#figured i have to branch out with who i tag in these things it's always the same 4 people helpp so here's some variety lmao but v lowkey th

[fulcrvm]

Last Line Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @teejaystumbles ! A really nice surprise!! :D I am indeed contemplating writing two Dead Boy Detectives fic right now, but they're both in the very early 'being-outlined-in-my-head' stage, haha. They both revolve around post-s1 Edwin pining for Charles, one where Edwin takes matters into his own hands and one where he decides to have a chat with the Cat King about it. Not sure if they'll ever be written but they're intriguing!

But for the sake of the tag game, here's a lengthy bit from a Dreamling wip I've slowly been chipping away at for a few months!

A scene from Every Little Thing (Working Title)— In which Morpheus is a figure drawing professor who has just been fired from a film production based on his comics, and Hob does part-time figure modeling and is determined befriend the aforementioned professor.

Morpheus picks his class schedules wisely— he runs two first year general figure drawing classes, at 8 a.m. and at noon on Mondays and Thursdays. He helps the uni’s live figure workshop club on Wednesdays and Fridays at 6 p.m., and meets his sister for lunch on Wednesdays. All other free time was dedicated for his industry work. That wouldn’t be a concern anymore, would it. By the time Morpheus unlocks the door to the studio, sets his bag down by his desk, and starts fiddling with the ceiling studio lights pointed at the model stand, all of Morpheus’ thoughts have reduced to pure spite. Fine, maybe the big studios don’t want him. They don’t deserve him, then, their loss. His portfolio and repertoire are infamous in the industry, they’ll be crawling back to him in no time. Too bad, maybe he would have started his own production studio and he’ll end up with the next ground-breaking animated film. Maybe— Morpheus’ thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. He shakes himself out of it, calling, “Come in.” A glance at his watch tells him it’s only 7:48, perhaps it’s an overeager student here early. It’s only the second week of the semester, they grab every opportunity to prove themselves with a spirited step that Morpheus might be slightly envious of. “Hello, Morpheus Endeles?” Hearing his full name startles Morpheus, and he turns from the lighting settings to the door. “Yes?” The man who steps into view can only be described as radiant. He can’t be much older than Morpheus, not much taller either but wider in the shoulders. His hair is cropped just above his shoulders and he sports a neatly kept beard. Morpheus registers this all first simply because of his profession but— he gets caught on the man’s brilliant smile and deep brown eyes. There’s something there that knocks all thoughts clear out of Morpheus’ head. The stranger smiles warmly, smiles like he already cares. “I’m here to model for the morning and noon figure classes?” The man says. Morpheus clears his throat and steps forward, “Yes, this is the right studio.” He extends a hand, “Robert Gadling, I presume?” The man takes his hand— god, he’s so warm— and shakes it steadily, “Please, call me Hob! All my friends do.”

I'm a sucker for the 'Morpheus catalogues Hob's appearance during their first meeting' trope in most Dreamling human AU fics, I couldn't not do it too :]

Besides this, I've also got a Dreamling Velvet Goldmine-ish AU fic that I want to get done this summer. I'm a very slow and ruminative writer so let's see if I can commit to any of these fics now that I've posted about them lol!

No pressure tags! I have no idea who's been tagged recently so-- lol. @hardly-an-escape @valeriianz @moorishflower @amielot :)

[solongllondon]

i was tagged by @heartstringsduet to 🎧 put my liked songs on shuffle and list the first 10 🎶 thank you for tagging me michelle <33

when i needed you, carly rae jepsen

sunburn, ed sheeran

truly, cigarettes after sex

nature boy - acoustic, aurora

me against the music, glee cast

hold your breath, ruelle

jupiter (live at the troubadour), wrabel

see u in hell, carobae

mein leben - live, kraftklub

like the movies, laufey

i was actually really surprised at what songs came up ngl lol

anyway i'm tagging @backmygirlhood @thislovetv @stood-onthecliffside @figuringthengsout @annagrzinskys @circeswife

[radio-writes]

Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?

Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)

Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.

The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.

Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)

Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat

MDNI

Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.

Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears. 

As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.

You had to get away.

You couldn't get away.

You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.

You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.

You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."

You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.

Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.

That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg. 

He was laughing.

He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.

You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.

Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.

Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.

Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.

At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.

You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.

"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck. 

But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.

While you were scared, desperate to get away.

He was terrified, desperate to get you back.

The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.

Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.

"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.

You felt him step closer.

"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.

You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.

The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid? 

Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that. 

This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.

His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.

Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.

But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.

As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.

It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.

But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.

"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.

"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.

When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face. 

You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh. 

But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek. 

"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber. 

"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed. 

"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.

The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.

Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.

"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.

The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.

You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.

You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.

He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you. 

"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.

You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."

"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.

You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.

You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.

Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.

Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."

You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.

You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.

Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.

"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."

You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.

A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.

"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.

You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured. 

"Alastor, wait—"

"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special." 

"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.

One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze. 

"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.

"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.

You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.

But you know how this ends.

You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.

You, of all people, knew that well.

Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.

"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.

You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.

Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.

His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.

His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.

He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.

The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.

The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.

Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.

You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.

"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.

You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.

Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.

It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.

"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.

You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script. 

He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention. 

"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.

The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull. 

"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"

He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.

It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.

"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"

His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did. 

He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.

"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.

You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.

When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.

"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery. 

"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."

Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.

He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to." 

His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.

His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.

"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.

You can't. But you nod your head anyway.

He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry. 

Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."

But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.

He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.

He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.

Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.

He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.

Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him. 

You can't leave him.

You know that now.

Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.

"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.

You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.

Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.

You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt. 

"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.

"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.

You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.

"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.

"No," You responded again.

"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.

"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth

You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.

But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.

"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.

"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now." 

I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Series Part 4- KSJ

 Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that

Paring: Jin/Reader

Rating: 18+/M

Word Count: 6k

Tags: Smut, fingering, eating out, fucking against a mirror, wrap it before you tap it people, spanking, dirty talk, Jin calls her princess.

Authors Note: You can not tell me Seokjin wouldn't love to fuck someone against a mirror so he could look at himself. I rest my case.

In case you missed it

Part 1 (intro)

Part 2

Part 3

Spring had finally decided to make an appearance four days after your steamy night with Jungkook and you were going to take full advantage of the beautiful weather.

Right as the clock struck noon you grabbed your bag and your light pink spring coat making your way out of your stuffy office and crossing the busy street to the park which had many beautiful trees that were just starting to bloom, bringing the promise of longer days and balmy temperatures.

You found yourself smiling as you spotted the perfect bench under a giant oak tree and you snagged it before anyone else could, setting out your lunch and deciding to people-watch instead of scrolling your phone like you usually did during your hour-long lunch.

The park was full of people, mostly kids playing around, some runners and bike riders, and of course, many couples holding hands and taking pictures as the sun beamed down on them.

You smiled at the happy couples feeling joy blooming in your chest.

You had been happy all week which was totally due to the sudden nice weather and definitely not because you had not stopped thinking of that night with Jungkook.

Nope, that wasn't it at all.

You were so lost in your thoughts of that night that you hardly noticed your phone vibrating on your lap.

You scooped it up last minute and saw someone was calling you

more specifically an unknown number was calling you

“Hello?” You answered settling into the bench and throwing your head back to let the rays of sun that were peaking through the branches hit your face.

“Hey Y/N right?” Came a suave male voice you sort of recognized.

“Yes, this is her.” You answer trying to match his suaveness.

“It's Kim Seokjin. How are you?”

You jolt your head up so fast the world spins for a moment.

You really thought you'd be used to this by now but you still felt your heart race in your chest at the prospect that he was reaching out to you.

Tae never said who would contact you when so it was always a surprise.

“I'm good just on my lunch break how about you?” You ask trying to seem as chill as possible.

“Good we are just on a break here and I figured I'd reach out.” He says voice dropping low which has your eyebrow quirking up and arousal flooding your veins.

“Hmm and what did you want to reach out about?” You almost purr which has him softly chuckling on the other line.

“Well as you are very aware we have a tour coming up and there are things I'd like to do before we leave, things that make me feel less stressed you know.” He teases which has your thighs clenching together.

You pushed your hair back from your face and smiled deviously.

“And what would those things be hmm?” You inquire biting at your lips.

“Well, so here's the thing.” He says, his voice no longer an octave lower, and has you sitting up in your seat.

“I have a reservation booked at Lalune tomorrow night and wanted to know if you wanted to go with me. I know one of the chefs and he told me to come anytime but we have our tour coming up so I want to go before I leave. What do you say?”

You are speechless

Lalune was known as one of the top-end restaurants and was rated the best restaurant for the past three years. It was in a fancier part of the city and you had walked by it before. You remembered seeing people sitting at small quaint tables lined with black tablecloths drinking and eating food that was probably half your rent. There was a massive fireplace and a giant chandelier with small crescent moons hanging from it. The place screamed money and you never thought you'd even be allowed to step foot in there.

“I...um? Are you sure?” You ask as you fiddle with your dress pants and top, mentally going through your entire closet to try to remember if you have anything fancy to wear.

“If I wasn't sure I wouldn't ask. Yes, I'm sure. It's always more fun to share a meal with other people. I tried to get Namjoon to come with me but he already has plans...some art thing.” Seokjin explains as you feel your heart hammer in your chest.

“Oh yeah, the new exhibit is supposed to be really cool, about light refraction in art.” You say as you gather your things and head back towards the office.

“Impressive. I'll have to let Namjoon know our girl knows her art.” Seokjin teases as you feel yourself blush.

Our girl

“Anyway please say yes. I'm going to be honest I'm not someone who can just... hook up with someone I don't know. I'd love to take you out to dinner and get to know you better. I don't want you to think I'm using this dinner to get in your pants at all! Like I said earlier it's always fun to eat with company. And if we don't end up hooking up I hope I make a really good friend.” He says which has you smiling as you enter the office.

“Of course, I'll go with you.” You say heading towards the elevator and trying to keep the giddiness in your chest at bay.

“Okay! I'll come pick you up around six! Oh, you're going to love it!” Seokjin says his voice laced with excitement.

You say your goodbyes and hang up and by the time you make it back to your office, you can't stop grinning.

And here you are now.

Standing in front of a mirror wearing a little black dress adorned with gold jewelry. Your hair is pinned up in a half up-do and you are nervously pacing your living room waiting for his car to arrive.

You try your best not to pick at your lips or nails as you wait, instead, you focus on straightening everything out in case he does want to come up after dinner.

Right at six you hear a car outside and race to the window to see a black van with the license plate he texted you earlier.

You hastily grab your bag and your tan pea coat before locking the door to your apartment, your heels click-clacking on the concrete steps as you make your way to the car.

Seokjin is standing outside of it holding the door open and your jaw almost drops.

There is a reason he is called worldwide handsome.

His hair is dark and pushed back from his forehead with a few stay pieces flopping forward giving him an effortlessly disheveled look. He is wearing a black leather jacket with a low-cut black shirt underneath and multiple necklaces. His dress pants are also dark and something about the way he looks makes your heart race fast and your stomach flip in arousal.

“You look beautiful.” He says as a way of greeting you as he helps you into the van and slides in the back seat alongside you.

Before you can comment on how good he looks, the van is already pulling away from the curb and he is talking excitedly about this restaurant and the menu.

You let him chat the whole ride there taking in every word. It was obvious he knew a lot about different foods and different flavor combinations and you soaked it all in as the driver pulled the car in behind the restaurant and Seokjin got out to get your door for you.

A classic gentleman.

“I had the chef get us a private room with a private menu too. I hope you don't mind.” He says as you step out of the vehicle and he takes your hand to lead you to a back door.

He slips his phone out of his jacket and sends a quick text and stares down at you.

“I did mean what I said earlier. You are very beautiful. No wonder Taehyung wouldn't stop talking my ear off until I pushed him to approach you.” He teases which has your jaw-dropping.

“Wait what? I didn't know that.” You respond as the door opens and Seokjin puts a hand on your back to usher you inside.

A waitress takes you down a narrow hallway and soon enough you are in a fairly large room that has the lights dimmed and a couple tables decorated with black tablecloths and small pillar candles that have tiny moons and suns carved into them.

Other couples are sitting at these tables but none of them look up when you and Seokjin get seated at your table.

“This is called the parlor, it's very private and you are only allowed in if you know the chef or the owner.” He explains as he pulls out the chair for you and you graciously sit down.

You stare around the room taking it all in. The fireplace is lit and throwing light around the room which is catching the small stars and moons hanging from the ceiling, their reflections illuminated on the walls.

“This place is amazing. I mean. Wow Seokjin.” You breathe out still taking your time to look around.

He smiles at you in a way that makes you suddenly feel shy.

“Please call me Jin. Seokjin is much too formal.” He says as the waitress from earlier comes back and brings a bottle of wine to the table.

You both drink slowly as you take in the atmosphere and the soft music playing in the background.

“I'm just honored you'd want to take me here. Like genuinely honored.” You say staring at his handsome face and trying not to blush under the low light.

“Well, you are much prettier to look at than Namjoon.” Jin teases as his hand traces the stem of the wine glass and you smirk and shake your head at his boldness.

“So you were there the night Taehyung and I first met?” You ask as your first course gets delivered to the table.

Jin smiles softly and begins to tell the story as you both eat.

Six courses and a bottle of wine later you are feeling full and happy. It turns out you and Jin had a lot to talk about and the conversation and atmosphere were both wonderful.

When the check came Jin slipped his black card to the waitress and smiled softly at you as you finished the last sips of your wine. You wanted to take it easy on the alcohol tonight as you wanted to remember this entire night.

“I'm just going to text the driver to let him know we are finished,” Jin said pulling out his phone and smiling as he typed away.

The parlor slowly started to empty out and after a couple quick messages Jin announced the driver was there and it was time to go.

You stood up and his hand was soft and warm on your back as he directed you out into the hallway and out the back door where the car was already waiting.

Even though spring had arrived the nights were still cool so you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself as Jin rushed forward to open the door for you.

You climbed in with him right behind you and the van made its way back to your apartment.

The drive back was mostly quiet. You watched the city lights from the window as Jin typed on his phone. You weren't offended at all, instead, you were grateful for the silence as you tried to remember every single detail of tonight and commit it to memory.

“Sorry, Namjoon is sending me pictures of the exhibit to show me what I'm missing out on,” Jin said with a laugh as he showed you his phone and the very artsy pictures Namjoon had taken.

“Looks nice.” You say slowly resting your head on his shoulder, feeling sleepy from all the food.

“Better than a dinner date with me?” He teases as he fishes his arm out from your body to wrap it around your shoulders.

“That depends. Would the exhibit have that great toffee dessert we had?” You tease as the car pulls up to your apartment.

Jin laughs at your joke and you slowly remove your head from his shoulder when you feel the car stop.

“I know the exhibit wouldn't but maybe your apartment would? Should I come inside to check?” Jin answers smoothly as your eyes widen and you nod.

He smirks at you.

You both make your way into the apartment and you kick off your shoes as Jin looks around. You let him take his time as you shuck off your coat and begin to walk around turning on lamps to cast the space in a warm cozy glow.

“This space is beautiful! Except there is something wrong with your couch.” He says as he also takes off his shoes and shucks off his jacket.

You stare at the couch seeing absolutely nothing wrong with it.

“What do you mean?” You ask him still staring at the couch confused.

“There's a Tata plush on it.” Jin points out and you bite back a laugh.

The day after Jungkook came over you found a strange white package on your doorstep. You didn't order anything but it had your address on it so you carefully tore it open to see a small Tata plush wrapped in tissue paper and bubble wrap.

You shook your head at Taehyung's antics and grinned when you saw a note fall out.

Just a reminder of who was here first baby girl. Missing you

You texted Taehyung thanking him for the gift and he sent a kissy emoji back. You decided to keep Tata on your couch as decoration from then on.

“Yeah, Tae sent that to me as a kind of joke.” You answer as Jin walks over and he rolls his eyes.

“It should be an RJ plush. So much better you know.” He teases with a tilt of his eyebrow.

You laugh as he pulls you in closer and your breath hitches. He is even more beautiful up close as his warm hands wrap around your middle bringing you flush against his strong chest.

You smile up at him and before you know it he pulls you even closer causing your noses to brush and his lips to meet yours halfway.

You kiss him softly and slowly, letting him take control as he takes his time exploring your mouth. His hands run up and down your back making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He pushes harder against you and you gasp which gives him time to lick at the seam of your mouth. You feel your body tingle with desire when you run your hands up and down his broad shoulders and his hands tangle in your hair.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw and hold it steady as he very slowly tilts your head back so your jaw and neck as exposed to his soft lips.

His kisses are warm against your skin and he sucks light marks into your neck which has you pushing your body into his.

When he sucks harder his name falls from your lips in a drawn-out moan and he pulls away grinning at you.

“I wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you.” He admits as you blush under his gaze.

He confidently grabs your hand and takes you through your apartment until you are both standing in the bathroom.

You can't help but laugh.

“Jin my bedroom is the next door over.” You say as he steps towards you until your body is flush against the bathroom counter.

Jin's eyes are dark and his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

“I was thinking we could fuck right here. If you'd be up for that.” He responds darkly as you shiver under his gaze and he grabs your arm to spin you around so you are facing your own reflection.

“You mean shower sex?” You almost whisper as you can feel the tension in the room rise. His eyes are dark and staring into yours through the mirror as his hands come up to trace your curves over your dress.

“I mean I want to fuck you against this mirror so you can watch how good I make you cum.” He answers as you shiver and nod.

“Use your words, princess.” He demands as his hand plays with the zipper at the top of your dress. Your eyes are blown wide with lust and you answer him, your eyes never leaving his piercing stare through the mirror.

