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#rem fic
remedyturtles · 5 months
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very short disaster twins drabble for @liketheletter-l
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“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Donnie didn’t look up from what he was doing, typing on his laptop at top speed. “Why would you be a worm?”
“Stop asking for specifics and answer the question.” Leo was sitting on the floor next to his bed. He’d shown up and refused to leave, even though it was four AM.
“I’m busy, Nardo.” Donnie said, rolling his eyes.
Leo pulled his knees closer to his chest. He didn’t look over at Donnie on the bed. “Come on, it’s an easy hypothetical meme dude, just answer the question.”
“Would I still love you if you were a worm?” Donnie repeated, incredulous. “What kind of meme is that?”
“Nevermind.” Leo squished his cheek as he turned his head away, oddly sad about it. “It presumes you love me right now, I guess.”
The room echoed with the sound of his laptop snapping shut. Donnie tossed it out the bed with a little bounce and joined his twin on the floor.
“Why are we being stupid down here?” Donnie asked, and wove his arm around Leo’s shoulders. He was cold, just in a sleep shirt and shorts. There were so many blankets for him to steal, why was he sitting on the ground?
“I’m not.” Leo protested, pathetically, still not looking his way.
“I would still love you if you were a worm.” Donnie replied, firm and unyielding. “I would put all of my effort into reversing whatever ridiculous situation turned you into a worm, and if I could not, then I would turn into a worm as well. And we’d be worms together.”
A hazy beat of 4AM silence. Leo turned his head to Donnie with shining, nearly teary eyes, and said in a wobbly voice, “We’d be worms together?”
“Yes, L.” Donnie tucked Leo’s head under his chin and ignored the dampness immediately on the collar of his shirt.
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missmisnomer · 1 month
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time keeps moving on
whether you want it to or not
@remedyturtles absolutely killing it with the latest chapters of their firefight fic. The last third of ch.37 was so fuckin eerie and tense and visually rich that I couldn't NOT make some art inspired by it. I've been hankering to draw something more experimental and dark lately, and this really scratched that itch!
Thanks for The Horrors™, Rem!
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scrletletter · 6 months
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remus lupin fic recs
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* contains smut
Red by @jamespottersdaisy
Your girl by @bettysupremacy
Mouse by @siriuslovebot
Alive and True by @nincompoopydoo
Gold dress by @curseofaphrodite
Lover’s Rock by @cosmal
Pomegranates by @curseofaphrodite
*Surprise! We’re Making Love by @ellecdc
Woven Together by @love-quinn
*frenemies with benefits by @theemporium
*enemies to lovers by @theemporium
Cocky Remus by @theemporium
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rbtlvr · 9 months
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smth for @remedyturtles new fic firefight! the twins ever <3 i'm sure they're fine
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evilkaeya · 28 days
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Hi everyone I woke up and realized I have the power to write literally anything I want to so I gave Light Yagami period cramps. Read here.
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crossistent · 1 year
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hi, @distort-opia how are you doing?
here are my REMS fanarts😊
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sad-leon · 10 months
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"It's so Ugly and I'm so Broken"
Ever since I drew the frame in my last Death Wish animatic, I've wanted to illustrate it. I meant to share the animatic with the illustration done, but that tree was giving me so much trouble
@remedyturtles
Ko-Fi || Patreon
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idsfantasy · 5 months
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Comic of end scene of chapter 2 of Jamais Vu by @jaewritesfic (quick premise summary is Rem gets time traveled forward 150 years during the SEEDS crash and runs into this weird outlaw guy who calls himself "Eriks" while looking for her kids. Rem grabbed his gun while he wasn't looking to be able to defend herself since she doesn't know who he is other than the whole dangerous outlaw part. Issue is she has no idea what she's doing lol)
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remwrites · 2 years
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*slides into your inbox with a rose between my teeth* hii. i'm asking you to consider: scarian, but one of them is some kind of a fucked up creature and the other is Just Some Guy learning many new things about themselves (*cough*monsterfucker*coughcough*). can be either people-eating vex Scar or biblically accurate Grian, both are fun in their own ways :3c
(don't feel obliged to write anything if it's not your thing, im just sharing my brainworms with u)
tripped and fell and wrote 3.5k. and there's probably gonna be more. whoops.
welcome to rem and szad's monsterfucker au. i told myself the whole time i was writing this that it wasn't going to be called that. here we are.
[]
Grian was never great at running.
He didn't have any shoes. His feet slipped, hands scraping the ground while his heart punched his chest in earnest. He just needed to be fast enough to get away, it didn't matter where, everywhere was better than here. He couldn't take the Watchers anymore, he couldn't take--
The heavy shackle on his ankle suddenly yanked taunt, and it was too late. He was pinned, dragged, and despite his struggles and screams brought back into the very place he was trying to escape.
"Traitors don’t get to leave.” The Watcher holding him said, serene.
Grian spit in their face.
It didn't seem to even faze them. “We tried so hard to rehabilitate you.”
