and that could be any reason what so ever there. It could even be personal preference we are talking full on attack mode, hiding behind a gray face, trashing people behind their back to people they interact with exc. So enter my dilemma; am I really wrong for thinking this behavior is bad? I do not feel as if its right to consider my stance here flawed or worthy of scorn and hate. My concern is not the ship existing but the bad actors that are in it being coddled when they behave just as vile as the "Unicorns" in the Idol fanbase trying to force real people to bone to appease their single sex couple fetishes. (That is literally why its so bad I did say it was a Rabbit hole, thou the term Hole is a gorse understatement of how deep.)

Ahahaha. What the actual fuck is this?

Am I understanding you that most of this is a c&p of something you received? Okay, then, let's break it down.

Okay, big picture:

It is bad to pressure creators to make your ship canon.

It is bad to pressure other fans to ship your ship or harass them for not posting enough about it.

But as for this little essay, no, of course I don't agree with it: It's so full of red flags it has barely any room for anything but red flags.

'Fujoshi' has a ~darker reason~? What? The history is simple: 2chan bros used a rude but kind of funny pun for women who were "spoiled"—i.e. undatable—because they liked m/m content. Those women found the pun amusing and reclaimed it for themselves. The end.

It's just the 'fu' from 'tofu' and is a pun on a homonym, 婦女子, that refers to a married woman. It's "rotten" like food going bad, not like moral depravity (though I'm sure the 2chan bros do think it's morally depraved for women not to cater to them).

Right off the bat, this is a red flag because it's trying to hint at some dark depths here that just are not present and are not a big deal. It's trying to set up a tone that the author has Special Knowledge and we should just trust them. Sheesh.

I am not saying they can not better themselves

And here we dive straight into "I'm just trying to help you" bullshit. This is condescending and creepy.

The description of the canon is convoluted and pointless. Brothers in arms is the main driver of oldschool m/m ships. Yes, of fucking course people are going to ship this.

"Baww, the creators said they didn't mean it that way!" What the actual fuck is this? Who cares what the creators think? Why is this essay fellating the idea of canon compliance?

"The het subtext was intentional!!!" is not an argument that anybody should be making because there is literally no reason fans should care which subtext was intentional when it comes to whether they ship something.

Almost the entire description of the canon could have been cut out to just leave:

"They have been drawing people into the fandom claiming that a offshoot of the story in question that is teased could be centered around Author and Lance as a couple to spite the writers of this series saying if Author were to get with anyone it would be Gwen."

Now... I think the second half of that is a reach. Are they actually doing it out of spite? What's the evidence? Canon's plot is not evidence.

Tinhats are a plague everywhere, they aren't usually doing it out of spite, and they aren't all m/m shippers. It's far more likely that a bunch of dummies are seeing shippy potential and extrapolating to think it's intentional and leading somewhere. Sherlock fandom was full of this. Many fandoms are.

But regardless, the first half does make sense as a complaint. If I'm understanding the situation correctly, some fans are bringing in new fans with false promises of canon m/m.

in the end the issue is the Trublemakers are ruining the chances of this small fandom to grow by trying push that this is a canon Pairing when its a tragedy that

Okay, you've lost me. You've lost every fan with a single particle of sense.

Don't talk about fandoms like you're talking about the third quarter profits of a corporation. That's obnoxious nonsense.

Either your fandom will grow organically or, most likely, it will not. Some annoying m/m shippers aren't the real reason: the fact that most things don't get that popular is the real reason.

Why aren't the het shippers or the gen fans able to draw in more people? Maybe the m/m ship is more interesting. Maybe these other fans should make more of an effort if they really want to treat fandom as a job or religious evangelism.

And moreover, who says tragedy and ships are opposites? Even canon ships! Even canon ships where someone died!

Look, I believe you/the person you're c&ping that this particular canon is not gearing up for "Lance" to come back, but considering how many fujoshi are still creaming themselves over The Untamed or Scum Villain, I really do not think that one of the dudes falling off a cliff or even dying for real is much of an impediment.

This is Tumblr, dude. Have you not seen that "Your greatest enemy will rise from the grave and never leave you alone" story? Come the fuck on!

If the canon's creators wanted to bring Lance back and make this BL, they could. If they prefer not to, that's fine.

The issue is entitled fans demanding that their vision be the creators' vision. Full stop.

The minute you try to hand-wring about the m/m aspect of it, you sound like a homophobic and/or misogynist douchebag. It does not matter what specific thing the demanding fans are demanding. It only matters if they're harassing people.

their single sex couple fetishes

And now we have the mother of all red flags!

Having sexual fantasies is not a ~fetish~. Clowns who think it is are not to be trusted. Does this person (you?) think that, what, idol band RPF fandoms are where the concept or term 'fujoshi' comes from? I have bad news about the levels of bonkers stalker bullshit the band guy/female self shippers pull, not to mention the bullying by people who just like a group and don't want anyone to like them the "wrong" way.

The issue is not horny thoughts. The issue is bullying and harassment.

What I'm hearing here is "Wah, wah, waaaah. Other fans of the game I like keep inviting their friends, and they all ship a ship I don't like! Won't someone think of the (near) canon het!"

That shit was tired and old in the 1970s. It's worse now.

If you cannot describe the harassment without resorting to all of this anti-m/m nonsense, you're never going to convince anyone that there's a problem.

If the issue is "These tinhats say X is going to be canon, but the creators have said it's not", ditch the other shit and just say that part.

M/M fans have dealt with the likes of the Johnlock Conspiracy before. We also hate annoying tinhats who create false expectations and over-promise canon m/m.

Just say:

It sucks when people pretend a canon is BL after the creators have said they aren't going to include m/m.

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