He chuckles and his hand tugs on the zipper of your dress. He takes his time dragging it down, so slowly you are squirming when he finally gets it zipped down to your hips.

“Step out of it for me princess.” He commands as you comply and kick the fabric out the door.

“God your body is perfect.” He mutters as his hands explore your body. He takes his time with you, hands lightly grazing your skin making goosebumps appear as he unclips your bra and throws it to the floor.

His hands replace the bra as he cups your breasts and lets his thumbs flick over your sensitive nipples and you arch your back into his body as a moan falls from your lips.

“Such a pretty girl.” Jin coos as his hands massage and grope at your breasts. You grip the counter for support and your eyes roll back when he pinches a nipple between two fingers.

“And so responsive too.”

You don't bother to answer instead you let him explore your body. His hands begin to massage the underside of your breasts and soon enough they are moving down to your underwear.

You tilt your head back to rest it on his shoulder and try to keep your eyes open to stare at what is happening through the mirror.

You have never had an out-of-body experience before but you feel like this is as close as you'd ever be to getting on.

“Can I take these off?” He asks motioning to your underwear and you nod frantically.

As he did with your dress he takes his time taking off your underwear, sliding them painfully slowly down your butt and thighs until you can take them off and kick them out of the way.

You are stark naked in front of him and he is grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

“Gotta be honest. I'm really glad Namjoon couldn't attend tonight. This view. Better than any art exhibit.” He says as he places a soft kiss on your shoulder and you melt into his touch.

You whine out his name and his eyes snap to yours in the mirror reflection.

“Didn't I tell you, princess? You have to use your words.” He teases as his hands run up and down your hips and you once again arch back into him, delighted to feel his hard-on pressing against your back.

The feeling of his hard cock trapped in his slacks has you gasping as Jin continues to pepper kisses along your shoulders, his hands still exploring the expanse of your naked body.

“Want to see you too Jin. Wanna see you naked.” You whimper as his lips leave your neck and he grins at you through the reflection.

He takes his time taking off his necklaces and placing them on the counter and when he finally gets his shirt over his head you gasp.

His body is tanned and toned. His shoulders look even broader without a shirt and you can't stop your eyes from wandering down to the very obvious bulge in his pants.

“Pants too. Wanna make you cum.” You plead as you try to spin around to help him take off his belt but he's too strong and keeps you caged against the counter, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he pushes his hard cock into your back, keeping you pinned.

“Let me make you cum first.” He says as his hands start to move towards your core which is soaked with arousal.

You spread your legs to give him better access and he chuckles against the damp skin of your neck.

“I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?” He asks as his hand finally comes to your center and he drags his finger through your arousal.

You throw your head back and whine loudly as Jin's finger comes up to play with your aching clit.

“Please. Fuck. Please Jin.” You beg as he smiles and swipes your arousal on his finger and pops it in his mouth.

You watch him suck his index finger and wink at you and you are pretty sure you have acceded and gone to heaven.

Once he cleans his finger he grabs your hips to angle them backwards and grabs a bath towel to kneel on.

You step back to give him some room to kneel in front of you and grip onto the counter for support.

“I told you I wanted you to watch yourself cum. Your eyes close. I stop.” He says as he presses warm kisses up your thighs and you spread your legs wide.

He doesn't give you a chance to answer as he dives right in and starts to lick at your pussy.

You groan and try your best to keep your eyes open as he licks and sucks at your clit, making pleasure shoot through your veins and your legs shake.

His hands come around to grab at your ass and push your pussy onto his face and you struggle to stay upright when he switches between long strokes and quick ones.

“Eyes open love.” He reminds you before diving right back in.

His hands are kneading your ass and trying to hold you steady as you are a mess of moans above him. Everything feels so sensitive and so good and you know you aren't going to last as long as you would like to.

His tongue circles your clit and your hand reaches down to card though his feather-soft hair. His eyes lock on yours and he dares to wink at you as he eats you out with such precision you are sure your neighbors are going to put in a noise complaint.

You feel the coil of pleasure getting tighter and you try to hold off. You try to savor it as much as possible and not cum on his tongue after only a short while of him eating you out.

But of course, Jin is not having any of that and he pulls his tongue away and quickly replaces it with his long fingers.

One finger enters you and you feel your eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

You snap your eyes open when he delivers a harsh slap to your thigh and you stare down at him in shock.

“I only had one rule princess. Come on now keep those pretty eyes open for me. Watch how good I make you feel.” He demands as you steel yourself and try your best to keep your eyes locked on your reflection.

Something about watching yourself get pleasured is super erotic. You've never watched yourself have sex but seeing your nipples tighten, seeing how your body shakes when he curls a finger deep inside and adds his mouth to your clit which has you moaning and grinding your pussy on his face is super erotic and bringing you close to release.

“Jin. Fuck. Close. So close.” You cry out as your hands tangle in his hair and he adds in another finger and begins to scissor them, stretching you out as his tongue laps at everything your body is giving him.

Your toes curl against the tile floor and you cry out his name as you cum. You arch your pussy into his face and try your best to keep your eyes open as you ride out your high.

One hand is gripping his hair the other is gripping the sink and your legs shake uncontrollably when you realize he is not stopping.

“Jin.” You pant out, voice shaky and fucked out as he removes his hands but is still lapping at your clit at lightning speed.

“Too-mu-much Jin, please. Fuck.” You beg out as you stare at him in awe. He is not stopping and you can already feel the overstimulation take over as your legs shake violently.

You are on fire and you try warning him that it's too much. That you cannot handle another orgasm but the words are punched out of you when another orgasm steamrolls its way through your body.

Your eyes close as you ride his face and he pulls you even closer to him as he laps and sucks at your dripping core, cleaning up all of your desire.

Your hand leaves his hair to grip at the counter for dear life and you slump down pressing your naked torso against it and try your best to calm your breathing.

Your legs are shaky and unstable as Jin gets up from the floor to hold you steady as you come down from your high.

Once you feel stable you open your eyes to peer at him and you whine when you see your arousal coating his plump pink lips. He grins at you and releases your body as he works his belt open and pulls his pants down.

His boxers are dark blue but you can still see a pre-cum stain on the front as he pulls them down and lets his hard cock slap up against his abdomen.

“You gotta. You gotta give me a minute.” You pant out as you watch his hand circle his cock and lazily pump it.

“That was so hot.” He said as he continued to pump his cock and watch you through the mirror.

His hair was sweaty and pushed back, his eyes were wide and dark with arousal and his lips were pink and glossy from your cum.

And his cock

God his cock.

Standing hard and proud in his hand as he jerked himself slowly, thumb flicking over the head to smear pre-cum down the shaft.

He was beautiful.

“Gotta warn a girl before you make her cum twice.” You tease as he comes to stand next to you and you swat his hand away.

You circle his cock with your own hand and copy the movements he was doing earlier.

His dark eyes flutter closed when you rub your thumb over the slit and you squeeze his cock a little harder which has him groaning.

“Keep your eyes open Jin. Don't you wanna see how pretty you look when you cum?” You tease as his eyes open and he glares at you through the mirror.

“Smart mouth huh? I should put it to good use and shut you up.” He utters which has you pumping his cock harder.

“I mean if you want me to suck your cock you could just ask. Use your words.” You mock as he swats your hand away and steps behind you, pressing his hard cock against your ass.

“I'd rather cum in your pussy than cum in your mouth.” He says.

“Then do it.” You goad as you arch back pushing your ass into his cock teasingly.

Just as he is about to reach for his pants you move to the side to slide open the cupboard that is above your toilet. Mostly it has medicine and some everyday makeup products but you also keep condoms in there just in case.

His eyebrows raise in surprise when you hand him the foil packet and he opens it and rolls the condom down his hard cock with ease.

He positions the tip of his cock at your entrance and you whine as he runs it up and down your slit.

“Jin don't tease.” You beg as his free hand comes up to squeeze at your breast again.

He doesn't respond, instead, he continues to tease at your slit with the head of his cock, soaking it in your juices and making you whine and push your hips back, trying to get him to enter you.

“Jin I swear to god.” You threaten as he laughs at your impatience and finally slips himself inside.

The stretch is tight and he takes his time inching into you until his torso is flush against your back and you both are panting hard, staring at your reflections.

“Fuck Jin.” You whine as you bow forward head hanging low as you take deep breaths to try to calm down the sting.

Slowly he brings a hand up to your left shoulder and pushes on it so you are forced to lean back into his body, your head thrown back so it rests on his shoulder as you open your eyes to see him staring at you in absolute awe.

“Relax around me, princess. That's it.” He praises you as he draws patterns on your bare skin and kisses your shoulders.

“God you are so beautiful. Keep those eyes open for me. Want you to see how good you look when you take my cock.” He mutters as you very slowly start to push back on his cock to move him inside of you.

“And you're....fuck... Jin.” You moan out as he starts to shallowly thrust inside of you. His hands come to rest on your hips for support as he takes his time with you, letting you adjust to his cock.

“Handsome? Yeah, I know.” He teases with a sly grin as you roll your eyes at him.

“Is that why you wanted to fuck in front of a mirror. So you could stare at yourself?” You say as you shoot your hips back to keep in time with his shallow thrusts.

“Nah I wanted to stare at you. My reflection is just an added bonus.” He responds as you smack his arm and laugh.

“There you go princess your relaxing against me.” He says as his thrusts start to pick up the pace and you whine and feel your eyes start to roll in the back of your head.

“Jin. Please just fuck me.” You beg out feeling the uncomfortable stretch be replaced by slow delicious pleasure.

He looks at you in the mirror and you nod before he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

You whine out as he starts to build at a steady pace. The sound of slapping skin echoes in the bathroom and you push back in time to meet his thrusts.

“God your pussy is so good.” He grits out as he angles his hips and hits that spot inside of you that has you crying out his name and fluttering your eyes closed at the sensation.

“Eyes open love.” He demands that it takes everything in you to open your eyes and stare at yourself in the mirror.

His cock is fucking into you and hitting your g-spot with every thrust. It's not long before you feel the coil of pleasure starts to build again. Your hand grips the counter and you can see the faint blush on your chest and cheeks as he fucks up into you.

Jin looks so beautiful behind you. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair is pushed back from his forehead. His lips are bitten in concentration and his hands are holding your hips roughly as he picks the pace.

“Fuck.” You cry out when you feel his free hand come down to smack your ass. He starts to fuck into you harder spurred on by your moans and whines.

“Please Jin fuck.” You cry out not even sure what you are begging for as you feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

He must understand because one arm wraps around your chest and pulls you back into him so your bodies are flushed together once more, and the other hand snakes down between your legs to find your clit.

You cry out when he circles your clit with his skilled fingers and you are grateful he is holding you tight against him because you are so sure if you were to stand on your own you would fall to the floor.

“God baby you're squeezing me so tight. Gonna cum soon? Cum around my cock like a good princess?” He asks as you cry out and feel arousal shoot through your body at an alarming pace.

Your body is on fire with need and when he pinches your clit between two deft fingers you lose it. You throw your head back and cry out his name as you cum around his hard cock. You try your best to keep your eyes open and watch as you come undone around him.

Sweet whines and moans fall from your lips as he continues to pump inside you as your walls flutter around his cock and squeeze him.

“C-Close.” He groans out and you can hardly hear him over the blood pounding in your ears he grabs your hips and starts to fuck up into you at a wild pace which has you moaning and whining his name, not long after you feel him twitch inside of you and cum hard inside the condom.

The feeling alone has your toes curling against the floor and you gasping as Jin rides out his high with his face pushed into your back and small pants and whines leaving his plush parted lips.

How long you both stood there you weren't sure, his arms were still wrapped around you holding you upright and the room reeked of sex and desire as you both waited for your breathing to even out.

After a short while he pulled his already softening cock out of you and disposed of the condom in your garbage pail.

You stared at him through the reflection and smiled shyly as you both reached for your clothes.

You dressed in silence letting the euphoria wash over you both and once you were dressed you were walking him to the door.

He put on his shoes and grabbed his coat and you smiled up at him. He pulled you in for a soft and slow kiss which had your heart once again racing.

Gone was the fiery need and desire and instead this kiss was slow and sweet. He took his time exploring your lips as if it was the first time you both were kissing and that thought alone had you smiling against his mouth.

He pulled away and grinned down at you, a cute pink flush covering his cheeks.

“Thank you for dinner.” You said to him softly.

“Thank you for...well thank you. That was...wow.” He replied running a hand through his hair and pressing another kiss to your cheek.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he pulled away and he smiled at you.

“That's my ride the driver must already be here.” He said softly.

You nodded as he gave you another soft kiss and promised to text you again.

When you woke up the next morning you were convinced the whole thing was a dream, the only proof of it happening was the ache between your legs and the dress that was pooled on your bedroom floor because, after your night with Jin, you were too tired to properly hang it up.

You got ready for work and just as you were about to leave someone knocked on your door.

Confused you answered it to see the mailman standing there with a package for you to sign. It was a box, a large box.

“I didn't order anything?” You said in absolute confusion as the man double-checked the address and handed you the box.

You closed the door and set it down on the counter. You grabbed for the kitchen scissors to open the box and when you did you laughed in surprise.

The box was full, and I mean full of RJ memorabilia.

A note was taped to the top of the box which made you shake your head and grin.

Found something better to replace that tata on your couch. Thank you for last night- Jin. 

Tag List

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝐴 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

𝐻𝑎𝑧𝑏𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒!𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

This is a series so if you'd like to be tagged simply just comment!

Not too happy with this chapter but hope it's good enough 😕

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Reblogs and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Part one ← Part two → Part three

Summary: When Charlie is called to heaven for a meeting instead of her father she is ecstatic but she meets a boy with some very familiar features..

Warnings: cursing, Adam mentioned, rlly weird layout, idk what else, probs spelling mistakes and weird grammer

Where am I??" Was the only thought coursing through the boy's mind?

He couldn't hear anything but his thoughts, everything else was muffled as if he was underwater, he strolled mindlessly throughout the forest, there were lush plants and exotic flowers of every tone and shape.

He could see birds and insects, things they did not have in his new home...

As he walked forward, it was like he was being pulled, like he didn't control it...

He heard a voice call for him...

"ƙׁׅյׁׅ݊ꪀյׁׅժׁׅ݊ᝯׁׅ֒꯱ dear?? Where-" was all he heard, voice silencing before he heard a yell...

He couldn't make out words but he heard a male's voice shout, who were they shouting for??

As he stumbled through the thicker, darker patch of forest he reached a tree, an apple, sparkling and juicy, shaped like a heart hung from a branch. Just as he went to grab it,

someone clung to the skin on his leg.. Or something.. Biting down on his flesh.. His pale skin turned pink and oozing a cherry-coloured syrup.

As he turned to see the blood dripping he shot up, dripping in a cold sweat as his face whitened.

That dream. Again.

It had been haunting him, it happened every so often but now more than ever. It was always the same.

He wanders, a woman calling for someone and a man screaming then sees the Apple and tries to grab it before being bitten. Then waking up before being able to see the creature.

But what was it?.. He sat up on his bed, grabbed a yellow shoebox from under his bed, he placed it onto his milky white duvet.

He peeled the lid off the box, revealing a little rubber duck... He didn't know where it was from but he had had it for as long as he could remember, there were a few photos of him and his friends... Mainly Emily.

There were a few random things, buttons and feathers, but he finally found what he was looking for, a folded sheet of parchment. He opened it revealing a drawing of the forest, mainly the path he walked and the paths he could see.

He took out the red pen and drew the figure of a woman, shouting... He couldn't see the figure's face or features but he could tell it was a woman.

His father could never see this, nor Sera. They'd think he was plotting against something.. Which he'd never do. He wasn't a monster.

At the bottom of the box was a small gift from Emily, a little box that had been wrapped with gold ribbon. Inside was an apple... An actual real apple.

He hadn't a clue where she got it but it was gorgeous. So shiny and juicy, plump and red, a delicious bloody red...

He had never understood why they were forbidden anyways, yes because of The Fall but surely the fruit wasn't the problem..

He couldn't blame Eve.

He wouldn't have resisted either.

His silence was broken by knocking on his door. "(M/N)? Son? I'm heading off to my meeting, there's some food on the table, take care!"

It was his dad, it was thoughtful of the man to let him know he was leaving but it scared the boy shitless.

He got himself dressed and got to work on his heavenly duties, he strolled through a building, looking for Emily, he had to tell her about his dream.

As he walked past a meeting room he could hear a familiar screeching voice, Adam.

And a voice he hadn't heard before?.. A young girl? Whatever. It wasn't Emily so it didn't matter, he continued to walk until the voice got louder, almost like it was behind him

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!"

Miss? He turned to see the person who had been shouting, it was a girl.

She had red glowing eyes with the sclera being a strong yellow color.

Her hair was the same straw blonde colour as his hair, it was tied up into a strange ponytail, in circular shapes almost, she was wearing a blood-red suit and her cheeks were rosy and pink.

What a strange angel... She didn't even look like an angel...

He just turned and continued to walk, going to find Emily.

..............................................................................................

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven and ruled by beings of Pure light, Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil..." A blonde girl read aloud,

As she flicked through the pages she looked at the part in between the section where Lucifer and Lilith tempted Eve and the banishment.

It was burnt, the small gap, unnoticeable at first glance, but with the number of times she had read it, she could tell someone had burnt out a few pages, burning part of the story...

"Charlie?" Her girlfriend said at the doorframe, an extermination had just happened, she looked out the window at the burning city.

She needed to put a stop to this, these sinners surely didn't deserve it. Well at least some of them.

The day seemed to melt away quickly, they had talked about commercials and... Well they all had some unique ideas...

Her phone started to ring, and she jumped up and went to answer it.

It was her father? Strange... He never called.