Grian recognized where they were going and his heart dropped like a dead weight. Instead of continuing to struggle, he clamped his mouth shut and breathed heavily through his nose. If he screamed the whole way down, the monster would know he was coming.
This seemed to amuse the Watcher, who pulled Grian by his bound wrists and brought him to the pit. It was covered in cross-hatched metal, a small latch to drop the food down.
Grian was the food.
"Please." Grian said, a terrified whisper. "Don't."
"Will you cooperate now?"
“No.”
“Then you are no use to us.”
Fear pounded louder than his heart and against all sense he tried to flee one last time. Only to be wrenched immediately when the Watcher yanked the chain on his ankle, swinging him down with a stomach-swoop of momentum into the pit.
Grian landed face first into the dirt, teeth splitting his lip. A broken cry, curling around his bound hands that cut into his stomach. The latch shut with a resounding clang of metal, echoing in a haunting repetition. The Watcher mercilessly strode away and left Grian to his fate.
Silence. All Grian could hear was the pounding of his own heart and his ragged breath. Somewhere within the dark was the Vex. They kept him to dispose of any bodies, but there hadn't been any for a while. Here was his next meal, dribbling blood into the dirt.
Grian was so fucked. He pushed up on his aching hands, raising his head. No visible signs. Just dirt and the geometric squares cut from the only light source above. He dragged himself to the nearest wall, for the fallacy of protection, pulling his knees up and burying his face in his knees and waited for death.
Shivering. Quiet. Death didn't come. The pain and ache of leftover adrenaline. Grian raised his head, looking into the darkness of the pit. There was nothing.
He trembled, struggling for air, and his heart skipped a beat, then redoubled in fervour. On the opposite side of the pit, in the shroud of darkness, a pair of white eyes stared at him.
"I'm sorry to disturb you." Grian said, delirious, terrified. "Please don't eat me. I promise I'm not tasty."
A piercing white stare, not even so much as a blink. The hairs on the back of Grian's neck stood up.
"I'll just stay over here, and you'll stay over there, and we won't bother each other. Okay?" Grian said, slow, voice fabricating calm.
The eerie glowing eyes didn't move.
"Great." Grian hid his face back in his knees.
The silence almost seemed to reverberate around him, motionless airwaves prickling and pushing against his skin. There was a flood of blood down his chin from his lip, stinging with the dirt from his fall. Even if Grian wanted to do something about it, his hands were bound and there was a fucking Vex watching him from the other side of the pit.
The reminder restarted his panic. Grian looked up again and the eyes were gone. That was somehow worse.  He frantically looked around but didn't see anything.
"Where did you go?" Grian put a voice to his panic, because he talked when he was nervous. It was a terrible habit and it was imminently going to get him killed.
Then white eyes appeared, directly across from him in the darkness. Grian swallowed a cry, and said, "Hey, you're not going to eat me, right?"
The heavy silence remained. Then, slow and purposeful, the white eyes blinked.
Grian had never heard the Watchers refer to the Vex as anything but a mindless monster. However, Grian found that he did not agree with them on most things. Maybe this was just another thing.
"They suck, huh?" Grian said, bravely, pointed up through the metal grate. "They treated me like shit too. I'm sorry they've locked you in this pit, it's not very nice."
The white eyes didn't blink again. But Grian was on a roll, and he pretty much always figured he'd die running his mouth anyway.
He continued, "I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but they want you to kill me. So if you hate them like I do, I'd suggest not killing me. Then maybe we can see if there's a way to break out of here instead. Sound like a plan?"
That horrible, compressing silence. Grian bore it with as much grace as he could muster, pretending to be a lot more confident than he was. After an eon, the white eyes blinked again.
"Brilliant." Grian smiled, wobbly. "My name's Grian, what's yours?"
The white eyes vanished. Grian's heart dropped, but he didn't react, licking his lips and tasting pennies. Feeling cold from the drain of adrenaline, heart stuck in an uneven cadence.
A whisper beside him. Grian jumped, despite trying to keep his cool, and almost fell over in surprise.
The Vex was big. He was almost spectral, translucent, an ephemeral electric blue except for his white eyes, a heavy collar around his neck, and off-coloured scars intersecting over his form. His shape was mostly vague, with claws sharp like knives and more teeth than a mouth should fit.
"Hello." Grian said, tight, terror woven into his bones. "You're awfully close. I like my personal space."
The Vex hovered a moment, then moved back just a touch.
Hope sparked in Grian's chest. That meant something. He said, "Thank you, I appreciate it."
The Vex raised a giant hand and pointed to a large noticeable scar on his own face.
Grian stared at him, the point of his claw, mind not quite keeping up. He was still focused on the 'not being eaten' thing.
Then the Vex mouthed a word. No sound, but the faint attempt of showing a spectral tongue on the roof of his mouth. It could've been 'name'. Then he pointed to the scar again.
Everything about the situation became rapidly very different than what Grian had been thinking. He was not dealing with a mindless monster. He was dealing with someone who had a name, and that name was Scar.
"Your name is Scar." Grian said, with a touch of wonder.
Both white eyes shut. It took Grian a moment to realize the Vex was attempting a smile.
"Hello Scar." Grian said. "You understand me?"
A careful nod. Keeping a safe distance away.
"Can you speak?"
Scar shook his head. Those huge claws touched the collar around his throat.
"Oh no, that's awful." Grian leaned forward on his bound hands to look closer in the darkness. "What have they done to you?"
A visible hesitation, then that razor sharp claw reached towards him, half-curled, and pointed at Grian lip.
"Oh." Grian tried to wipe away the blood on his chin, using his wrist since his hands were still bound. "I pissed them off. I was trying to get away. Didn't work, obviously."
The Vex made a breathy noise and turned away. He floated along, disappearing into the darkness, but a moment later the white eyes flashed in waiting. That same breathy noise, like a summon.
Grian figured he had little to lose at this point. He struggled to his feet, the chain on his ankle dragging on the ground as he limped forward. He followed the Vex into the darkness, where his eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. In the corner the pit was more like a cave, with a running source of water pooling and draining out into the small cracks in the rock.
But it was running water. Grian knelt beside it and drank, throat dry and coated in copper. Then he tried to wash off all the blood from his face and clean his lip. It hurt like hell, stinging, and his bound hands didn't make it easy.
He had an audience of one, the two pricks of white watching him. He tried to shake his self-consciousness, reminding himself over and over that he had to stay calm. He had been given no reason to be afraid.
Scar came closer, and it was hard to stand beside the Vex because his presence was much larger, even when not solid. Grian felt his breath clog his throat, the ephemeral shape of a hand reaching towards his.
"What's up?" Grian asked, as the claws touched his wrist, pulling just a little. "Oh, okay."
He held his bound wrists out. Scar barely twitched his sharp claw and the ropes shredded, the bits falling to the floor.
Grian rubbed his red-ringed skin and looked at the destroyed rope, a little ill and intimidated. The Vex was that powerful, claws that sharp.
"Thank you." Grian said, carefully. "Do you want me to see if I can get your collar off?"
Scar didn't reply, but didn't move away either. Grian carefully reached up to pull on the metal, finding no visible seam. He frowned and muttered, "They must've got it on somehow."
Scar made a motion, like turning a key in a lock. Grian found the keyhole on the back of his neck and sighed.
"Sorry, I can't be more help." Grian said. "If only I had tools. I'm a great lockpick."
A low sound that Grian couldn't determine was good or bad. He stepped back from his inspection of the collar and gave Scar space, instead kneeling to inspect the chain around his own ankle. There was little they could do for that either, and Grian suspected it had tracking magic imbued in it -- the only reason he could think that they caught him leaving so quickly. If they were to attempt an escape a second time, he'd need it off first, just like they needed Scar's collar off.
"Let me think." Grian announced, and began to pace. He inspected the corners of the pit, looking at the narrow corners, the only exit being the overhead heavy metal grate. He stood underneath and stared up, heart drumming his carotid artery as he considered how fucking ridiculous the situation was. Then he walked to the other side, where Scar had been watching him initially. There was a corner, shadowed in darkness. And the dirt and rock were covered in discarded clothes -- blood stained and ripped.
Grian knew that they were from bodies Scar would've consumed and he chose to ignore that for his own sanity at the moment. Since it was the only other thing inside the pit, he began to rifle through the nest, picking up the socks and jackets to see if they had anything helpful in the pockets.
Scar appeared at his side again, a small growl.
Grian had a death wish, apparently. He held both hands up and said, "Sorry, should've asked before I just started going through your stuff. I'm just looking for anything that can help us escape. I want both of us to get out of here, okay?"
The sharpness in the white eyes backed off a little. Scar turned his head away, huffing.
"I appreciate it." Grian told him. Then returned to his task.
There was nothing useful in the pockets, they were mostly shredded beyond usefulness. He almost gave up before he found a jacket that had its sleeve held together by pins.
"Perfect." Grian breathed, a light of hope in his chest.
Grian separated the pins and kinked the metal into a more useful shape. He stuck a couple extras in his mouth and said around them, "I can try and get that off for you."
Scar didn't move. Grian climbed out of the nest and approached, the chain on his ankle dragging as he moved.
"I'm not sure if it'll work." Grian told him, holding up the pins, spitting the rest from his mouth into his hand to show. "But I'm reasonably confident I can try. Okay?"
White eyes stared. Grian had no idea what the Vex was thinking -- if this would be the moment he'd decide to turn on him, or if it was just a lack of trust. That was understandable, he didn't know Grian.
But he could pick a lock better than anyone. He waved the pins, raising an eyebrow, offering. Scar finally turned around and let Grian access the back of his collar.
It wasn't an easy lock. It was tiny, and Scar was tall so he had to reach up to work on it.
"Could you get lower for me?" Grian said, when he couldn't get the angle he needed.
Scar cast a look at him over his shoulder, glowing white, a long contemplative pause. Then his spectral figure knelt on the floor.