But he wanted her to go to heaven instead of him? Holy shit... Maybe she could change heaven's mind after all...

Before she knew it she was there, heaven..

When Charlie arrived she noticed how pristine everything was, light, bright, the place was practically blinded by white light.

She now stood before The Adam, or as he called himself (much to her dismay) The original dick. She had put all the ideas she could (before he'd interrupt) onto the table but they smushed it all.

To sum it up... The meeting went horribly. She had not only been turned down but completely ignored. Her whole life she had believed angels to be kind, caring creatures... There was a reason they made it up there after all.

But she wasn't so sure now. She wasn't so sure about anything anymore.

As she was leaving she saw a pair of wings stroll past the door, they were full and stuck out proudly, glowing a bright white. The feathers looked almost like cotton candy as they surfed the breeze, one or two floating off.

One had dropped at her feet. She picked it up before trying to get a look at the angel, they had long blonde hair, and she presumed it was a woman.

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!" She shouted about the feathers, maybe the angel would need them? Or maybe she just wanted to see the angel's face. She couldn't tell but she felt somewhat connected to the being.

The angel turned gracefully, piercing eyes staring through her, beautiful, beautiful eyes, they were the colour of a rich berry, a beautiful purple, like a flower, soft and delicate. Yet the angel's stare could have ripped her in half by that alone.

Charlie stood there, not making a sound so the angel turned around. Bored with her it walked off through the corridor.

She needed to know who this was and why they looked like her mother.

..............................................................................................

"I still dunno what ya mean by 'she looked like my mother' toots, who are ya even talkin' about again?" Angel replied, pouring himself another drink as Charlie told the spider demon bout the meeting and her encounter with the angel.

"I'm telling you!! She looked just like my mom!" She said, waving a picture of her mother in front of Angel's face.

"Jeez, okay calm! I get it!" He slapped the picture away "Why are ya so bothered though?"

"I don't know. I just felt connected to her.. " she said, petting Keekee, who curled into her lap and purred at the affectionate touch.

"For all you know it might've not even been a girl, just let it go toots" he took a big swing of his drink before pouring another drink.

"I'm telling you I feel connected to them, I... I know they looked like my mother." She sighed.

Hopefully, she'd be able to go up to heaven soon, to win them over and to see that angel again.

Tag list - @demstarno @kenny-619 @bunbunboysworld @lovedesperatevampire

@honey-valentin3 @type-ink

[suckerforlovesblog]

Pretty little thing

Pretty little thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 1: The perfect girl

Summary: Thomas Shelby is out searching for a wife. Most young women in Birmingham throw themselves at him but he doesn’t like that and goes out further to search for the perfect girl to be on his arm whilst hanging on his lips.

Chapter Warning: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 1.5k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy @tommyshelbywhore @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay89 ~

I‘m very intrigued to hear your thoughts!

Also: please let me know what you would like to read! My requests are OPEN!

End of 1925:

Thomas Shelby was still grieving the death of his beloved wife Grace, even after an entire year, and everyone around him knew. He did blame himself for her death because he gave her the bewitched jewel to wear and even put it onto her himself. And she wore it that night, like a target painted on her forehead. But business had to keep going and Charlie desperately needed a mother figure in his life. Frances, the maid, was doing her best and Ada and Polly came to help out from time the time but it just wasn’t the same. He had even hired a governess, a very pretty thing, blonde and petite and at least fifteen years younger then him, to attend to his son’s needs because he couldn’t always be there for him. Thomas who was now nearing forty, also really enjoyed the governess presence, at least when he bend her over a table, fucked her from behind and she didn’t talk. Other than that he avoided her most of the time and let her do her work.

She fulfilled his needs but it didn’t help him with business.

So, Thomas Shelby called a family meeting at Arrow House and now everyone was sitting in front of him in the drawing room: Arthur and Linda, John and Esme, Polly and Michael, Ada, Finn, Charlie, Curly, Jeremia and his son, and Lizzie, of course. Sometimes he still slept with her but she would never be good enough to be his wife. He did like her but Lizzie’s social standing was beneath his new position as a business man.

“Thank you everyone for coming, eh!”, Tommy’s voice boomed: “I have an important announcement to make and I think I need everyone’s help.” All the people in the small room looked at him. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then said: “I decided that it’s time for me to remarry. It will be good for business.” Lizzie looked at him with wide sad eyes, knowing he would never share the feelings she had for him. Arthur stood up, smiling and went up to give Thomas a small hug, “Proud of you, Tom. Linda will help for sure.” Everyone else looked reassuring and Curly started babbling something no one was able to make out. “May I ask what kind of business you think of concluding?”, Polly said. “Yes but I will not tell just yet ‘eh.”, Tommy says, wetting his lip, “I just think a wife will open up new branches for us and make the company more respectable.” He then puts a cigarette between his lips, after fishing it out of the gold case from the pocket of his coat: “Anyways today is a day to celebrate and I invite you all to dinner. Now, Michael, John and Arthur stay, everyone else I see at dinner.” Thomas lights his cigarette whilst everyone leaves the room except for his brothers and Michael. He sits back down and explains the guys what he’s looking for in his future wife, mostly talking to Michael because the girl should be around his age, a very desirable age in his opinion. The four men make a plan to start the search for his wife tomorrow, starting with all the respectable families in Birmingham and then toast to their success with Irish whiskey, of course.

Early spring of 1926:

Thomas and Michael looked at all the young women in Birmingham, from a respectable upbringing at least. John joked that the two of them fucked their way through Birmingham and that was true to some extent. None of the girls satisfied Thomas’ needs however and Michael was growing tired. “If you keep going like that Tom, we will never find a girl for you. One is not tall enough, the next one doesn’t have enough tits, another one is too stupid, then she is pretty but not gorgeous. This is exhausting.”, Michael says looking at him from the drivers seat of the new Bentley Thomas got. The car was extremely luxurious and expensive.

“Well Michael, we gotta find the perfect girl for me, eh.”, he answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, “She needs to be smart and eloquent for me to be able to bring her around business partners. But she ought to be gorgeous as well because then negotiations will be even easier because men are dumbstruck if they’re accompanied by beautiful women.” Michael also lights a cigarette: “I get that Tom but if we keep going at that speed my dick won’t work anymore with the girl I may marry in the future because I emptied everything I have into some girls” They both laughed and kept driving to meet Alfie Solomons in Camden Town for business.

After driving past the first couple of buildings, he barks at Michael to stop the car and Thomas basically jumps out. He brushes his coat down, fishes a cigarette out of its case and puts it into it mouth leaving Michael more than puzzled. Thomas started walking towards a building, lighting the cigarette with a match and then enters a shop, a tailoring shop it appears. Michael still sits in the car, smoking a cigarette as well and waiting for him to come back.

Thomas looks around the shop, searching for the woman he just saw. He only saw her side profile but Tommy knew she was the one, now on his way to make her his, willing to do whatever it might take and hoping she wasn’t already married. Fuck, even if she was, he were to make her his for sure.

He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the little bell ring as he entered through the door and then the people inside the shop turning to him. The pretty woman he searched for was sitting behind a desk to his right and he made his way towards her but was stopped abruptly in his step by the owner of the shop. “Sir”, the small man called out, “how may I help you?” “Aye, I need a new suit please and may I have a word with the young lady at the desk?”, Thomas answers. “For sure”, the man says in a low purr, scarred of the dominance in his voice, “we will leave you to it, Sir.” Tommy nods and the man leaves the shop through the back door, pulling a women behind him.

Thomas approaches the woman. She was already looking at him through her Y/E/C eyes, smiling lightly. “Hello miss, my name is Thomas Shelby, owner of the Shelby Company Limited. I saw you out in the street and you caught my eye”, he said and smiled an earnest smile. “My name is Y/N, my farther is the owner of the shop.”, the girl answered. He looked at her thoroughly and she got even more prettier the longer he looked at her. Although Thomas didn’t feel any affection towards her but she was very pretty for sure and he knew that she would be the perfect wife: young, a pretty face and fine features, nice hair, a slim figure. Her voice was very calm and had a pretty sound to it. He knew she would be the perfect little thing on his arm. He looks at her with his icy blue eyes, “Tell me sweetheart, how old are you?” “I just turned 18, Sir”, she said. The obedience and innocence in her voice made him hard, without help anyways, for the first time since Grace died. His heart ached for his lost love but he needed this to work and pushed the face of his dead wife out of his thoughts. “You’re not married, eh?”, he asked the girl more nearly twenty years younger then him. She shook his head, seemingly submitting him to, scarred of his booming figure. He really liked that and smiled: “Please get your farther to me, I need to speak with him. In private. And take the measurements for the suit I ordered, will you sweetheart?” She got up, nodding and getting her farther at first, afterwards measuring him and writing all the details down for his order. She was sent out shortly after, leaving her farther with the unknown man with the pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me Sir, is everything to your liking so far”, the old man asked Thomas. “Yes, indeed”, he answered with his thick Birmingham accent, “I would like to marry your daughter. I know this sounds rushed but she immediately caught my eye and I can provide for her very well.” The older man, the girls farther, looked at him reserved and averse. Thomas looked at him with his blue piercing eyes, radiating pride and dominance and the older man submitted. “Listen, eh, I give you a great deal for her and promise to provide and care for the girl.”, Thomas says, putting another cigarette between his lips, letting it dangle for a little while before lightning it with a match.

He pursued the conversation for a little while longer, settling everything important, like the wedding date and the money the family will receive. After it was all settled Thomas went outside of the shop, calling Michael to set up and then seal the document.

The girl came back into the shop, Thomas walked over to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him confused but he just smiled at Michael: “Meet my darling fiancé, Y/N. We will be married in two weeks time and she will be Mrs. Shelby.”

[vodika-vibes]

Enemies to Loves?? Character doesn't matter I just need my Enemies to lovers fill for my fourth wing hangover

Thin Line

Summary: After the rise of the Empire, you, an unwilling Soldier of the GAR, is reassigned to being Crosshair's handler. You hate him, and you think he hates you. Turns out there's a very thin line between hate and love.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: Reader has a toxic family

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was going to do one of the many event requests that I got, but I got it with inspiration for this, and I love Crosshair, so...ta-dah~

You never wanted to join the military.

You were always a bit too…soft for military life. A bit too quick to tears, a bit too sensitive, not quite forceful enough in your everyday life.

You wanted to be an author, or a teacher, or maybe both. The last thing you wanted was to join the military.

But your parents pushed. And pushed. And pushed.

And you’ve never been very good at telling them no. It’s just easier to do what they want. And they wanted you to continue the family tradition of military service.

So you did. You gave up your dreams, as small as they were, to make your family happy. That’s what family is supposed to do, right?

To be fair, you thought that you were going to get kicked out within six months. You’re really, really not made for this lifestyle. And you probably should have been, but your father was an Admiral and your mother was a Doctor at the most prestigious military hospital in the galaxy, and your older siblings were incredibly high ranked in their respective branches…and you just weren’t.

And then the GAR was dissolved and remade into the Imperial Army, and you thought, now. Now for sure they’ll have to discharge me. 

But still, still they kept you. And, much to your blanket distress, it turns out that you're more competent than most of the people you work with. 

Which is exactly how you ended up in your current situation.

The first couple of months after the Imperial Army took the place of the GAR were hectic, but as things settled, you found yourself getting reassigned. You are now, officially, Crosshair’s handler.

It’s quite possibly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Are you incapable of following orders?” You ask the much taller man standing across from you, his arms are folded across his chest and he has a smug smirk on his face.

“Not so good at following orders, sweetheart.”

“Then maybe I should trade you in for someone who is,” You counter.

“You won’t. No one is as good as I am.” Crosshair is the best sniper in the Imperial army, and he knows it, damn him.

“You’re an arrogant asshole,” You say pointedly, and his smirk widens, “Fine. You did, somehow, manage to complete your mission. So, well done, I guess. But you’re stinking up my office, so get out.”

He just leans against the doorframe, “My hot water rations.”

You exhale slowly through your nose, “Crosshair, have I ever limited the amount of hot water you can use in the showers?”

“I’m just waiting for you to actually turn into as much of an asshole as you like to pretend to be, sweetheart.”

“Get.”

And then he’s gone, allowing the door to slam shut behind him. How, exactly, he managed to slam a sliding door is beyond you, but you don’t care enough to try and figure it out.

You’re pretty sure you hate him. From the top of his silver head to the tips of his toes.

He’s arrogant and pig-headed, and somehow managed to turn something that was a traditional sweet pet name into an insult. And he seems to take joy out of making your life more miserable, which is something of an achievement in and of itself. 

But, even so, you would never replace him with someone else.

Because he actually is as good as he thinks he is. And he does complete every mission that you assign him, and there’s never an excessive loss of life, which you appreciate. 

You push your fingers through your hair, and flicker your gaze across the piles of paperwork covering your desk, and then you sigh. 

You really should have told your parents to kriff off all those years ago, and just gone to school to be a teacher.

Still, if wishes were fishes-

You sigh deeply, and pull your hair out of the strict bun to pull it into a looser tail at the base of your head, and then reach for the tallest pile of paperwork that needs to be finished. 

And then your holo chirps that there’s an incoming call.

You glance at your datapad, and check the number that’s calling in, and then you groan when you see the very familiar number flashing at the top of the screen.

Your Dadmiral is calling.

You sigh one more time, and then press the button on your datapad to answer the call.

“Hi dad,” You say, flickering your gaze to the holo for a split moment, before focusing back on your paperwork.

“Hey kiddo,” Your father is an older man, with hair that’s long since gone gray and a beer belly that he’d have to work at to get rid of. You also know, though you can’t see it through the holo, that his nose is reddened by years of alcohol abuse. “Your hair isn’t in regulation, kid.”

“Ah, so you’re calling as my admiral rather than my dad. Good to know.” You reply tiredly, “What do you need, sir?”

He gazes at you severely, and then sighs, “I need to talk to you about the Dantooine mission.”

You lift your gaze, “Dantooine? That was four months ago.”

“Yes, I know.”

You sigh and open your desk to grab the file he’s talking about, “I know I filled out my paperwork properly-”

“Yes, you’ve always been very diligent about that. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” He shifts so that he’s standing at attention, “It has come to my attention that your sniper only killed the men on the list.”

“...yes?”

“Why did he not kill the other members of the cell?”

“...because they weren’t on the list of people to kill.” You reply flatly, “He followed the orders he was given to the letter.”

Your father sighs, “I recognize that. But I hoped that you realized that what the orders meant was that he was supposed to kill all of them.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Hm…I’ll make sure that your orders are more clear from now on.” Your father says, “Now…how are you?”

“Tired. And busy. So if there’s nothing else-?”

“Ah, yes. Right. Well then, I’ll talk to you later.” The call disconnects and you sigh again. If Crosshair knew just how much shit you had to deal with to keep him safe and alive…

Well, he’d likely never believe you. 

No matter. You’ll keep doing what you’re doing because it’s the right thing to do. Not because you like him or anything.

Life continues for you as it always has.

You move from planet to planet, chasing these terrorists. You give Crosshair a list of people he needs to kill, and then you fill out paperwork and move on.

He’s still a dick to you, and you tolerate everything as best as you can.

Still, every now and then, something different happens. 

Today, for example, you have a date. 

A slightly older soldier asked you out to dinner, and honestly, you need to get out and do something before you rip your hair out, or have a nervous breakdown.

So here you are, dressed in a casual dress and some nice-ish heels with your hair loose for the first time in ages, when the door to your office slides open, “Hey, so-” Crosshair stops mid sentence as he steps into your office, and then he smirks and whistles, “Well now, I didn’t know you were actually a woman under that uniform.”

“You’re a pig, and also, don’t you knock?”

“Guilty, and no.” His gaze drags down your body, an almost lecherous grin on his face, “Where are you going looking so dressed up?”

“If you must know,” You reply with a pointed glare, “I have a date.”

“You?”

You glower at him, “Believe it or not, there are people out there who want to spend time with me.”

“With you, or with your family,” Crosshair asks, smirking as you bristle under his comment, “Sheathe your claws, kitten, I happen to think you look nice.”

“You insult me and then compliment me in the same sentence. Stars, you’re so annoying.” You grumble, “What do you need Crosshair?”

He, openly, drags his gaze down your body again, “Nothing. Just wanted to annoy you, and it worked.”

You exhale sharply, “Wow, I think I actually hate you.”

“Yeah, but you’re far too nice to actually get rid of me unlike some of the other Imps.” Crosshair grins at you, and then spins and he’s gone. 

You take a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and when that doesn’t work you take another one. It’s fine. Crosshair just likes getting under your skin, he has no way of knowing that he just picked at your biggest insecurity. 

And even if he did, it's not like he would care.

You take another deep breath, and then you leave your office too. Hopefully this date will go well, you could do with someone to talk to who isn’t Crosshair.

Two hours later, you’re back in your office, your face pressed into your arms as you try to recover from the hurt that your date gave you. 

Crosshair was right.

He wasn’t interested in you, he was interested in your family, and thought that the easiest way to climb the ranks was by getting close to you. And this isn’t the first time this happened. 

In fact, this has happened every single time you’ve tried to go on a date.

The door to your office slides open, and you lift your head slightly. You recognize the armor immediately, “Go away.” You say, your voice muffled by your arms.

“Nah.” Your desk shifts and you lift your head to scowl at Crosshair, “Bad date?”

“You were right. He wanted to use me to rub elbows with my family, congrats. Get out.” You say quietly.

Crosshair doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and then, much to your surprise, you feel his hand on the top of your head, “Did he hurt you?”

“Just emotionally.” You reply.

“...want me to shoot him?”

A muffled laugh falls from your lips, “You can’t shoot someone because they hurt my feelings, Crosshair.”