It was very helpful. Grian had a much better approach to the lock, and with three different pins jabbed into the collar as he worked the tumblers, he managed to pick it open. There was a hissed release, the metal thudding against the dirt.
"Yes!" Grian cheered, stomach flipping with success. He said, "Is that better?"
The Vex was still kneeling. A long, clawed finger reached out to touch the collar split on the floor. A breathy sound, almost like a laugh. Then the light surrounding him faded, and his figure solidified.
Grian's throat caught in surprise, taking a step back. The shaped glow softened into tattered wings on his back, becoming a tall man with bluish grey skin and hair. Eyes still snow-white, but now fanned with lashes and eye crinkles. Pointed ears, teeth still sharp, nails pointed to claws, but otherwise Scar had a real form, one might mistake for a person if you were dumb enough to ignore all the signs that he was incredibly dangerous.
Still on his knees, Scar raised his chin to Grian and said in a very unused rasp, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Grian replied, dumbfounded. He hadn't been expecting that. He watched the long whip tail flicker. The same scars crossing his face in the spectral form carried over to the flesh one.
"You should get that off too." Scar said, pointing to the shackle on Grian's ankle.
"Yeah, right. Of course." Grian gathered up all the pins he'd dropped, forgetting entirely that Scar wasn't the only one trapped. "You were stuck like that?"
"Mhm." Scar stood, stretching with a long pull, like a very big dangerous cat. The tattered wings expanded to their full wingspan and it just about took Grian's breath away.
"How long?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Longer than I'd like to admit." Scar said, and turned to give Grian a smile with his many teeth. "You're an angel."
"Pleasure." Grian replied, throat dry. Oh no, he had a deathly good charm. He ducked his reddening face to focus on trying to accomplish the same feat for himself.
Scar stalked the length of the pit while Grian worked. He stood underneath the grate and stared up into the light, a frown on his face, tail flicking irritably behind him.
"Are they going to come back for you?" Scar asked.
"They were hoping you'd kill me." Grian reminded him.
"They usually just drop dead bodies in here. And I eat them because it's not like they're getting any deader. But I wasn't going to attack you if you weren't a threat." Scar told him, cavalier.
"They think you're a monster so they will assume I'm dead."
"I am a monster." Scar smiled, all his horrible teeth on display. "But not the kind they want. What did they do to you?"
Grian thought about the cell he'd been locked in, the problems he'd caused himself, the disciplines and punishments and gaslighting over long periods. The chilled smiles and bruises around his wrist. He said, "What didn't they do?"
"I'll kill them for you." Scar offered.
Grian dropped the pin he was trying to hold. He said, "I don't need you to do that. I just want to get out of here."
"We can do that." Scar said.
It was stupid, but Grian's hands were shaking and he couldn't manage to get his own shackle off. He exhaled, mind running a mile ahead of him, and placed the pins on the floor for a minute to calm down.
"Am I scaring you?" Scar asked.
"No. Yes. I'm just having a very long day." Grian rubbed his bruised wrists, feeling every beat of his heart throughout his whole body, but especially his split lip. It was bleeding again, sluggish and slow, and he kept sucking the swollen thing and making it worse.
"Grian, you said your name was?" Scar stopped roving the length of the pit and came to sit beside him. Legs tucked underneath him. He had an old dusty coat and tight pants but no shirt and no shoes. Even with the bluish grey hue, he had a very nice chest. It was currently eye level and Grian made an effort to lift his chin and look Scar in the eye. A ringed white iris pinned back at him, searching his face.
Grian swallowed, "Yeah. Was I right? Scar?"
"That's me." Scar smiled, a little crooked, a peak of fangs, and it was hopelessly endearing.
Grian felt his heart beat harder, and this time the fear entangled with something else incredibly complicated. His mouth was dry. His sense was left somewhere else.
"How'd you end up here?" Scar inquired, picking up the pins off the floor and offering them to Grian, urging him to continue trying to free himself.
Trembling fingers took the pins and he ducked over his leg as he worked, hair covering his face. He said, annoyed, "They took me from my home. I don't know how long ago it was now. They were trying to get me to become one of them. It didn't take. What about you?"
"Wrong place, wrong time, I guess. I was overconfident that I couldn't be caught. They had more power than I considered." Scar said, shooting an annoyed look at the collar discarded on the ground.
"They're annoyingly resourceful." Grian agreed. The pin he was working with broke and he swore. He took a minute to dislodge the broken piece and manipulate a new pin into the right shape. Scar watched him work, eyes tracking, contemplative. Then Grian managed to get that satisfying click and eagerly shook the shackle off.
"But you are more resourceful than them." Scar praised.
Grian helplessly flashed a smile, shaky, and bent over his knee to breathe. He said, "Can I just have a bit to rest before we go? I'm so tired."
Scar shrugged, tattered wings flexing behind his shoulders. "Won't make a difference either way. They think you're dead and they don't visit me."