He scoffs, “Sure I can.”

You lift your head and his hand falls from your hair to your cheek. His touch is hesitant, but he doesn’t pull away. But neither do you, “Honestly, why do you even care?”

“I’m the only one who’s allowed to upset you.” Crosshair replies immediately. 

“You are incredibly frustrating.”

“Yeah, my brothers told me that all of the time too.” He says with a shrug.

“Brothers?”

“Batchmates.” Crosshair clarifies, “They’re not with the Empire. They defected.”

You huff, “Lucky them.” Crosshair’s eyebrows shoot up, and you cough, “Uh…I mean-”

He watches you evenly, “Do you want to defect, kitten?”

“...I never wanted to join the military in the first place,” You admit, “I wanted to be a teacher. But because of who my parents are, no one bothered to even try to kick me out. And then the GAR turned into the Imperial Army and I’m actually competent-”

He watches you evenly, and you lean your head into his hand. At some point his thumb started rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, and you don’t know when, but you do know that it’s soothing.

“Do you have any idea how awful this job is?” You blurt, “They keep pressuring me to decommission you, and I won’t do it because as annoying as you are, you actually are as good as you think you are-” You ramble, “And I’ve never been okay with how the clones were treated and-and and…” You wave your hands helplessly, “Damn it, you’re mine! And they don’t get to tell me to throw you away like yesterday’s trash-”

Your words are cut off when his lips crash against yours.

Crosshair’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, but you’re not thinking about that because his hand is in your hair and his tongue is sliding against your lips.

And when he breaks the kiss, you just blink at him, speechless.

“I’m yours, huh?”

Your face burns, “I…well…yes.” You finally say, “You’re mine to protect and…and it’s probably not what you want-”

“Stop telling me what I do or don’t want,” Crosshair interrupts, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, “I’m glad your date went poorly.” He says, “I don’t want other men looking at you, let alone touching you.”

“I don’t belong to you, Crosshair.”

“Wrong. If I’m yours,” His lips trail up your jaw, “Then you’re mine. That’s how it works. And no take backs allowed.”

“God, I hate you.”

“No you don’t, kitten. If you hated me you wouldn’t be letting me do this.” His lips drop to your neck and he bites down, roughly enough you release a yelp.

“You’re actually the worst.” 

Crosshair grins at you, “Come with me.”

“...what?”

“We’re leaving. We’ll find some backwater planet where no one’s heard of clones or the Empire, and you can become a teacher and no one will ever make choices for either of us ever again.” Crosshair murmurs against your throat, “And I get to kiss you as much as we both want.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah. Okay.”

Grandmother used to tell you that there was a fine line between love and hate, and when you were a child, you didn’t believe her.

But, as Crosshair drags you to his ship, you’re beginning to understand her.

[cozymoko]

THANKヽ(*´∀)ﾉﾟYOU for doing my request (the Mukami sister one)! I loved it so much!!!

You mentioned that Platonic Yanderes are your favorite, so I hope you don't mind terribly if I make another request? Your headcanons for the Sakamaki or Mukami brothers (whichever you prefer!) with a young sister who's energetic and adventurous. She is always eager to try new things (regardless of danger), tends to run off to explore her surroundings and, worst of all, loves to meet new people. Basically a nightmare scenario for her poor brothers haha

RECKLESS, SOCIAL LITTLE SISTER

Note: No thank YOU and keep 'em coming, I enjoy doing them very much! (≧∇≦)

SYNOPSIS: Sakamkai's with little sister who enjoys exploring, is reckless, and loves to meet new people.

Pairing: Sakamaki brothers (seperate) x platonic! sister reader

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, mentions of murder/obsessive behavior in Kanatos' part.

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

SHU SAKAMAKI

The ridiculous amount of energy you have is already enough for him. Shu doesn't so much as try to keep up with your childish eagerness anymore. You'll learn your lesson sooner than later so he does very little interfering with your careless endeavors. That is if they don't cause you any serious trouble.

However, he draws the line at your friendliness. Nothing gives him more of a migraine than your pointless interactions with everyone you meet. It's exhausting, to say the least, and he prays that you'll grow out of it someday. But if it makes you happy as of now, then so be it.

"Tsk, troublesome girl...What do you gain from interacting with strangers? Hah, figures, at this rate I'll have to tie you to a chair."

REIJI SAKAMAKI

You've had your fair share of punishments by Reiji's hand, which was no surprise. For instance, when he caught you dangling from that villainous branch that framed your bedroom window or even seated on your knees to coo to a mere alley cat who caught your eye. He. Was. Livid.

Your need to befriend every person you see is ridiculous. As a young lady, you should be focusing on your studies and extracurriculars he arranged in your stead. There's absolutely no time to be dwelling on insignificant people who will do little to better you. But a little begging goes a long way, my dear.

"Young lady, have you lost your mind? Such behavior is absolutely unacceptable. Have you no care for your safety? This kind of behavior cannot possibly go unpunished."

AYATO SAKAMAKI

Ayato couldn't give two fucks about your "adventures", better yet, he'll tag along just to "protect" you. (Or taunt you for better wording). With you being immortal, death didn't come as easy as other things so he has no real worries for you...safety-wise.

Now, this is the utmost disrespect. How could you possibly want to speak with anyone but him? Ayato is a narcissist so save yourself the pointless arguing, you won't win. He's petty to the point that you almost forget that he's older than you! But I digress, a few shots to his ego and he'll be as good as new.

"Oi, what's the point in talking to other people when Ore-sama is here, you're wastin' your time. I'm way better than 'em anyways!"

KANATO SAKAMAKI

You're lucky. If you weren't his sister, he'd kill you. Everything about your personality plagues him and his sanity. Or whatever's left of it. He found your recklessness to be incredibly unladylike. If ruining dresses was a sport, you'd be a pro and he despises you for it.

Not even his own sister is exempt from being locked away. Kanato may not be as inclined to do it but the option is still on the table. Nothing terrifies him more than the possibility of you leaving or attempting to replace him, he won't allow it. Even if he has to kill everyone you meet.

"Hey! Don't do that, you'll ruin the dress I made you! Uu...You're so careless...hic...are you trying to worry me?!"

LAITO SAKAMAKI

Though not the protective type, Laito never strayed too far from your side. In mild curiosity, perhaps, but mostly for his own enjoyment. If you truly need it, he'll save you; however, don't expect this to happen often. You're a vampire after all, why would he ruin his fun to rescue someone making rash decisions? Even his precious sister is no exception~!

At first, he found your boldness amusing. Ranging from painfully awkward encounters to the potential blooming of new friendships. But he simply cannot ignore the lingering stares you received, some in astonishment and others not so much. That left him in quite a sour mood.

"Ah~! That boy, do you know him? Fufu~ he was definitely flirting with you just now. What a shame, I'd never allow such filthy men to touch you."

SUBARU SAKAMAKI

As we all know, Subaru is awful at suppressing his emotions despite how hard he tries. Nothing will ever prepare him for this heart-stopping behavior of yours. Subaru understands that you're growing up and you can take care of yourself, but even that isn't enough to ease his nerves. Especially not with you taking after your "dumbass of a father", as he'd say.

The first time he witnessed this he almost had a heart attack. His fair skin was drained of every drop of color and he appeared absolutely mortified, which he was. Subaru had left your side for a mere second and here you are, seated at a table, completely engrossed in a conversation with mortals that looked to be your age. All in all, he's just anti-social and protective, don't be too hard on him!

"Oi, don't go talkin' to just anybody, got it? Ha—? what do you mean 'why?' Tch, forget it, I'll beat their asses instead."

[sulfuric-deity]

Hermitcraft Pokemon AU thoughts!

(If using this as reference please tag as 'Hc poke au' so I can see, also feel free to tag me :))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This has been haunting me for a while so I figured I would throw them here for some people to enjoy

Basically this region would have a gym for each type, and the order is pre determined so each gym holds pokemon of a certain level. Once you get through all of them four are randomized to be your big trail at the end, with their real Pokemon.

The pokemon trial is a BIG DEAL needing to be signed up for and then selected as it is so intensive.

The main antagonist is an organization researching 'Sculk' who got infected :)

As well as an unusual myth that seems to be interested in a few of the members. The Watcher.

Now onto hermits and the rough order of gyms!

OTHER ROLES:

Rendog-

He is the host for the trails, the charming man who will guide you along your journey. However, somethings seems a little off about him...were his eyes always red? He is not infected with Sculk like the others think, instead The Watcher is using his eyes to gain information about its victims.

Xisuma-

Head pokemon professor, oversees all other branches of research as well as the trail. Elusive to the public, who has never seen his face, but close with the gym leaders as he is the one who calculates pokemon level for that year. Absolutely distraught at the appearance of Sculk, and values the safety of his friends over himself.

Cubfan-

An odd pokemon professor, researching the effects of pokemon moves on humans. He is considered odd, and many protest actually using people for his trails, but he is very careful and ensures consent. Was chosen to go and supervise the Sculk trials alongside the company to see if its harmful to people. (wink wink nudge nudge)

Mumbo-

The youngest pokemon professor, he focuses mostly on the evolution of pokemon and how and when it occurs. He is likely the professor you would see the most, interacting with gym leaders and Ren. When Xisuma begins to evacuate things, and Cub goes missing he is forced to run everything himself. On top of that, his close friend Grian goes missing. Absolutely crumbling under the pressure of the many tasks.

DocM-

The head of the organization researching the Sculk, he seems unaffected by the possession. (Until too late hehe) Cold on the outside, friendly on the inside he won favor of many gym leaders, even if the HEP and public are skeptical of his involvement. He is determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Cleo-

She is the head of HEP (Human, Environment, Pokemon) who focus on the human treatment of pokemon and the protection against pokemon rampages. They were tasked with monitoring the Sculk situation. With their 'no bs' attitude, you'd think they would have no friends with all the goofballs around, but its actually just a front for their pure sarcasm.

Joe Hills-

A member of HEP who came from distant lands, wont tell you exactly how or why but will spin fanciful tales of adventure. Actually under arrest for breaking pokemon out 'illegally' in his original region. Protected by HEP now, at least for a while.

XbCrafted-

A field expert HEP member, usually taking care of water based missions. He is close friends with Keralis and beef, often teasing that he could defeat their regular teams easy. During a mission to investigate Sculk along a beachfront, he goes MIA. He is eventually found stranded on an island with all his pokemon fainted, talking to a volleyball with Keralis's face on it. He is fearful of the man after being haunted by the small volleyball child.

Zedaph-

The last member of HEP, hard to spot and even harder to understand in a conversation. Smart enough to be offered a spot as a professor but denied it as he 'doesn't want his creativity limited.' Takes care of the technical aspects.

Etho-

Former Champion, held the title for many years before willingly giving it over to his apprentice. He is many peoples spark for wanting to be a trainer, and he is still incredibly talented. (Despite Gem's boasting.) Now he wanders across the land to revisit friends and watch the youngsters train.

Gem-

Current Champion! Rumored to be Etho's sibling or otherwise related she takes great pride in her title. Known as GeminiSlay, her pokemon are ruthless, mostly tanks and quick attackers. She often worries about how the public compares her to Etho despite their obvious differences. She takes care of her gym leaders, but always looks for opportunities to drop in for surprise battles, especially with Pearl and Joel.

Grian-

Very close with Pearl, former water gym leader but retired the position to her after she defeated him. Now he takes joy in annoying the other gyms and assisting Mumbo is his research. Still an expectedly powerful trainer. Snail, marine biologist man, surprisingly smart. Goes mysteriously missing during the Sculk breakout, and is found stolen by one of the legendaries of the region (the Watcher.)

GYM LEADERS:

BdoubleO- Grass

Disgruntled about being the first gym leader faced, but takes great pride in wowing the trail-goers and being a difficult first challenge. He takes excellent care of his gym, and enjoys his trail. He claims to be the only Gym leader who defeated Etho. One of the longest standing leaders. During the Sculk infection, he helps to maintain a safe area and contact Etho for help.

Pearl- Water

Takes excellent care of her pokemon and it shows, they are fiercely loyal and in tune with her. Sometimes seeming to move as one entity. Admires Gem for her determination and skill, the pair have a joking rivalry. Also very close with Tango, she likes having the upper hand in battling. She pushes Tango to train his pokemon better against water types. She leads the search for Grian when he goes missing, facing off against the legendary by herself.

Tango- Fire

A bit hot-headed, he can sometimes gain a one track mind when it comes to his projects and forget about his responsibility as a gym leader. He created his own trail, and ensured it was as far from the scorching flames the trail-goers would expect (Decked out themed.) Close to Zedaph, and often helps in HEP contraptions. When his dungeon starts to gain a consciousness of its own, he is surprisingly delighted, even if it costs him possession.

Impulse- Rock

Stubborn, vengeful, and critical he relies on his combined Gym to help even out his flaws. Despite what he considers fatal flaws, he is intelligent, loyal, and protective of his friends which compliment his other half. Like earthquakes he is a powerhouse with his pokemon, often intimidating trail-goers. Although they are very quickly shown otherwise with his welcoming personality.

Skizz- Ground

Overly trusting, friendly, and slack he relies on his combined Gym to help even out his flaws. Impulse pushes him to grow and match his level, as well as not immediately giving up on a grudge. While he calms and grounds Impulse's intense energy. The pair make a deadly duo and are the trial-goers first introduction to the concept of double battles. Warm and welcoming he surprises a lot of people with his demeanor.

Scar- Normal

While normal types seem boring, Scar would adamantly disagree. They have very few weaknesses, and have the potential to learn to many moves outside of their type! A lover of all pokemon trail-goer expect scar to be easy, but are very wrong. His Persian, Jellie, is not as friendly as her trainer. Distraught by the loss of Grian he is incredibly frustrated he cant go to look for his friend due to his wheelchair.

Keralis- Bug

Wide eyed and not that competitive Keralis aims to just have a good time. He showers any trainer who makes it to his gym with compliments luring them into a false security. Despite not being competitive, he is ranked higher than the rest for a reason. Bug types are underrated. Keralis was terrified when XB goes missing, he completely closes his gym to go looking for his beloved princess.

Ijevin- Poison

Goopy spooky guy, takes great joy in being so relaxed and still absolutely destroying people. Stock up on poison heals and hope he's having a good day! He is also one of the original leaders, and has fallen into a comfortable groove and gained mad skills. Overall reliable, and sturdy.

Beef- Fighting

His bulky figure leads most people to believe he is a ruthless fighter, and while this is true, he also has a heart of gold. During XB's disappearance he too closes his gym, strong arming any authorities away as he searches for his friend. He is the one to first find XB, who is fearful of Keralis after being haunted by the ball man.

Hypno- Psychic

A slinking, cheeky figure. No one has ever seen his eyes, and it is rumored that he can brainwash people with his gaze. It is of course not entirely true, but he continues it as it tons of fun watching trial-goers squirm as he watches them. Close with Wels and Ijevin, who takes great pride in making fun of being super effective against his pokemon. One of the older gym leaders.

Welsknight- Steel

What better category for a knight? With speed and tactic he tears down those who get in his way. He takes pokemon battling very seriously, but only because the competitiveness brings him joy. If he wins or loses, he had an amazing time. Although it can be hard to tell, the glare he gives while focusing would make anyone nervous. He plays heavily into the knight bit, people are unsure if je truly believes it (he doesnt.) But...recently he seems a tad more aggressive. And was he always so fascinated with the colour red? The watcher has taken a particular interest in the knight, and is attempting to use him in much the same way as Ren.

(Joel) Smallishbeans-Dark

His sarcastic ease makes most trainers doubt his skills, and he takes great pleasure in watching their faces fall as they realize it is NOT an easy fight. He is not what you'd expect for the Dark element, and he enjoys using contrast to highlight the shadows rather than just cast everything into night. One of the newer Gym leaders, he insists Etho would not get past him in a pokemon battle, and has spent most of his carrer jokingly threatening the man, and trailing after him to beg for a battle.

Iskall- Dragon

With a cackle he unleashes literal dragons upon trainers, likely named something ridiculous (such as The Sweed). He is very close to Stress, and the object of her terror via adoration tiny pokemon. He is also close with Mumbo, yet they drift apart as Mumbo takes on more responsibilities, due to the secrecy of projects he starts to feel resentment towards Mumbo for ignoring him in favor of Grian and Scar. However that quickly changes as the Sculk is revealed and Grian goes missing. Still reminds Mumbo that he wont judge him and wants to help when things get to be too much.

Stress- Fairy

She finds it absolutely hilarious that fairy types are stronger than dragon, and often terrorizes Iskall. Using the 'pretty but deadly' motif she dances circles around her opponents. Her pokemon are absolutely gorgeous! :) She cares deeply for the other leaders, and helps to calm and care for their mental health as the Sculk attacks happen.

False- Flying

The strongest of the gyms she is known as the 'Queen of hearts', as she often destroyed the dreams of those who dared to face her. She is the last hurdle before the final stretch, trainers often get sloppy now and she takes advantage of it. The longest reigning leader, she doesn't seem to want to retire anytime soon. Very close with Ren, but too busy to immediately notice his changes.... She is vital in helping drive off the Sculk, her powerful team helping to clear infected Pokemon and trainers.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Newly Made Man

Draco Malfoy x Professor!Reader

Inspired by this post, which is originally drawn by Antenna

Summary: Ivy, Daniel, and Olive (Weasley) have asked for you help catching a ferret. You needed an excuse to not do some paper work. Who knew helping a gaggle of kids could lead to a date

“Professor! Professor Professor Professor-!” You would hear the gaggle of students call for you. They always seem to find you whenever you weren’t busy. A mysterious talent they held. As if you would complain. You were once a Hogwarts student as well. You liked the adventure.