Grian nodded dazedly and moved to sit in the horrible nest of dead people's clothes, back against the wall and trying to breathe. He hadn't realized how much a weight the shackle was until it was gone, the binding magic disappearing into the air. They couldn't track him anymore. They couldn't contain Scar. A couple metal pins from the people the Watcher's had killed would be the same thing that freed them.
Rest wouldn't be easy with all the jittering adrenaline. He eyed the grate, with the light going pale with the growing night. He said, "They don't visit?"
"They do not." Scar agreed, moving and kicking the shackle idly as he passed, coming to sit beside Grian. "But if today is the day that changes, I will be awake to alert you."
Grian swallowed. He was drained and heavy. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, if he should've just pushed through.
Scar sensed his hesitation and tipped his head towards him. "Grian, you have given me back my voice and my physical form. I will protect you with my life."
That was a solemn vow, a painful one, a dangerous one. To have the favour of a monster.
"Soon we will have our freedom too. But it has been a very long day for you, and you need your strength. Rest and I will keep an eye out for anyone who seeks to harm you." Scar promised, shifting and lifting a leathery wing in offer.
Grian stared at him, unsure, but emboldened by his words. He carefully leaned into Scar's side and let the wing shield him, wrapping him in warmth.
He shut his eyes, body hyperaware, tense and waiting for something. Nothing came. He breathed carefully in and out, as the warmth seeped into his skin, as Scar's watchful eye protected him, and sleep felt like he was giving away something. Something vulnerable and coveted. He would never use the word trust, not after what he'd been through. But there wasn't a better word coming to mind.
Sleep was spotty and uneven, and came with a very distinct feeling of being chased, even if the images didn’t solidify into such. But everytime his mind came to the surface, the secure wrap of the wing around him bathed his mind in reassurance.
...
if/when i finish part 2, i may just post the whole thing to ao3. spirit willing.
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screamingshark · 1 year
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It’s always good to be prepared!
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remedyturtles · 13 days
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not a single person here who's worthy
@tmnt-write-fight gift fic for @duckythetoddscout for their first prompt:
Batman crossover- Dick Grayson (any age), or any other batkids really, meeting the turtles. Any iteration.
wordcount: 2844
this is the absolute peak of self indulgence, as i've been into batfam for over ten years, so this prompt sung to me. i really hope you like where i took this haha :) title from idle worship by paramore. warnings for kinda panic attack but otherwise nothing big.
[]
If asked, Leo would claim that he'd borrowed one of Donnie's tablets so he could watch deep-dive video essays.
And he did. Sometimes. But mostly, he'd poked Donnie into info-dumping about the different tracking apps he'd developed so Leo could set it up and watch for anything... weird.
It was a totally normal reaction. Even though he'd had to listen to Donnie explain that blah blah blah mathematical model of a four dimensional continuum measuring relativistic effects -- whatever. What mattered was, Donnie had a map of New York corresponding to a graph of time-space-junk, and if it spiked, shit was happening. And it was so totally normal of Leo to sleep with that graph playing on the tablet next to his head. Just to make sure that nothing weird was going on. Right?
Yeah. Right. So totally normal. Which was why he told absolutely no one about his quiet little obsession, and why he more often than not laid awake staring at the screen instead of sleeping.
He'd grown used to the little anomalies, after sneaking out multiple times to check on blips. He'd yet to find any connection, whether it was latent mystic energies or some weird science thing due to gravity, he had no idea. Leo stopped having an irrational lurch of panic in his stomach at the small fluctuations on the screen. However it did not prepare him for the huge spike he saw at two thirty in the morning when he should've been sleeping after a long night of patrol. He'd almost convinced himself to fall asleep, too, when the screen suddenly lit in a red flare twenty times the size of any anomaly he'd seen so far, right in middle of Soho.
Leo's blood went cold. His brain ran through multiple possibilities, as his body moved, grabbing his swords and lighting up in an instant -- portalling directly to the coordinates.
The air was sparking when Leo emerged. Crackling pops of electricity fluttering to the ground. And despite what Leo's brain was anticipating, there was no pink fleshed aliens, there was no mechanical suits lit with red, there was only a groan from the rooftop, distinctly human and annoyed.
For a too-long moment, Leo's brain sprinted to catch up with his body, as he'd left his sense in the sewers. He was still wearing the hoodie he'd slept in and his swords were cooling down from his frantic portal. He was barely awake, despite the stop-start surge of panic, and it was damn lucky that there wasn't some alien waiting here for him, as he was woefully unprepared. And alone. What had he thought he was going to do?
"Well, shit." The person laying on the roof said. He was crackling with his own electricity, sparks fading slow, and appraising Leo with a watchful eye.
Which. Now that Leo was pivoting to the human beside him, was dressed quite… unique. A black body suit, with blue stripes arching finger to finger over his shoulders. And a mask on his face, hiding his eyes completely, with a head of dark hair. When Leo looked at him, he grinned. 
"Hi. Are you the welcoming committee?" The stranger asked. 
"I'm…" Leo shook his head, gathering his bearings, and extended his sword out to face the intruder. "Something like that. Who are you? Where did you come from?"
Bemusedly, the stranger raised his hands up, showing himself unarmed. "I'm not recognizable? Have I landed somewhere that doesn't have heroes?"
Heroes. Leo's hand shook for a moment, as his body struggled to keep the sword up. That was a concept Leo really didn't want to think about, especially not at two in the morning when he'd been scared half to death thinking for a split second that the Kraang had returned and he was a failure to everyone who ever had the misfortune of believing in him. 
"That's… we don't have anyone like you." Leo decided to answer, instead of claiming himself to be one. 
"Is everyone in this universe green?" The hero asked, cheerful about it. Even though Leo could tell he was still sizing him up, shifting into a better position. 
"Not many." Leo said, flat. "Mostly human. Like you are, I'm assuming."
"Human. Unless you ask my brother after I've subjected him to the fifth Disney movie in a row, at which point I'm apparently considered a monster. Any chance we could lower the sword now? I'm promise I'm one of the good guys. Here, let me introduce myself. I'm Nightwing." Heedless of the sword, Nightwing stuck out his hand to shake. 
Leo juggled conflicting desires, wanting to stay on guard versus wanting to play along and gain information, and compromised by lowering the sword but not taking the hand.
Nightwing didn't actually seem to expect him to, pulling away just to lean back on his palms and look at the skyline. "Woah, is this New York? It's been ages since I've been here, but you don't forget that view."
"Where are you from, then?" Leo prodded, keeping his sword at his side, ready. Tense. Feeling small and kind of stupid in the hoodie that was too big for him with the effortless sheen of the costume before him. 
"Gotham City."
"Never heard of it."
"Strike two for alternate dimension. That's fine. I won't be here long anyway." 
"No?" Leo wondered.
Nightwing seemed to be enjoying the view, unbothered by his armed welcoming party and no longer sparking with energy. "We were fighting a gentleman who installed a dimension hopper into his weaponry, so there's contingency plans in place. As soon as my family is done kicking his ass they'll swing by and pick me up. I give them… twenty minutes. Maybe half an hour, if Babybird and Little D get arguing without me to break it up."
Leo couldn't help but glance around at the scenery, trying to see what had enraptured the hero so much. All he could focus on was the construction cranes and the holes in the skyline where they'd lost infrastructure during the invasion. If Nightwing truly hadn't been to New York in a long time, maybe he didn't know the difference. Or maybe it was different in his universe altogether. 
"Your whole family are heroes?" Leo asked instead.
"Everyone of them." Nightwing's mouth twitched at the corner. "Even the ones who maybe should've waited a little longer before getting into the family business, but who am I to judge?"
Leo got the impression he'd been doing the gig a long time himself, just from the lazy grace that he carried in the suit. Reluctantly, he let the swords relax at his sides completely.
"Those are beautiful katannas." Nightwing complimented. 
"Thanks." Leo said reflexively. He held up the blades, marvelling for a moment how the ninpo markings disappeared and left no trace.
"You popped over here pretty quick. I wasn't expecting my appearance to make any waves. The last time this happened I ended up taking a nap on a beach for a couple hours. Welcoming committee, protector of the universe, whatever you wanna call it." 
Leo was already shaking his head. "That's not me. I just… I stole some of my brother's tech and I was just watching for any time-space bullshit and caught the wave you made. So I portalled over to make sure it wasn't something coming to take over the world, or whatever. It's stupid."
"Doesn't sound stupid." Nightwing smiled at him, and it kinda hurt for some reason. "Well, hey, you better stick around and make sure I don't take over the world in the probable-twenty-five minutes I spend in this universe. Have a seat, kid, pull up some roof." 
"I'm not a kid." Leo protested, but slowly lowered himself to sit, folding his swords over his knees and tugging at the edge of his big hoodie. 
"You're what, seventeen?" Nightwing guessed, right on the money without even trying. "Same age as my second youngest brother, though he's probably a bad example on what does and does not constitute a kid since he was briefly the world's youngest CEO of a multi-billion dollar company. The point is, I'm twenty-four, and I've been doing this hero biz for more than half my life, and I can give you some hot tips if you want."
"I'm not a hero." Leo immediately denied, tongue feeling big in his mouth and heart going too-fast. 
"You don't need a fancy suit to be a hero. You just need to show up when things need protecting." Nightwing gestured at him. "And look at that! Here you are."
"Not me." Leo's face burned and he didn't want this guy to get the wrong idea. "Maybe my brothers are heroes, but I'm the screw up. I'm just trying to… make up for my mistakes." 
"Ah." Nightwing's smile tinted a new colour. Shaded sad. "Listen, kid. What's your name?"
"I don't have a superhero name like yours." Leo said. 
"Hell, there's no secret identity to protect here. My real name is Dick. Well, Richard. But my friends call me Dick." 
Oh come on. Leo had to do it. He quirked a little smile and asked, "How do you get Dick from Richard?"
"You ask nicely!" Dick crowed, delighted. "Oh, thank you! No one ever sets me up for that one anymore."