“Yes? Ah, you three.” You chuckled, as you saw the trio show up. A pair of red heads, and that silvery violet, right in front of you. The trio looked rather excited. Daniel seemed more so frustrated, Ivy curious, and Miss Olive had that look in her eyes that reminded you so much of the twins. You could only assume something will blow up soon.

“There’s a ferret, and it stole Daniel’s bag-!” Olive would inform you. That had Ivy giggle, as Daniel was getting more and more frustrated. The boy didn’t have the best family life. That bag was nearly all he had to call to his name, after all.

“Oh dear. We can’t have that, can we? Where was it last-“ Before you could even finish the sentence, something skittered between your legs. A clinking bag was being dragged in its mouth, as it ran. The clinking sounds had to be potions, which meant it was Daniel’s. Such a white blur.

“AFTER THAT RAT-!” The red heads screamed, as Ivy tried to clarify it was actually more closely related to a dog or cat than a rat. Jeez, whoever could be the Hermione of that trio?

With a fond smile, you were soon chasing after them. It was rather nostalgic. It reminded you so much of your days as a student. Having Hermione, Ron, and Harry chase after the likes of Malfoy. How often times many a fellow student would tag along, and it was almost a big game between everyone. Almost like capture the flag if you will. Never thought you would miss something like that.

“WATCH OUT-!” Was soon shouted by you, but they were moving too fast. The trio crashed right into a gaggle of other students. They were all in a clump, and groaning. You wanted to assign, but you didn’t want that ferret out of sight.

“IVE GOT IT-!” You reassured, as you kept chasing the creature. You wanted to try and fast a spell, but it seemed to zig zag infront of you. As if aware that you would attempt such actions. Might not be the first time this little devil caused some mayhem. Perhaps it was a students pet? Would explain why it seemed to know where it was going. Managing to avoid dead ends, and not go where there were stairs to slow it down.

“Will you get back here?!” You huffed, as it finally found a place to hide with the bag. Nice and cozy in a tree, at a familiar courtyard. Just snuggled into the branch. Taking a little yawn. As if bored, and ready to slip. Such a mocking thing. Having the bag just out of your reach.

“I swear, every white haired creature I deal with is a pain in the butt. One way, or another.” You huffed, as you just swore the ferret rolled its eyes at you. Seeming to not take your comment too lightly.

“What would you even need a potion bag for? Gonna make some potions?” You would say to the ferret. Wand in hand, and sass on full dial. Sure had the students in the court yard giggle at you.

“Where is your owner?” You asked, as if expecting an answer back. That’s when you looked around. Hufflepuff’s! They should know! Or at least know someone who would.

“Do you know who this ferret belongs to?” You would ask the students around you. After a few thoughts, and whispers, they all shook their heads. No one knew. How strange. White ferret’s aren’t uncommon, so you figured that someone would.

“This school certainly isn’t showing itself to have a good track record with ferrets. Huh? Hope you aren’t another turned student, who played dirty with the wrong crowd.” The knowing tone made said ferret stick its tiny tongue out at you.

“Sassy like the last one too.” A wag of your wand was given, as you were ready to try and cast a spell to get the bag back. Maybe it was something in your tone, but it seemed the ferret had enough play for one day. With its tiny nose, it would nudge the bag off the branch. Narrowly managed to understand what it was doing, and grabbed said bag. As if you needed potions to explode.

“Thank you.” You would give a dramatic bow, as if with a Hippogriff. Another stick of its tongue, before it took its chance to jump on you. Ran right all over your body, before curling around your neck. As if a little scarf. Wet little nose nuzzled your cheek, before it was ready for its nap.

“Cuter than the one I knew to.” You would give it a gentle pet, before going to try and hunt down those students. Quit the sporting look you held now. A pretty little neck piece, that was as blinding white as the clouds in the sky.

Was a rather peaceful walk, you couldn’t deny it. Just enjoying the fresh air. Along with having a companion to snuggle with. Tiny scratches to its little chin. Gave you happy chirps in return.

“Adorable thing. You remind me a lot of a companion I had in school. His name was Draco. Draco Malfoy. Prettiest man I had ever seen. So handsome, and sly. I wonder what life would have been like, if there was no war. So many confusing emotions at the time. Can’t love the enemy, as they say.” You sighed, as the ferret gave your cheek a little lick. As if to comfort you. It was accepted, as you gently brushed your finger down its spine.

“My bag-!” Daniel was quick to point out, and hardly gave you time to register he found you. It was in his hands again. Left to be hugged tightly. Certainly gave him a scare. Ivy was quick to pat his back, while Olive gave the ferret a suspicious stare.

“…….You look familiar-“ She muttered, only for the ferret to quickly hide itself in your robes. Made you giggle, as its little paws ran around your body. Poor thing seemed startled. Olive did have that effect. She was the daughter of George Weasley. That certainly made her friends of peeves. That alone says it all.

“Coward.” Another mumble was tossed, before she would give Daniel’s head a ruffle. The poor boys, pun intended, bag was returned. One of the few things he could call his own. A relief it was. That’s for sure.

“Thank you Professor…” Daniel sighed, as you nodded. Anything for the students.

“Does the ferret belong to anyone?” Ivy would ask, as you would get said rascal into your hands. Just dangling him around, as he looked at you with big silvery eyes.

“None of the Hufflepuffs I asked knew. Seems far too intelligent to just be a wild stray either. Seems well aware of the Hogwarts grounds as well-“ Before you finished, Olive stared daggers at the white furred menace. You heard of the story about the family rat, so you don’t blame her being anxious around creatures. Yet, that was a Weasley stare. A stare that could pull the truth out of you like any Veritaserum.

“Animagus…..And one that I know. Come on, Uncle D-!” She would poke at the ferrets little tushy. Made the small thing give a chirp of annoyance, as you blinked. Uncle D-? Uncle….No. White fur, silver eyes, knowing the Hogwarts layout….

The moment you dropped him, it was a whisper of black and white. As if a swirling mist. All the thematics, to show a slender figure in its wake. With long bleached hair, a tight black attire, with a silvery under bust to ever keep him tall and slender. If it wasn’t for that playful smile you would think it was Lucius.

“For a Weasley, you certainly know how to ruin the fun.” He scoffed at Olive, as she stuck her tongue out at him. Left you all a fluster. Given said ferret had been nuzzling and licking you, and the little secret you spilled.

“Woah…..Draco Malfoy….” Daniel was wide eyed. Of course he would. He himself was a potion prodigy. Much like the Weasley twins, and Draco, were when his age. It can’t help being admire. Sure fueled the man’s ego.

“And why is a Malfoy stealing random children’s bags?” You would puzzle, as he seemed to cringe at such a name. Lucius did make sure it was tainted. That was for certain.

“It’s Black, actually. Draco Black. Took on my mother’s maiden name, for obvious reasons.” He would grit. “-And as for the bag. Well, I was curious. Is curiosity a crime?” Ever the sassy one. Had you roll your eyes, as you jabbed him with your wand.

“Ow ow-! Ok, I did it because….I…Well-“ He swallowed, as the trio were wondering why a grown man would do such a thing. That is, until Olive started to giggle.

“You thought it was funny, huh? That’s something dad would do!” She kept giggling, as he was pink on the face. Guess Draco wanted to be a little bit normal, for once. Actually do pranks, and be childish. Least, that’s what you are getting. Olive did call him Uncle D. It had been so long since you last saw him. You swore he was sentence to Azkaban. Suppose it’s time to catch up.

“Tell him, and you are dead-“ He threatened, as Ivy soon had her wand drawn. Taking the threat rather literal. Had the older man throw his hands in mock defeat, at such a gesture.

“I’ll deal with him, you three hurry off now. It’s almost lunch. Go on-!” You would shoo, as they ran off. Daniel holding his bag tighter, Ivy with a scowl to the older man, and Olive with a two finger salute.

“So……Seems like you finally got along with those red heads…..” You said, as you started walking. He didn’t refuse the motion, and walked with you.

“It’s complicated…..I rather avoid the details. Potter was able to make sure my mother and I avoided Azkaban, and community service was applied instead. Thanks to Po….Harry-“ He would begin to explain his story to you, as you both walked.

A case of laying low, and rebuilding himself. A hard thing to do, given where his father was position in the death eater group. Regardless, you were happy for him. Suppose some exposure therapy to Harry’s family and friends was what he needed.

“Welcome back, than……It’s lunch time, so…..” You trailed off, as he stared at you with shock. Were you asking him out? Why? His name isn’t exactly clean, but well….You missed him. You knew that, deep down, he wasn’t truly a death eater. You do what you can to survive, and sometimes who you survive from is your own family.

“You are insane….Fortunately that was always something I admired about you, back then…..I’ll cover the meal. We-…George pays his employees rather well.” He admits, as you giggled. A smile was returned, as the two of you would make a right instead of a left. Not heading to that great hall, but that rebuilt wooden bridge. To go give Madam Rosemerta a friendly hello.

He’s a new man, after all, so why not allow for a new first impression?

[cranberrymoons]

show me the stars

prompt: ruby (discord drabble) word count: 1,009 rated: t tags: doctor who au, eddie is the doctor, first meetings notes: this prompt only actually fits if you've watched the most recent doctor who lmao but whatevs, enjoy! (you don't have to have seen the ep for this to make sense though)

It's not like he goes looking for trouble. He never has – he’s never had to. It just finds him, whether he wants it to or not.

It’s so much a part of his life that it actually never even really occurred to him that he’s exceptionally accident-prone until he met Robin and she started complaining about the week from hell she’d been having lately. 

“Like what?” he’d asked, only half paying attention as he fiddled with the button on his ice cream scoop. It snapped back then jerked forward, sending the scoop ricocheting out of his hand and into a vat of dirty dishwater. “Fuck.”

“Like, I stubbed my toe this morning,” Robin had said. “Knocked my head getting out of the car, slipped on the floor on my way in and almost had a total wipe-out, bit my tongue during my lunch break earlier.”

And as she went on, describing a thing that basically sounded like Steve’s typical Tuesday afternoon, it started to sink in that – okay, so maybe he actually does have a few more accidents than the average guy. But what was he supposed to do? Walk around in a suit made out of bubble wrap every day? 

Impractical.

It’s a year or two later and two or three more fights lost when it finally fully smacks him in the face that he’s basically a walking disaster waiting to happen. Or rather – doesn’t smack him in the face, in the way that falling objects always seem to. 

It happens all at once, when he’s walking down the street on his way home from work one afternoon in early January. He hears a crack from overhead and looks up, just in time to see a branch falling with startling speed directly at his face. 

He gives a shout, arms coming up to cover his head as he braces for impact, but then it just – doesn’t come. He cracks open an eye and then another, and then he slowly lowers his arms. 

“Nearly got yourself killed,” says a voice from his left. He jumps. “That happen a lot?”

There’s a man leaning against the fence at the edge of the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. His hair is long and dark, and there’s a battered leather jacket wrapped around his shoulders. He pushes off and takes a step toward Steve, and Steve takes one back.

“Where did the branch go?” he asks, glancing up. Because it’s not attached to the tree anymore, but it’s also not embedded in his skull. “And where did you even come from? You weren’t there a second ago.”

The man hums. “Funny you should say that.”

Steve frowns. He doesn’t like the way the guy’s looking at him, eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure him out. 

“Say what?”

“A second ago,” the man says under his breath. He reaches out and pokes a finger into Steve’s chin, and Steve flinches away on instinct. “You really do have perfect bone structure, don’t you? All square-jawed movie star mystique.”

“Okay,” Steve says, taking another step back. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, man. Just – thanks for… whatever you did. I’m just going to go on my way.”

He gets a few paces away before he hears the man’s voice from behind him again. 

“I was here a second ago,” he calls. “You’re the one who wasn’t.”

And that makes just enough not-sense that he falters in his steps and turns back. The man’s leaning again, this time against the side of a big blue box that Steve hadn’t noticed until now.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means ,” the guy says, grin flashing. He kicks his heel against the base of the box, and the door creaks open. “Come with me if you want to live.”

Steve makes a face. “Isn’t that a line from The Terminator?”

The guy frowns like he’s thinking, then he nods slowly. “Maybe,” he admits. “Even better if it is, though, because whatever’s after you is about as dangerous as Arnold Schwarzenegger was in that movie.” 

“Wasn’t he the good guy in the end?”

“No, are you serious?” the guy asks. “Have you even seen the movie?”

“Of course I’ve seen –”

“Stop,” the guy says, holding up his hands. He takes a step closer to Steve. “Do you hear that?”

And Steve… does. Actually.

It’s quiet – so quiet he probably wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t been pointed out to him, but it’s there, a quiet scuttling sound like when you hear a mouse in the middle of the night but can’t tell exactly where it’s coming from. But they’re outside, standing on the street in broad daylight. 

The man’s hand wraps slowly around his wrist and grips tight, and Steve jerks in alarm. He hadn’t noticed how close they’d drawn together as they listened until now, and before he has a chance to wrench himself away, he’s being dragged in the direction of the weird box on the curb. He considers yelling for help – anti-kidnapping support? something? – but before he can get his lungs together, he finds himself being shoved through the open door, stumbling over his feet and screwing up his face as he braces again for impact, expecting to smash into the opposite wall of the tiny space.

But that doesn’t come either, and when he opens his eyes this time, he sucks in a breath so sharp he nearly chokes on his own throat. 

The guy slams the door and surges past him up the walkway – there’s a walkway – toward the middle of the open, cavernous room, where there’s some sort of circular control panel covered in lights and buttons and something that looks weirdly like a toaster? And he’s muttering to himself, saying nonsense under his breath as he starts poking buttons and flipping levers, and then the whole room gives a jolt, and Steve grabs onto the railing for balance. 

The guy looks up. “Pretty cool, huh?”

And Steve, breathless, has nothing to say other than, 

“What the fuck?”

[also on ao3]

[v4mpgutz]

Christmas Tree Farm, König [ DRABBLES ]

— husband könig and you at christmas time :>

husband könig x gender neutral reader

note: this is my first time writing for könig so if something seems suuuuper ooc im sorry :( also! there is no gender mentioned but this was originally written with an afab reader in mind! :]

warnings ! — petnames (sweetheart, meine süße, liebling)

christmas time was always könig's favourite time of year because he got to come home and spend the holidays with you. he'd surprise you, knocking on your front door gently and waiting for you to come and greet him.

-> you furrow your brows in confusion because who is knocking on your door at five in the morning? you open the door, rubbing your eyes before blinking slowly. you see your anxious husband standing there, tapping his fingertips with his thumb. his eyes widen when you practically jump onto his tall figure, wrapping him in a tight hug. his face softens and he wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you steady. he's home.

you're making vanilla chai cookies for your family's christmas gathering and könig comes in, black sweatpants hanging low on his waist. he lazily wraps his arms around your waist, leaving gentle kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder.

-> "love, you're distracting me," you tell him yet he refuses to leave his place. he hums and rubs your hips gently.

"let me help, sweetheart," he whispers to you and you sigh with a nod. he helps you grab out any extra ingredients you need, one of them being flour. he grabs a handful and throws it at your stomach. you let out a gasp, putting a hand up in mock offence.

"uh! excuse me?" you stare at him with challenging eyes and he only gives you an innocent smile.

"i'm helping," he insists.

putting the christmas tree up is not könig's favourite thing, just because he hates having to fluff the branches out. the texture of the fake leaves irritates his skin. he helps you though, because he'd never give up time with you for anything and he loves the way your face lights up as you sing along to silly christmas songs while you circle the tree — wrapping it in tinsel.

-> "mein süße, you're too cute." he says as you hum along to last christmas by wham!.

you laugh and lean up to press a soft kiss against his lips. he smiles down at you, such love and content in his eyes. he zones out for a moment, coming back to reality when you tap him gently.

"help me put the star on?" you ask, holding the glittery ornament in your hand. you'd gotten a new christmas tree this year because könig insisted it had to be taller than he was.

könig doesn't reply, he just lifts you up — holding you by the waist as he waits for you to put the star on the top of the tree.

"okay, hon," you pat his hands gently, "you can put me down now."

könig hums as if in thought and shakes his head. "hm.. no," he tells you before spinning you around so you're facing his chest. you let out a laugh before leaning against him, his body warm compared to yours despite his lack of clothing.

"i love you," you whisper. so quiet, so soft.

"ich liebe dich auch, liebling."

its short im sorry :((( hes so cutiepie though i loved writing this

tags: @konigceo (bc how could i not tag könig's #1 ??)

[klunkcat]

Forget-Me-Nots

rise of the tmnt tags: hurt/comfort, post movie word count: 18.8k characters: mikey & leo, minor leo & don

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information.

It also just keeps happening.

read on ao3 here

This is a fic I wrote basically entirely for @goodlucktai so thank you as always my sun and moon for your constant inspiration <3 Turtle brain rot lives within me permanently and will never die probably

____

At the center of it all, Mikey doesn’t regret it. He knows how angry his family would be, has actually watched from the outside how devastating it is to lose any one of them for a single second— the four minutes and seven seconds after the Krang ship exploded and before he cracked open himself to drag his own portal into existence were their own swan song. He felt the way the world coalesced into a singular black hole of grief that felt impossible to move underneath. He knows this changes all of his family in awful ways, that it'll rewrite them all fundamentally, and the thought makes him want to scream and apologize immediately after his choice solidifies in front of him, but he can’t possibly bring himself to pick anything else all the same. It's not that this is different, but it also is entirely. 

He thinks the problem is, at its core, the fact that he refuses to regret it at all. 

Getting Leo back is an impossibility— Mikey reached through and pulled the millionth of a million chance through and made it possible anyways, because it’s Leo. Because it’s his big, stupid, self sacrificing older brother who never even asked them how they’d feel before diving off on his own. Because a world without Leo and his whip crack jokes and larger than life energy is one he can’t stand to be in a second longer than he already has. Mikey makes it possible, because there’s no other option he will accept. 

He can see it later, all the words Donnie used to describe the choices and paths he burns right out of reality, bright and bold against his skin; there are branches, there are branches of branches. Each one of them splinters up his hands and arms until he can find the one where Leo makes it back. It hurts, and even with Donnie and Raph at his sides, it almost doesn’t happen at all— in fact, there’s many times it doesn’t. 

Mikey’s not supposed to be able to do this, not yet— he can see the years he spends honing this in Casey’s world, all the time and training and drain it puts right on that intangible ball of fire that makes up all of them. There are so many worlds where he can’t figure it out in time at all, but Mikey blazes through those anyways. If he can change things he will, and he will change them again and again until everyone he loves is safe and fine and home. It takes a lot of tries. Maybe that should have been the first warning sign. 

It starts with tingling in his fingertips. Fuzz, somewhere just at the end of himself that by day two, when Leo is conscious enough to hold a conversation in Donnie’s med bay, he almost misses when it gets worse. The shocky feeling is just the adrenaline, probably he thinks. It had been a really intense few days. By the next morning, attempting to text Cassandra and watching his phone fall from his hands for the second time, it hits him that he can’t feel anything in his hands at all.

By lunch, it’s at his elbows, dinner at his shoulders. He realizes that there are whole conversations skipping past; he’s awake and then he’s in bed, then he’s standing alone in the kitchen and he thinks he maybe hasn’t moved in entire days somehow without participating in any single moment of it. His family won’t look at him directly unless he speaks— he realizes what this is, what the burnt out remains of all those worlds had left him with. 

He still can’t pretend he regrets it, even then. 

He should tell Dee, or Leo, or Raph— Dad, Casey Jr., Barry, anyone at all— it’s been too late for a long time already, he thinks. A thousand other worlds where Mikey hits the redo all going 180 on the freeway and smashing into one at hyper speed. He has told everyone, he hasn’t told anyone, he’s redone it all twenty, forty, one hundred, two thousand times— there’s one world where Leo makes it back okay, there’s only one where nothing else goes wrong, and it’s the one where Mikey can’t. 

(There’s a part of him that’s scared, he can admit it. The idea of never getting morning breakfasts, excited team hi-fives, late night living room sleepovers; a million never's of an infinite number of days he’ll never know, it’s enough to cave in the whole of his heart. It’s worse to imagine all those mornings without his big brother, knowing he could have tried.

Besides, he’s Hamato Michelangelo. He’s got a whole house of brothers who taught him about being brave. He’s learned from the best.

When Mikey was younger, his favorite place in the entire world had been the hammock Leo strung up in their shared bedroom. It had been ratty in the way that made it feel extra soft, wide enough to fit all four of them if they curled up. Mikey would fall asleep half thrown across Raph’s shell, arm outstretched to wrap his hand around Leo’s wrist. Don breathing slow and soft on Leo’s other side to lull him to sleep. 

Whenever things were stressful he’d imagine that— the warm cocoon that held his favorite people. The way the light from the hallway as Dad said his goodnight's would bleed through the blue-gray cloth and turn it red and purple and orange, too. The way childhood took time and stretched it out long and infinite, it felt untouchable. 

It’s harder to remember now. The warmth feels like grains of sand he keeps letting slip through his hands, no matter how hard he fights to keep it. 

Another moment he’s supposed to have. Another, and another.

Maybe it’s easier now with the choice already made to feel scared but, he’s somewhere outside himself in a timeline that doesn’t exist anymore and he’s alone. He’s realizing, curled up on the asteroid, floating through expanses of nothing, flickering through a thousand branches of timelines that can’t happen anymore because he broke them, that he’s not sure he’s ever actually been alone.)

It’s fine, is the thing, really. There’s a difference between the slow slide of your family being ripped out right from the center, and this slow blink into something else. They don’t even notice it happen. 

____

“Come on, Raph! It’s just a quick little trip around the corner. What’s the big deal?” 

Raph levels him with a look, it’s the highly specific and patented ‘exasperated older brother stare’ he perfected and should have patented when they were five years old. Typically, the look spells a whole lecture on the importance of respect and believing in the team or something else equally as heartfelt and long winded. The Leonardo flavor to it lately means the chasm in Raph’s forehead is particularly darkened and wearied with concern, and the most he seems to be able to bring himself to do is sigh. 

Leo’s not a fan of the way this whole thing shook them all so deeply, if he’s honest. The tentative way his brothers all lurk nearby has him vaguely itchy with concern right back at them. Besides, he is feeling better, really. Don gave him the all clear this morning to get out of the pseudo hospital bed he’d set up, with stern orders to use a crutch to manage his busted knee as much as possible. He’s a pro with the crutches already, he’ll have them all know. Maybe his back flip up to the second floor had landed a little awry, but he hadn’t fallen over. On his face, anyways. 

No one had seen it happen.

“Leo, Donnie said you were allowed to hang out in the living room. The living room in our house.” 

Leo waves his hand in the air. “Eh. What’s the difference really?” 

“About fifteen point four miles, actually.” Don pipes in, peeking around the corner. “Fifteen point three of those you are not allowed to walk.” 

His family — you gotta love ‘em, but sheesh. Overprotective could be their new motto. So a guy gets teleported to a prison dimension and nearly doesn’t make it out, people have had crazier summer vacations. They’re all acting like if he moves around too much he’ll collapse into a pile of dust on the spot.

He flops backwards on the couch with an over dramatic groan. “It’s boring in here!” 

“So read a comic then,” Raph says, still frowning but in a more pleasantly annoyed kind of way. “Or… learn how to knit. I don’t know— you’re not moving, tough luck.”

“You want me dead,” he says, unthinkingly to the ceiling. To his credit, it doesn’t even take the awkward pause or the tell tale sign of his twin shuffling his lab door closed to make him realize he shouldn’t have said it at all. It’s the type of joke they always make, but Leo still catches the hollowed out look of pain in Raph’s eyes even as he glances away. 

“Sorry,” he tries, just to have at least said it.

Raph shakes his head, swallowing roughly. “It’s cool, just. You— you went through a lot, Leo. At least try to rest, okay?” 

Fine. He sighs, overly loud just to be a pain and re-shift the vibes back into some modicum of the correct orbit. “House arrest. Unjust, I want my lawyer.” 

Raph’s eyes brighten, something less haggard falling away as he turns towards the kitchen. Bingo. “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge.” 

“Where’s Dr. Delicate Touch when you need him, think he’s got a law degree under that PhD?” 

Leo leans back, casually stretching himself farther onto the couch with as much feigned grouchiness as he can muster. A flash of orange catches the corner of his eye— “Ah, Ang! Tell Raph I can totally hang out at April’s. He wants me to steal all of your comics, you know. He said I should go into your room and take all of them while you weren’t looking. I heard him!”

He’s half expecting Mikey to gasp dramatically, or play into it by breaking down into an over dramatic eulogy and demand an apology from their oldest brother. Their usual bit involves a lot of Leo siccing Mikey onto the others like a particularly emotionally lecture filled chihuahua, something that Mikey gleefully falls into. The silence surprises him, mostly he realizes because it doesn’t. 

He peeks one eye over the back of the couch.  

“Oh,” Mikey says, blinking at him like he just realized Leo was speaking. “Ha— good one.” 

His baby brother seems lost in thought, which is typically not a good sign for anyone involved in the Hamato household. Leo’s heart shifts sideways and funny, instinctive reactions buried deep. “Hey, you wanna ditch out and join me here on lockdown? We can watch your favorite cup stacking videos, if you want.” It’s a momentous offer, Leo hates those videos. 

Mikey sort of just… stands there for a moment. Shakes his head, and seems to process Leo’s words in real time. “Oh— no, that's okay. Sorry, I said I’d help April with her art project.” 

Leo humphs loudly, crossing his arms— or at least halfway crossing them, the bad one shrieks at his boldness and he leaves it alone after a moment. The intent is there, probably. “Fine, sure whatever. I’ll just rot here then.” 

Another long awkward pause follows, Mikey staying still, staring just left of Leo’s head. There’s a very quiet feeling in the back of Leo’s mind he can’t place. “Angelo?” He hedges. 

Mikey blinks up at him, expression shifting too quickly for Leo to catch before his million watt grin is back. “Sorry, what?”

Leo squints. “Okay, change of plans. You. Me. Sitting here all night. Re-runs. I’m putting you on baby brother jail duty, it's a very serious role. You have to pretend to keep me in line, and then when the moment strikes, bust me out and go on a wild goose chase halfway across town to restore our former glory.” 

It earns him a tiny giggle from his baby brother at least. “Maybe it’s better you take it easy, Leo,” Mikey adds in, patting his head only semi-patronizingly, to his credit. “Raphie’s just worried about you.” 

Ugh. “Ugh,” Leo says, for emphasis. He tosses an arm across his eyes. “Fine, I’ll just wither away here on this couch all alone while you’re out having fun, whatever.” 

“Naw,” Mikey says. “Never have too much fun without you, bro.” 

Leo frowns at Mikey’s back, as he ambles off towards the half pipe sort of aimlessly. The sudden burst of earnestness is not unwelcome, really, or all that surprising. Mikey and Raph have always been his most emotional brothers. The way Mikey says it is despondent in a way he doesn’t enjoy, though. Like he’s tired. No, more than that— there’s something to Mikey that seems absolutely exhausted from Leo’s vantage spot from the couch. 

His shoulders slump downwards, lacking all of the usual flip switch energy and crowing enthusiasm their baby brother carries with him like a cape. It makes Leo feel— bad, he thinks. Nervous.

Maybe it’s one of those things Raph said that he needs to consider. Charging off into a death portal on his own with a tearful goodbye? Might have been a step too far into traumatic for his babiest brother. Maybe all of his brothers need to work through it on their own a little. He knows Dee has been spending more of his time in his labs than usual lately, that he’s working on a thousand and five back up plans for any scenario remotely like this ever again— as if they stumble across multi-dimensional horror show a-holes every week. Raph has been training extra hard, channelling as much of his focus into some theoretical improvement as he has been with hovering around Leo in case he keels over and perishes or something. 

Mikey has been— actually, he’s not sure what the guy’s been up to. Hopefully art, or skateboarding, although seeing him now, Leo’s not sure he’s been doing much of either. 

“Hey, Mike?” He calls, and Mikey pauses halfway through the door. The sight makes him worry, somehow. 

Mikey turns instantly, “Yeah, Leo? Did you need something?” Like he’d come back in a heartbeat if Leo really needed him, cancel all of his plans and stay glued to his side like Leo kind of wants, embarrassingly. Like he's just waiting for Leo to ask. Maybe they all need to work through a little bit of something. 

He swallows, pauses. “Nah, I’m good. Tell Ape I say hi, okay?” 

Mikey smiles, “Sure thing, bro.” 

____

The days after the incident in New York had everyone tense — news outlets are afraid to talk about it directly, hesitantly breaking news of clean ups and building reports. Their web of distant contacts begins poking through day by day— Leo got a fairly heartwarming message from Hueso that tells him that his family is also at least partially included in whatever footage was retained from everything. It seemed like most of New York has grouped them in the aliens category, and summarily proclaimed them all ‘returned home’, so there’s no immediate danger at least. 

Their usual ragtag crowd of other local mutants seem to know exactly what happened, more or less, which has granted them some pause in their usual problem-dealing. Something something local heroes, supposedly. Hueso even gives him a coupon. 

Casey finds his way down to the lair, then up to an apartment that April helps him set up with her mom and Cassandra after that, and learns how to text painfully and awkwardly with emojis, much to Leo’s horror. Leo’s bruises fade from angry black whorls to yellow queasy splotches, Raph’s eye gets a full all clear from Donnie, and the world keeps turning. Albeit, with a very intense and serious lecture from Dad about Leo taking it easy, slash being grounded for the next month to launch it all into a particularly odd spin. 

He’s been grounded before, he knows that’s not what this is. 

The protectiveness makes sense, even though it chafes at him and makes him grouchy the longer it goes on. April cancels said regular movie night at her apartment and forcefully shoves everyone into their lair so Leo doesn’t have to move, and Dad’s grounding conveniently doesn’t extend to April either. Mikey bakes all his favorite foods constantly, making the kitchen glow with warm spices and sugars. Raph carefully leaves pamphlets on proper stretches out on the coffee table, and Leo’s favorite blanket is always freshly laundered. Don, in his brusque way, finds excuses to sit near him at night so Leo can fall asleep being surrounded by people he cares about. He can’t fault them for it, really. Maybe underneath the bravado and the sheer amount of ‘not thinking about it’ that he’s doing there is a part of him that craves the intense levels of attachment everyone is giving him.

It’s fine like this, he doesn’t want to leave them either. He almost did anyway. 

Before the Krang, before Casey Jr., before the Shredder, the most harrowing experience they’d dealt with was hibernation instincts, learning how to cook food properly. Heat and avoiding illness. The beauty of having a brainiac twin and a dad that had navigated the world of finances and income before everything else, meant that they hit the ground running early. Maybe they’d all been a little bit sheltered, in hindsight. 

Something about growing up with yourself and your family and your whole world in your pocket.  Maybe you start thinking that maybe the world can’t touch you either.

If they’d asked Leo, he’d have said it didn’t matter— turtle luck, true to form and all that. Sure, things had gotten real apocalyptic bad end for a second there, but nothing permanent happened. They’d saved the day, Leo was fine, Mikey had cracked some insane magical connection no one else in the world could do and Raph came back. 

Bruised, sure. Scared, absolutely. Fine all the same. Or at least, he figures it should be fine.

He can see it in their eyes no matter how relaxed he made sure he looked, no matter how loud he talked. The what if, hovering over everyone, waiting to drown the whole room if they let it. Maybe a few degrees off from fine, but whole.

The photograph he carried everywhere now was starting to bend a little, just the hint of a crease where his thumb had pinched it too hard in the middle of the night. Leo figures he understands how they feel, even if he didn’t live through it. Somewhere out there was a Leo that had for a moment been entirely alone. They have time to fix it now though, he figures. The rest will fall into place.

“Whatcha got there?” April leans over the couch towards him. Raph is dozing to the quiet credits of whatever movie they’d been watching — the name of it escapes him, it hadn’t been very good.  They'd all jumped on it because it was something Casey said he’d seen a poster of once, which then started a whole conversation about how he’d never even seen a TV show, and how movies stopped existing because there'd been so little electricity to even play them on, and that had been so sad they’d all bundled him on the couch together to put it on immediately. 

Casey is tucked under Raph’s arm, chin tilted down and sleeping quietly himself; Leo itches for a camera. Don must have wandered off, his blankets still spread out by the foot of the couch— if he squints he can see the blue light of the lab filtering under the door. The light feeling in his chest sinks at the sight. 

Leo turns the photo towards April. “Just a bunch of weird looking mugs and some handsome bald guy, you know how it is.” 

April scrubs her hand across his head. “We should get that framed. It’s a good one.” 

It is, he thinks. It’s perfect. They have a lot of selfies from over the years, mostly silly ones. Blurry Leo’s diving away from angry Donnie’s or prank evidence, or the few Dad keeps in his special binder he thinks none of them know about from when they were younger. They have so many he usually doesn’t even think about any of them in particular. Sometimes the thought of that makes him want to lock this picture in a box somewhere, bolt the door shut and lie down very still. 

“You’re just saying that cause you’re in the middle,” Leo jokes. April winks back at him. 

Looking down at the photo again, there’s a well of warmth bubbling through him he can’t name. His family, all in one piece, grown one puzzle portion larger with Casey lately— he fits, too. Like a space they hadn’t realized was missing. Him and Sunita and Cassandra, and, begrudgingly if Leo has to play nice, Barry he supposes too and— 

Leo frowns. The photo looks… off. Too much space on one side. He doesn’t remember being in the middle, actually, he’s pretty sure he was on the side— Did he bend it too far? He squints, moving his thumb. No, it’s just, off somehow. Like one of those newspaper games, spot the difference, except there’s a pit in his gut like something important happened. April’s expression slow glides into confusion, but Leo can’t even say what it is that’s wrong, only that there’s a portion of him that is suddenly and abruptly convinced that the picture he carried to hell and back is wrong— 

“Did either of you want some popcorn?” Mikey’s voice cuts in, shoving a brimming bowl towards them. “Raphie fell asleep before he could eat his. Well. I kinda hid it from him.” 

“Oh, thanks, Mike,” April bends forward happily.

Leo blinks back— no, the picture is fine. It’s fine, there’s everyone’s faces smiling back at him, not a thing out of place. He is in the middle, oh. He’s maybe more tired than he thought, is all. Jeeze. It is late, he reasons, and the painkillers Don’s been aggressively-minus-the-passively implying he will be hunted down for ever missing make him drowsier than usual. It’s that residual nightmare problem he’s been having, too; night time makes him jumpier, like he’s on a time limit to prove things are really here. Maybe the sleep aid’s Dee mentioned would be a good idea, he’s just afraid of not being able to force himself awake when the dreams take a turn. 

“Want some, Leo?” Mikey’s eyes shine in the TV light, reflective and almost full white with it making him look almost the full alien New York is convinced they all are. “I put extra butter on it for you.” 

“Thanks, buddy.” 

____

The dreams always start out the same. He’s not in the other dimension, not yet — he’s on the ship with his brothers. He’s watching Donnie take a hit, and calculating in split seconds the likelihood that any of them will get out of this at all with dread so violent in his chest it feels like the world is cracking in half in front of him. He knows— he knows, he knows. There’s only ever one choice to make, and he makes it.