Leo chuckled, shoulder loosening, and said, "It's Leonardo. Just Leo is fine though."
"Da Vinki?" Dick memed in a pretend gasp. 
He couldn't help but laugh again. "Yeah, that's me. All my brothers and I are named after renaissance artists. Or, alternatively, by our colour coding. So I'll answer just as fast to 'blue'."
"Hell yeah blue." Dick wiggled his blue finger stripes at him. "Got a red brother? Mine is a pain in the ass. I love him but if he 'borrows' my motorbike without asking one more time I'm gonna make origami out of his classic lit collection."
"Red brother, yeah. That's Raph. I'm probably more of a pain to him than he is to me. And he's not into books, that's Donnie. Books and tech." 
"Ah, tech is all Tim. The walking contradiction – genius level IQ who dropped out of high school. Picture a kid skateboarding in a suit to his board meetings. Though I'm not sure what colour we'd assign to him now, probably yellow since Jason's got a pretty firm hold on red." Dick tapped off his fingers, looking fond. 
Leo hummed and said, "Yeah, Don's purple, and my youngest isn't yellow but orange. Mikey's like that too – bright like the sun. Loves with everything he has. Joy and warmth and all that."
Dick burst out laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach, and dramatically wiped a tear away. "Oh, boy, yeah. No. The similarities very much end there. Our youngest is a baby assassin who we have to remind daily that he cannot maim people for minor inconveniences. But he's doing great, really. He's come so far from where he started. And despite the severe exterior, he really loves animals and art."
"Hey, there's something. Mike loves art. Actually, do you wanna see? I've got pictures on my phone." Leo tapped his foot at top speed, a little excited, because he never got to interact with normal people who didn't already know Mikey and get the opportunity to show off his talent like this. 
"Hell yeah I do." Dick shuffled closer, leaning in to see his phone and exclaiming over the bright pieces Leo had treasured in his camera roll. Then Dick showed off some remarkably lifelike pencil art pieces done by his youngest brother on his own phone, as well as the zoo of animals apparently he kept. Including a cow? 
"Are you the oldest?" Leo asked, when Dick made a comment about 'all his baby siblings'.
"I am. There's more of us, a couple sisters and another brother, but I'm the oldest of all of them." Dick didn't seem too concerned. "Let me guess, you're the second oldest?"
"Depends on what order my twin and I are deciding on for the day, but yeah. Raph's the oldest." Leo said with a shrug. 
"That makes sense." Dick said. 
Leo scowled and tried to elbow him. "What makes you say that?"
Dick dodged effortlessly and huffed. "You remind me of my second oldest brother. He feels like he has a lot to prove. And no idea that we don't need him to prove it, we'd just rather he was there."
Leo wrinkled his nose. "Dude. Come on. You don't have to put me on blast like that."
"Sorry." Dick laughed. "I'm a detective. And I'm really bad at turning it off, especially when I jump into a alternate dimension faced with a kid in a hoodie and a sword who's shaking way too hard to be doing okay."
Shit. That was a bad first impression. Leo groaned and covered his face with his hands. 
"Can I ask you one thing, though?" Dick wondered. 
"Might as well. Dig the knife in." Leo mumbled. 
"Why did you come alone? If your brothers are more like heroes than you, why is it just you in the middle of the night?"
"I wasn't thinking." Leo said, too quick, and it wasn't really the truth. He sighed. "I told you, I'm just trying to make up for my mistakes. They… they didn't need to be dragged into this if I could just fix it myself." 
"Hm. Well, get ready for the hot tip, because once I'm in big brother mode there's no stopping me. I told you that being a hero is showing up when people need protecting, but being a hero for a long time is not showing up alone. You shouldn't be wandering around New York by yourself to face an unknown threat, especially if you're not ready for it." Dick leaned in closer, rather serious. 
Leo shook his head, annoyed, turning away and tugging at the end of his sleeve. "Now you're really reminding me of Raph. Now all you need is a hot temper."
"Oh, believe me, I've got that too." Dick winked, but there was a severity that rang true. "But that's not necessary in this moment. If I'm your Raph and you said that you're more of a pain to him than he is to you, then yeah, you're my Jason. But listen. I don't care that Jason's made mistakes. Because that kid suffered more than anyone could believe, but he came back to us, and he is trying. And there's no amount of pain that he could cause me that would ever eclipse how much more I love him."
That was… seriously uncomfortably close to his own experiences. Just thinking about the idea of suffering sounded a lot like the snap of a portal closing him into hell. And coming back from it, and trying to be the hero he never could. 
"You don't have to prove anything to them." Dick said, quietly. "They'd just rather you were there. And if your tech brother is half as good as mine, he probably knew the moment the energy spiked and I bet they're wondering where you are."
It was that moment that Leo realized he'd left his phone in his bedroom, plugged in and charging, and if they had been trying to contact him he'd have no idea. He groaned and covered his face again. "Shit."
"Go home." Dick said. "My ride'll be here any minute." 