Then, sometimes, the earpiece crackles to life. It’s his voice, it’s the Krangs, it’s Draxum’s and Shredder’s and everyone’s tangled together. He’s saying goodbye, but they aren’t through the portal yet— he’s miscalculated the odds and there’s no one on the other side of the line. 

He’s alone even before he’s actually alone, there’s no one to even say goodbye to. 

Or, someone doesn’t leave. Raph stays behind and he’s so overwhelmed with relief and gratefulness he almost misses watching the Krang skewer him directly before his eyes again. Donnie can’t get a block up at all, and the hit launches him faster than Raph can catch up. April’s there and she takes the hit instead. Someone else takes his place, someone else figures it out first and makes him stay behind. 

Or, he never left. He goes through the wormhole and Casey closes it and no one ever finds him at all. Because he made it up, because he’s still there. 

One night he wakes up, and he doesn’t remember how they got him back in the first place. 

___

“Hey, Leo. You want to try running through some training today?” Raph leans across the hallway — Leo’s been itching to move, to do anything. His injuries have all but healed up, the concussion tucked nicely away; despite Donnie’s stern insistence otherwise, he’s got a clean bill of health. He practically leaps to his feet at the words and very aggressively ignores the immediate head rush that follows. He's been sitting around for far too long, honestly, he's determined not to lose an ounce of his usual pizzazz.

“So I can kick your butt, you mean?” 

Raph snorts. “That’s the kind of big talk I like to hear. Just easy ones today though, okay? Butt kicking is a next-month kind of goal.”

“Come on, Raph, I can wipe the floor with you any day.” 

“Uh-huh.” The silence that follows is biting, touché big brother. 

“I can! Few weeks off isn’t enough to unsizzle this sizzle.” 

“Another wholly scathing comment battle where we all remain interestingly unscathed, I see.” Don slinks from the kitchen to the living room, typing furiously at his wrist the whole time. 

Perfect, Leo thinks. Everyone together, the absolute ideal way to burn off the wildfire forming under his skin. Get two birds with one stone in making sure they’re all okay just the same way they’ll be nervously poking at him— turnabout is fair play and whatever, but he’s just as worried back. Everyone’s been… odd, since the Krang. He just wants it to feel right again for a few seconds.

“You too, Donnie. Get your gear, let's make this a full on Leo power hour special. My portalling is even better now; while I’ve been sitting around watching Jupiter Jim reruns I got some crazy ideas. I'll have you know it’s ripe with cosmic…. Idea making. Juice.” 

“Are we just making sounds? Is that what this is? These are just sounds you’re making.” 

“Oh come on, as if I can’t take both of you with one arm behind my back.” 

Don rolls his eyes, making a show of crossing his arms. It’s nice, actually. They’d all been too raw with nerves to be snarky or throw any barbs around. Sass from Donald is basically a gleaming thumbs up for ‘things are actually okay’, so maybe everyone will get the hint too. “Maybe I should check if you have a fever, you’re acting…. Oh that’s right, entirely delusional is a personality trait of yours.” 

“Hoo hoo! Fighting words, I see how it is, ‘Tello. Let’s make it a full bet then, three on one. Where is Micheal anyway—” 

He pauses— Mikey stares at him from the railing, kicking his feet happily from the ledge. Right, because he’d been there the whole time. Duh. No one else seems to blink either— maybe Mikey had done some practising while he was out of it. Really honing in on that mystic warrior side, kudos to him, really. 

“Hey, you wanna help me prove a point to these bozos?” 

He grins, the same way he always does. “Can I be on your team?”

Leo makes a show of rolling his eyes with a sigh. “Man, harshing my whole solo hero against all odds shtick there Michael, but yeah I guess.” As if he’d ever really been able to say no to those big green eyes. 

Leo shakes his head. Blue. Mikey’s eyes are blue. Of course they are— they’re gleaming and bright in the photograph he carries right over his heart, he’s looked at them nearly every day for his whole life. Silly. 

Maybe training today is not up there with one of his better ideas actually, but he’d rather volunteer to do Dad’s laundry than admit that now. 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Mikey asks, and Leo does not jump— he does not— but does feel his heart rocket directly into his teeth as his brother appears suddenly beside him. 

Leo clicks his tongue, playing his sudden jumpiness off and waving his hand dismissively. “Up for what? A nice easy warm up where we absolutely show these clowns up? Sure, afterwards we can get ice cream from that place you like, easy peasy.” 

“Ice cream?” Don cuts in with a snort. “You want to deal with that inevitable explosion, be my guest. More of a punishment than a reward, though, I’d say.” 

“Yeah, Leo,” Raph tilts his head, losing some of his easy playfulness. “Kind of cruel to throw that in his face.” 

“Huh?” He whirls towards them both. “Cruel? Me? What’s wrong with ice cream?” 

Mikey huffs. “You know I can’t have dairy.” 

What? No, Leo definitely wouldn’t have missed that big of a development, no matter how whacked out he’d been— Mike’s favorite place in the world outside of the pizza parlors was the ice cream shop by April’s that sold absolutely unhinged combinations of flavors. They went there all the time after practice, it was their together thing. Leo once chugged a whole twenty dollars worth of pickle flavored ice cream milkshake just to make Mikey laugh and— hadn’t he? Or….

Leo frowns to himself. “Right.” He shakes his head again, squinting at Mikey. “Doi, I was saying… Mikey’s shop, you know. The candy place you like. Jeeze. Can’t talk today.”

Mikey brightens up instantly, “Ooh, can we get the big jawbreaker this time?” 

“Course,” Leo nods, trying not to frown. “I’ll buy you the biggest one if you want.” 

He has the strangest feeling about this, like deja vu. Two of him walking in the same fun house mirror paths at once. Mikey skips ahead towards the training room and something— there’s something off— 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Raph interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder as he approaches. The Raph Chasm is back, great. “You look a little pale, bro.” 

Don leans in also, tapping even more intensely on his wrist tablet. “Seems fine. Temperature is normal, no signs of reopened injury. Heart rate is a little elevated—” 

“Dude,” Leo gapes at him. “Did you— did you chip me again?”

___

His dreams get weirder as the days go on. He figures it’s something to do with his brain trying to settle in, like it’s run out of plausible events and has to start throwing weirder and weirder potentials in the mix just to be sure.

He’s in the prison dimension now when it starts. He’s there, and he’s holding onto his photo, and the Krang Leader is approaching with shockwave levels of thunderous rage. It always goes the same: 

Leo is cornered, he’s alone. He’s waiting for the next hit, the next punch. He can’t remember if this is real, he can’t remember if he leaves. He knows he’s alone, he thinks it might be forever. Then, the Krang vanishes— he looks around, and he’s on a rock in the dark, an unthinkable distance from home. 

No Krang, no family. Miles and miles of scrapyard wasteland space, and nothing but himself. It’s somehow worse, this way. 

Then, sometimes it shifts. His brothers are all there, god— his brothers are all here. Sometimes it’s Dad, and he’s trying to take all the hits himself. Once, Casey. It’s terrifying to be alone but he always hates those ones, the ones where he somehow drags everyone else down here with him. 

The worst one is when it’s Mikey. He must have taken the hit from the Krang himself, he’s banged up and barely moving— smiling at him behind a swollen eye. 

“It’s okay,” He says in this one, it’s the only one where anyone talks. “It’s going to be okay, Leo.” 

___

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s hard to think of the shape of whatever it is, let alone admit directly; he’s forgetting things, is the sum of it. He forgot where Donny’s new second lab was the other day, unthinkingly walking directly in with a question he’d instantly forgotten and nearly set off the project Don was working on. He forgot that Raph has a new motorcycle, and that he drives it around most nights after dinner and that he doesn’t spend a lot of time at home. He forgot that really, he’s the only one that watches Jupiter Jim, and wrestling, and they haven’t gone topside together in ages.

It also just keeps happening. 

“Are you coming over?” He says, breathlessly into his cell propped up with his shoulder. The stack of pizza boxes he's carrying sway dangerously as he leaps down another sewer grate. 

“For what purpose?” Cassandra’s voice rings back. 

Leo shoves the latch for the lair with his foot. “You know, the big Re-re launch of the Luo Jitsu: Stars in Five Separate Dimensions, the game the movie the game the sequel. Duh.” 

“Do not ‘duh’ at me when you are speaking entire nonsense.” 

Leo laughs, rolling his eyes. Cassandra’s brand of humor has taken on a new thread with her division from the Foot. She’s apparently going to mechanic classes now, and sass lessons if these conversations have anything to say for it. “Nonsense, she says. Fifth biggest Lou Jistsu fan I know, and she’s pretending not to know about the largest night of the past two years. Sure.” 

The pause throws him off. He can hear her brain whirling across the line. “Are you referring to the biggest gaming night of the year when the new hockey immersive VR game becomes legal to play in four states? That’s next month.” 

“What— No,” he pulls his phone away from his face in disgust. Yes, it’s Cassandra’s icon, and her voice but honestly, this could be a bodysnatchers moment. He’s had weirder weekends.

“Then no, I do not know what you speak of. Should you like me to come over and resoundingly beat you into a pulp over video games, I accept.” 

“I—” Leo’s brain… skips. Resetting. Another thought lines up neatly in the space between. “Right. Yeah, I — man I don’t know what I’m talking about. Just come over and play Mario Kart or something fun. I have pizza.” 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but you usually have pizza,” She says, because snark lessons are working over time apparently, and hangs up. 

He’s positive for a long moment that he’s dreaming— that’s what gets him. The line between the skipping do-over dreams and these blips of forgetting are getting more and more unclear. He’s in space and he’s alone, and then he’s awake and Donnie’s new invention is in the living room, and he remembers that they don’t use it for a whole lot these days anyways. He’s with the Krang and he hurts and then he’s awake and his brothers aren’t around and it hurts anyways. He doesn't remember home being so cold, but it is and it's real and maybe Leo's just losing his mind.

It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information. He wants to tell Donnie, he should tell Don, it just— it seems like a much larger deal than he knows his genius twin could possibly actually deal with. He might be an honorary MENSA member, but he’s not a brain surgeon at the end of the day; it’s easier to go along with things when he can, until he can’t. 

It’s not even clear why he doesn’t remember, he didn’t get that bad of a concussion during the Krang events— most of the punching had been to his sides and chest actually. He’d been totally fine the first few weeks. It’s like a slow settling poison, whatever this is. He’s partially convinced himself it’s just a lack of sleep, or that he’s missing some sort of key vitamin; he really needs to start eating genuine meals instead of boxed things, honestly. He can’t tell Donnie, because if it is his brain he knows Donnie can’t fix it. He won’t do that to him until he has to. It’s his problem, anyways— it never seems to be about anything major at least. He’d caught himself nearly calling April over to the lair, as if she’d ever been over to their new place after the old one was destroyed. He remembers there wasn’t an old lair, April just hasn’t ever come over. He sets up too many chairs for game nights and no one shows up, because some part of him forgot that they hadn’t hosted a family night since he was six. 

Through it all, there’s a constant ever-lying thrum he can’t name.

“Hey, uh, Dad?” Leo calls, stepping into the living room. He’s shuffled the pizzas off into the kitchen, and remembered that it’ll really just be him and Cassandra probably. Again, evidently. Don is doing something in the lab, his old one downstairs, and made it clear after Leo’s last interruption he had to be invited first— a rule they’d never had before. Leo had always been able to tromp through his twins space as easy as breathing. Raph is out, as he is most nights. The lair is quieter, the thrumming so loud he can hardly think. 

“Hm, Blue? What is it— oh, did you want the TV for something?” 

Leo shakes his head, hovering awkwardly beside the couch and tapping his foot with anxious energy he doesn’t even understand why he feels. This is a bad idea, he thinks. The thrumming is prickling at him like knives pressed outwards, though, and if he doesn’t tell someone he thinks he might snap entirely down the center of himself anyways. It’s still a bad idea, it’s the only idea he has. 

“Can I talk to you, about ah— something?” 

He winces at his own words, and watches Splinter shift, expression dropping serious and worried all at once. He turns the TV off and pats the space beside him on the couch. “What is it, my son.” 

Shell, he hates this. Either Dad will think he’s insane or immediately tell Don anyways and none of it will matter. He bites his lip. “I just— I’m worried about Raph,” he ends up saying. 

Dad blinks, his face twitches into something more thoughtful. “I do not know what he does being out so late every night, but I’m sure he is safe.” 

Leo nods, pulling at loose thread on the blanket throw. “Course, yeah. I mean, that guy is the biggest worrywart I know, it’s just— do you, uh. Do you remember if he always… went out so late?” Leo doesn’t. Leo has been told it’s what Raph does and stared at as though he was the one out of touch until he found himself nervously playing along, but he doesn’t remember knowing any version of Raph that would leave so often. Any Raph that acted like couldn’t stand one more second of being around his family. 

Understanding flickers across Splinter’s face, his ears drop. For a moment, Leo’s overeager heart soars. 

“Ah, I see,” Splinter says, patting his hand. “You miss your big brother, is that it?” 

“I— well, yeah, sure, but—” Splinter clicks his tongue at him affectionately. 

“It is okay to miss Red, I miss him too. And Purple, when he’s locked away in his room. And you, when you’re too focused on your training.” 

He knows, he knows, it’s just that it doesn’t change even when they’re here in front of him. It’s like they don’t fit now, and he doesn’t understand why. 

“Blue, families can change and grow with time, sometimes the changing leads them to… wild new things like motorcycles and teenage rebellion,” Splinter continues, and Leo hears it, the softness he uses when he’s imparting parenting wisdom, and the brakes can’t be stopped so— “Red still loves you, he’s still your family.” He catches something in Leo’s face despite his own attempts to school it, and his dark eyes flicker for a moment. “Is this…about the Krang?” 

Crud. Leo twists his face up to stop from doing something stupid like sniffling. “No. That was so long ago now, pshaw. Anyways, I know, obviously, I’m Raph’s favorite. Nice to hear anyways, though.” 

Splinter chuckles, patting his hand again. “You know that he loves all of you the same. And so do I, Blue.” 

“I don’t— yeah, I know—” There’s no point, he can’t do it. Leo sighs. “I just— can you talk to him? About not staying out so much? We used to, yanno, have movie nights and stuff is all.” 

Splinter hums, tapping his chin. “Schedule your movie nights at April’s so I get the big TV and you have a deal.” 

Leo forces a laugh. Do they even hang out with April like that anymore? Imagining a world where they don’t is awful, inherently cold and empty in a way he immediately doesn’t care to allow. “Sure.” 

There’s a pause, the thrumming is still there— the moment’s passed though, he’d only make Splinter worry more. 

“You know, this place used to be filled with a lot more… laughter,” Splinter says, after a moment. “I will talk to your brother.” 

“Okay,” Leo says in a breath. There’s something there, almost. If Raph can spend more time at home, maybe they can drag Don out, too. Maybe it’ll feel right, and he can let it go and stop checking the front door, and maybe his brain will start working so he doesn’t have to put all that weight on his twin brother anyways.

The almost’s never seem to make it anymore, though.

___

It starts to really hit him a few days later. 

“--earned it from you, big bro.” 

‘You can’t do this’ He threw himself forward but there was that flicker again, the sideways pull and he was alone on the rock where the Krang threw him except it was just him and— 

‘I have to, I’m sorry. You keep leaving,,’ and it sounded like a plea, like a cry for help disguised as a big brave step forward, and everything in him coalesced forwards like he’d only ever known how to do just that. Like he’d only always known how to bend and soften at that voice, like it broke every part of himself just to hear it wavering like this. 

He wakes up from a dream and he can’t remember it; there are tears pouring from his eyes and this big hiccuping sob lodged somewhere behind it, and he can feel it— the heart shaped puzzle piece that’s been scoured right out of his chest, an essential part, something he can’t be without, but he can’t even remember what it looked like. 

You don’t, he thinks. You don’t have to. Just let it be me, I chose it already anyways. You can’t take that away.

‘I can!’ it echoes off the nothing around them, off the something because they’re in the air again, and everyone else was pushed off but the two of them, and he’s holding the totem to lock the door and he’s listening to the broken comms on the other side. ‘Look at me, it’s okay. I’m the only one who can. And— and it’s okay. Because you’ll all just forget, so it’ll be okay. You won’t miss me��’

Of course I will. He’s angry, he’s furious and desperate, he’s not sure anything he says is reaching anything at all but he’s more certain of anything that it has to. I’ll miss you more than anything. 

‘I’ve already changed it, you can’t stop it. I just— I wanted to say—’ 

There should be alarms, he thinks distantly, panic and dread and grief white hot behind his teeth. Blaring red alert rolling alarms, because the world had ended and none of them were moving fast enough, and he was just going to forget again when he— 

“Oh god,” Leo gasps, throwing himself off his bed— catching his feet messily in the absolute tangle of sheets and crashing to the ground instead. His hands are trembling, there’s a pained animalistic noise tearing itself somewhere in his ribs because the thrumming has become a black hole in his gut. He’s nauseous in the same way he feels entirely gutted, devastated all the way through to his center and he needs to get to the bathroom, to Donnie, to anyone— 

He feels like the floor has just vacuumed itself through an airlock and there isn’t enough air anywhere at all in the world, and he can’t remember why. 

“--eo, what are you…? I swear to— Leo!” 

He has his hands pressed tight against his neck, he can feel his own heartbeat absolutely rabbitting underneath but it’s real. He can feel it and it’s real. He’s here, at least— if that matters. He can’t remember if it matters. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere even with Donnie in the room, like it usually does. Because there’s nowhere else for it to go, he thinks nonsensically. It’s gone, the place it goes is gone. 