"Yeah. Yeah." Leo shook his head, like he was trying to shake out the cobwebs. There was no way Donnie hadn't realized what he was doing with the tablet now, he was going to have some explaining to do, especially at the part where he ran off to deal with a threat entirely alone without telling anyone where he was going. He gave Dick a sideways glance and said, "Your Jason loves you too, you know. He's stealing your motorbike so you'll have to talk to him. We always listen more when you're yelling because that's when we think you're telling the truth."
"Maybe I'll yell at him more how much I love him, then." Dick shrugged, amused. "Get it through his thick skull."
"Thanks for being patient." Leo said, and realized in that moment he probably really needed to verbalize that one to Raph. 
"Thanks for coming home." Dick replied, sadder. 
Behind them, the rooftop shimmered with a different portal.
"Ah, great timing. They're early, someone must've gotten antsy." Dick grinned, hopping up to his feet with an acrobatic stretch. "Hey, Leonardo?"
"Yeah?" Leo said, getting up too.
"It was great to meet another hero." Dick saluted, approaching his portal.
Leo's mouth was dry. He nodded back, and said with a small croak, "Yeah. You too."
He watched until Dick disappeared. Then before he could summon his own portal, he heard three voices gasp, "Leo!" before he was tackled to the ground. 
His hands were shaking again as he held onto them. He didn't really have to go home, when home came to him.
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lost-technology · 2 months
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At long last! Survivor's Guilt - my "Rem Lives" AU, has been edited! The 18 chapters that exist so far have been given revisions - mostly small edits, but I fixed the ship-naming thing that had been bothering me (picked a lane on ship-naming, choosing numericals over spelled out numbers where I had typed them out as both / used them interchangeably before). I fixed some of the usual tiny typographical errors, but I also changed a few plot-relevant things in response to learning tidbits posted about Orange's direction and after some discourse / analysis / conversation on Trigun-general plot things here on the tumbles. I also did some things to make the story more internally consistent, as one does with subsequent drafts. Ah, now I can get to actually writing more of it again!
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tortellimi · 2 months
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wrote this sleep deprived on a 12 hour flight and have yet to fall asleep 6 hours after. erwin lovers, enjoy. im going to bed 💀
erwin smith. what to say about erwin smith. he was a handsome man, and he knew it. being a captain who tended to work near or even inside his office was like sweet hell on earth. you swear not even your close friend hange or even levi are in his office as often as you are. however, you aren’t complaining. erwin seemed to like having you around. he’d conveniently give you extra work that he insisted you do in his office. he’d steal glances and compliment you, eyes weary and tired. you’re so close you can practically smell the gingham soap he uses. something it seems like only he can pull off. erwin smith was reassuring. he would set down his pen once in a while to come and lean over you, overseeing your work. you’d smile up at him, asking if you were doing okay. he’d pat your head and assure that you’re doing perfect. you always did perfect. erwin smith was kind. he’d offer you a tea break, which you eagerly took, sitting across from him in front of his fireplace. he was so close, you could count his blonde lashes. you dared to lean a little closer, giggling at something he said. erwin would smile, exhaustion slurred into his words. erwin smith was smart. planning out tactical strategies to ensure the best results for the corps. you used to question why you never got to be on the frontlines with your squad. but you seemed to accept that you were going to be near erwin more than most of the time. not that you minded. erwin smith worked. a lot. you had to remind him to stop. a lot. massaging his shoulders and whispering into his ear as you both chuckled tiredly about your day. he’d agree. a tiny break, but only if it was spent telling you he’s proud of you, that he’s always there for you. if you were happy, he was happy. if you were sad, he’d so everything and anything in his power to make you feel better again. erwin smith got it done. you feeling down? he takes you out to get a break from work. you’re cramping or sore? massages and chocolates were in order. hot? a cold bath was already prepared. cold? his thickest blankets and clothing were ready for you. erwin smith was loving. he would cherish his breaks he spent with his favorite captain. something he told you to never mention to levi he said. he’d make sure you were comfortable and felt secure with him before hugging you, rubbing your back and resting his chin on your head. erwin smith made sure you bathed, brushed your teeth, and were in bed before he took care of himself. he’d slip under the sheets and ask that you don’t go back to your quarters in the morning. just stay, a little longer. erwin smith was a good man, and he knew it too.
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sheebadukiiiii · 7 months
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hey guys. nothing new. just. just trimax. on the brain. again. and again. and agai
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sorry if the text is unreadable vdshbjsn its just notes abt their lives post canon AND r subject to change bc i read a fic recently for post canon and it wasm.. .. yeah ti was ogod im going to make fanart for it i think idk
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your-mom-friend · 2 months
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Tma fandom give me fic refs where Jon could not care less. He is either mouthing off to Elias or he is actively and cheerfully planning his murder. Fully aware of the horrors, may or may not be an avatar, just tired of them. Simply put girlies give me fic recs of Jon not on the verge of, or actively, having a panic attack (please)
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needle-noggins · 9 months
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REM FIC IS HEREEEEE.
This one was so much fun to write, even if I went through html hell to do it. Enjoy. :)
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