“Dee,” he gasps out, pleading for…for nothing, really. For anything. 

“I got you, Nardo,” Donnie’s voice is closer, his hands are hovering nervously around the heaving galloping black hole that is all of Leo before settling on his shoulders. “Up we go, okay? Just, breathe. In and out, follow me.”  He pulls up a diagram, an unfolding square that refolds, breathing exaggeratedly along with it. Leo tries to wrangle himself into himself, feel around the pit of nothing in his chest, breathe long enough to chase away the gray in his vision at least. It feels pointless, breathing through a straw at the end of the world— he can’t possibly keep his heart beating one more second, but it does, and then it does again. 

“That’s it,” Donnie says, his hand rubbing circles against Leo’s neck. “Better, okay. Keep doing that.” He sounds anxious, tense in the ice cold–locked up way he gets. Leo’s chest aches. “You’re not running a fever, no proximity alarms were tripped so— bad dream?”

The cataclysm in his heart is stilling, like it’s being put to sleep more and more with every word. Every realignment of real and not real— part of him is terrified by this, like it wants to scramble it back. Leo shakes his head, still wheezing. Nods after a moment. Pauses, and embarrassingly bursts into tears again in spite of himself. 

“Woah! Woah, okay, okay. Got it, no questions. You’re fine, you don’t have to tell me.” 

He holds his hand out— it’s something they used to do, when they were little. Don had learned something about otters holding hands when they slept so they wouldn’t drift off, and Leo had gotten it in his head that since they were in a sewer, it was possible they’d float away at night too. He’d held Don’s hand every night until they all split off into their own separate rooms when they got older, palm to palm, holding onto Don’s wrist. Even after they had their own beds, Don would sneak in if he felt like Leo wasn’t sleeping good; they haven’t needed to in years. 

Leo latches himself onto his brother's hand like a lifeline. This is real too, he tells himself. It makes the horrified part of him wail with something like grief anyways.

“Okay, alright Leon. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Breathe.” 

Leo tries to hold each breath like water in his hands, imagine himself filling up that space inside him. The idea is so instantly horrendous, a murky swirling bog where something was— he doesn’t know why— it chokes him into another sobbing fit for a moment. “Sorry, jeez— jeeze. I’m sorry, ugh.” 

He can practically hear Don’s eye roll. “Can we get up off the floor now?” 

Leo nods, shakily. He grips Don’s wrist even harder, but lets himself be dragged back into bed. 

“Want some water?” Don asks; Leo stares down at their joined hands and feels a spike of panic in him. It must trip something on Don’s weird chip, he glances down at the screen. “Ohhkay. Nope, nixing that plan, sure. We can just dehydrate.” 

“Sorry,” Leo wheezes again. He knows Don is trying so hard right now, too, or he would have made some annoyed comment about hating unnecessary apologies. He stays silent, squeezing back just as hard. 

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” He asks, after a moment. 

Leo winces. 

“Or, I could invent some never before seen and heard of technology and just dive right into that awful little brain of yours and figure it out anyways, if you want.” 

Leo snorts. “You have that already. ‘S called being stuck with me.” 

“Hm. True. Doesn’t give me all the answers, though.” 

He wishes it would. Don’s brain could probably work out exactly what to do  in five seconds if he had the opportunity to mess around in Leo’s fuzzed out brain. Maybe that was the problem. Leo lets out a long breath, ducking his head to nudge against Don’s shoulder. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” he admits, to the space between them where their hands sit. 

“I will refrain from my default response of ‘beyond the usual’ or any other witty remark this one time, on the grounds that you’re kind of a mess right now. Know that I did think it for the record, though.” 

“Noted,” Leo smiles, waterlogged and wavering. 

Donnie shifts, pulling his free arm up around Leo’s shoulders. They fall silent for a second, just the wet and choked off sounds of Leo wrangling his own heart rate surrounding them. Don pulls him closer, a half hug. “You know. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, the ghost of that all consuming grief still wrapping itself around his throat. Donnie’s fixed everything since he was able to hold a screwdriver, his faith in his brother is as unshakeable as his understanding of cool action films, as his belief in his family. He knows his brother would try to fix it, and would get closer than anyone else possibly could. Maybe he’s not sure there is anything to fix.

“What if you can’t?” It comes out small. 

Donnie’s arm squeezes tighter, steel in his frame. “I will.” 

It’s nice, he thinks. To pretend like Don’s got all the answers. “I’m sorry I went through the wormhole,” He says instead. Sorry I almost left you, he says with the way he leans farther into Don’s side. 

Don lets out a sharp breath. “No, you’re not.”  He isn't wrong, Dee knows him best.

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry, anyways.”

He can feel Don’s heart beating against his fingertips, can feel the sharp and bending curve of him at his side. Palm to palm so they don’t float apart— maybe Don’s grip is also tighter than usual. He can manage to feel bad about that, maybe, in spite of himself. 

“I’m used to it,” Don says, after another long moment. Subdued. As long as you come back. As long as you let me bring you back, he says with the squeeze of his hand, the way he won’t look at Leo at all. 

___

“Purple told me about your dream last night,” Dad says, looking worn and serious in a way that makes him look far older than Leo is comfortable with noticing. “Do you want to explain, Leonardo?”

They’re sitting around the kitchen table, and his head is in his hands staring down at the whorls in the wood. There’s a carving, he knows, just to his elbow that he and Raph had put there when they were kids, it’s just that for a moment he could have sworn that it wasn’t from Raph at all. He’d been lost staring at the cupboard for a moment with a dark, inkblot feeling around his throat until Dad had startled him out of it, looking at their old favorite mugs. He doesn’t remember his being any of these. He’s certain, for a moment, that his had been a hand painted one, lopsided by the handle. He can’t find it anywhere, though. 

He’d asked Dad when they’d thrown it out, and gotten a blank stare in return. 

‘The… the splotchy one,’ he’d said, panic lacing in behind his eyeballs with its intensity. ‘You know. I always drink tea from it with you.’ 

Splinter shakes his head slowly. ‘I am… sorry my son.’ 

A hysterical laugh frayed at his throat, he’d lost the fight in shoving it back down. ‘There’s a smiley face on the side by my thumb, you know. Don said it was ugly and we got into a big fight when we were like ten. I drink out of that mug every day, because it—’ He couldn’t remember where that sentence was going suddenly, like the words scooped themselves directly from his lungs. Evaporated. ‘I… I know it is. Where did you put it? Did— if Raph broke it, that’s okay, I can fix it.’ 

‘You’ve only ever used this mug, Blue,’ Dad had said, holding an Eeyore mug. Leo feels his mind snap in three places, reconnect. It’s slower this time, more painful. Maybe that’s him, breaking. 

‘Right,’ Leo laughed, squeaky and high. ‘Sorry.’ 

“They’re just dreams.” He says, like it burns on the way out. “I’m just not sleeping well.” 

“He’s been waking up every few hours,” Don throws in, because of course he’s been tracking that, too.

“Hey—” he tries, and catches Raph’s serious, unhappy face as he lifts his head. The way he looks frailer around the edges, exhausted the same way Leo is. Oh.

Raph sighs. “He’s jumpy. Confused. I thought…” He makes eye contact with Leo and looks away. “I thought maybe the Krang incident rattled him, was all. But it’s been months,” 

“My son,” Dad adds, before Leo can process any of that. “Why did you not tell me?” 

Shell, he thinks. Shit, for emphasis. “It’s just bad dreams,” he shrugs. “What’s there to tell?” 

Don snorts, crossing his arms. “Just bad dreams he says, as though regular disruption to your REM cycle bears no long term effects like, say, spacing out. Forgetting where my lab is. Dialing the wrong number when trying to reach me, your twin brother who literally programmed your phone.” Oh, right, yeah. He had done that. 

Burying his face in his arms seems like the best approach to all of this. The gnawing thrum is back, wilder like a firestorm in the back of his mind— it seems to get louder when he’s aware of it, he’s not sure what that means. 

“Leo,” Raph’s voice is tired, too. Why is everyone so tired? “You can talk to us, you know that right? We just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Stop being so,” Leo struggles to find a word in between burying his forehead father into his arms. “Reasonable. Ugh.” 

Splinter pats at his arm, comfortingly. He debates the merits of coming clean, then of feigning a sudden illness, or playing up some hidden head injury that miraculously resolves itself before Don can pull out any of his scarier tech. A wave of exhaustion pulls at him. “I’ll fix it,” Donnie had said. Maybe it’s embarrassing to want to believe anyone can fix this at all, but it’s his family, and this is the most he’s seen them in months and despite what everyone tells him, he doesn’t remember a time things were like this at all. He doesn’t remember a version of himself that would have been content to let it happen. 

There’s something there. An invisible wall he’s walking into while everyone else skirts around it. If only he didn’t keep forgetting what he was dreaming about— he lets out a long, long breath, dropping his head even lower until his brow presses into the wood directly. 

“I’m. Forgetting things.” He mumbles to it, shoulders high around his head. The silence that follows is long enough he almost thinks they didn’t hear him at all. 

Don clears his throat first. “Forgetting… what.” He sounds ominous, tight laced. Exactly what Leo was afraid of. He scrunches up his beak in response. 

“Everything. You, Raph— I don’t remember why April hasn’t visited. Or, or where your lab is. Cassandra doesn’t care about Lou Jitsu games, no one watches Jupiter Jim. It’s all— I don’t know.” 

Dad takes in a breath, Leo can hear him consciously making sure to keep it measured and slow.  “Is this because of the Krang?” 

Leo shakes his head, digging further into the grooves of the tabletop. “No, I — I don’t know. Maybe? Everything was fine, and then. It wasn’t. It’s like I’m—” Missing something. It’s like there’s a big glaring neon sign directly in front of him that he can’t see, some obvious clue like a protagonist in a horror film that the audience is throwing popcorn at. 

“Do you…. Do you ever imagine there’s like. A memory that you had, but something happened, and then you lost it. And you don’t remember enough about it to know what it was, but it’s like part of you knows that it's gone anyways?” He feels insane, he can’t look up at his brothers, he can only close his eyes and wish himself somewhere else where the black hole in him is quiet. “Sorry, that’s— I mean, maybe I am just tired. Just feels… different, lately. I keep looking at the front door like someone’s gunna walk in any second, isn’t that weird?” 

No one speaks, Leo sinks lower. 

What if whatever is wrong with him is contagious? What if saying it out loud is the thing that breaks this wide open on all of them. What if nothing happens at all, and it’s just Leo and his brain and some unknowable horrid thing wrong with him that makes him feel like half of himself is missing somewhere else. 

What if he’s right?

“You remember the other day, Raph? You said something about me reading comics, staying home from April’s and reading comics.”

“...Yeah.”

Leo digs his fingers into the back of his head. “I walked into Donnie’s lab because I couldn’t remember where the comics were, and it’s like I just, went through the door. Then— I mean, none of us own comics. Why did you say that?”

Raph starts, stops. “I… don’t remember.”

Don breathes, long and shaky. “I put a chip on you and Raph and Dad because I thought—” His voice is flat, quiet, and breaks neatly down the middle. Leo freezes, tenses on the spot. “I had this feeling. Like there was a problem I’d missed, like I hadn’t perfected something important. I drew all these schematics and they didn’t make sense— and I knew, they were for something specific, but I had no idea why or what. I have inventions I don’t remember making, too— I thought someone else left their things in my room but they all have my logo on them.”

“I asked April for tea,” Dad adds in, slow and confused. “Orange pekoe. I have never drank orange pekoe.” 

Don continues. “You told me you hate pro skateboarding the other day and I nearly vaporized you on the spot because I thought you were a clone. And then it was like, my brain just. Caught up. Remembered all these things that didn’t fit anymore.” 

Leo stares at the table, lifts his head up so sharply his vision swims, and stares at his brother. “Yeah. Yeah. Like, like you’re reading a new script.” 

Holy shit, he thinks. They all nod, slowly. 

“I thought it was me,” Leo says. 

Don shakes his head. “I’ve been doing tests. Measurements and scans— I can’t get a read on it so I haven’t brought it up yet.” He shrugs. “It’s… it’s weird, Leon. I don’t make measurement errors.” 

“But you have been,” Leo says, slowly. 

Don breathes out, heavily. 

“Your math,” Raph says, simply. Leo’s gaze shoots towards him; his big brother looks haggard, dark circles around his eyes that Leo hadn’t noticed before. “Donnie, your math. Why’s it always wrong?” He’s gripping the table top awfully tightly, Leo notices. White knuckled bone pressing upwards into the harsh kitchen lighting, like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His big brother has always been unmovable, no matter what was thrown at them. He was okay, and would figure it out, and would help them brute force things back where they should be if they had to. He looks... small, suddenly. Just a kid.

“Woah, Raph, maybe you should take it easy for a second—” Leo starts. 

“Four,” Don cuts him off. He looks vaguely haunted as well now, eyes dark. “I keep dividing by four.” 

___

“I kept driving around at night to find someone, I was so sure they were in danger. Raph thought he was losing it,” Raph says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. 

“Me too,” Leo admits. “Thought Donnie was going to have to lobotomize me.” 

“Easy to do when you already are missing a brain,” Donnie mutters. They’ve moved down to the living room — invited Casey and Cassandra and April over, too. Draxum, despite Leo’s better judgment, is lurking somewhere in the kitchen area as well. Leo keeps holding Don’s hand, seemingly unable to stop now that the words are out there, and Don hasn’t asked him to let go yet either. 

Raph glances between them both, tense. “Stupid of me to not tell either of you. Should have known,” he offers with a weak smile. “We’re always in this together.” 

Leo shrugs, “Sounds like we all did the same thing. In my defense, I thought I was concussed.” 

“So,” April joins in, hesitantly. “You’ve all been… remembering things wrong, too? Because— I mean, you said that you were going to get Casey to guide me down here like I didn’t know the way, and then. I mean it was weird…” 

“Oh thank god,” Leo sags in relief. “You not having been here before was bothering me so much.” 

“And your dreams, Blue,” Dad cuts in, tucked up in his arm chair with a cup of steaming tea he hasn’t touched. He looks guilt ridden too, in a way Leo hates. “They’re not just about what happened?” 

“No, well. They are but. They… change? It’s like a hundred different versions of the same thing. Sometimes April’s there, or Casey, or no one is.” He shudders, a flash of some dream he had crossing his mind vaguely. “I can’t remember most of them anymore now, but it. I don’t know. I feel like. Something important happened, is that insane?” 

Casey looks at him searchingly, he always seems so heartbroken by all of their struggles in a way that makes Leo want to wrap him in bubble wrap until he’s 30. “Not more insane than anything else,” Casey says somberly. 

“Do we have, like, memory problems? In the future?”

Casey shakes his head. “Not that I know of. You all had stories about how things were that were pretty detailed. We had to memorize new map locations that came through pretty quickly, too.”

Everyone falls silent for a moment. April clears her throat. 

“And… and you think this is all happening, because…. Someone went missing.” 

Leo turns to look at Don— his brows are pulled so far down they’re basically a flat line, pinched in the middle as he works frantically on his laptop. It all looks like graphs and numbers to Leo. 

“I keep dividing by the wrong number.” He states, quietly. “There’s three of us, and yet I’m accounting for a fourth. It only happens when I’m not thinking about it, like—”

“Muscle memory,” Raph finishes. 

Leo looks out at everyone— there’s a reserved energy, like a thick fog of some kind of grief pulled down across them all. Maybe he’d expected someone to react like it was silly, make some kind of joke of things, maybe it would have helped make it feel less awful for it to be a big mass hallucination on their part. Leaky sewer pipe, or something. The severity is both aggravating and reassuring all in one. 

“I kept setting the table for five of us for dinner,” Leo says with a helpless shrug. 

Raph nods. “Our training sessions— we keep leaving our backs open, and I couldn’t figure out why. Like someone’s supposed to be there.” 

To imagine it is kind of devastating in pieces and wholes, Leo thinks. Someone so intrinsically a part of them, someone they worked around unthinkingly, just vanishing like that. Without even the courtesy of letting them mourn. Everyone stays silent for another long moment, that veil of grief is heavier— they don’t even know this person, someone that left a crater so large whatever bullshit vaporized their memory from all of their minds couldn’t even be lifted fully. Like the planet lost its axis without them, like they were constantly bumping into an outline of a person without even realizing. 

“How does that happen?” Leo’s own voice sneaks up on him, he hadn’t meant to speak. Or maybe he had. He’s angry, suddenly, like shakingly, virulently angry— big red neon light style. “No, seriously. How— they just get erased from our lives like that? Without anyone even seeing it?” How did we not notice, he thinks, desperately. “It was one of us, right?” Leo turns to Don, to Raph, to Dad. “Like, like a sibling? And we just… what, forgot them? How does that happen?” 

“Leo…” Raph tries, holding a hand out. There’s an anvil in Leo’s heart, it’s sinking so far down with every step further into this reality he’s forced to reconcile with. 

“No! I— Come on, we don’t even remember them. There’s nothing at all left behind, and yet, because whoever this was mattered so much we still felt it— and that just happens? How does that happen?” 

It shouldn’t, he thinks of forgetting any one of his family and feels like his atoms are misaligned. The idea that any one of them could just be stitched over, skipped like a video feed; his stomach churns dangerously.

A chair drags noisy across the tile, and everyone's attention snaps up. “There are legends,” Draxum starts. “Mystic connections to time and space itself.” He meets Leo’s eye levelly— there’s a catch in them, too, Leo realizes. He doesn’t know why Draxum is included in these events, he made them, sure but he’d also thrown Leo off a rooftop. He’d been antagonizing them for months, and he’d gotten defeated by the Shredder, and they’d all moved on. There’s a gap in his mind, between that Draxum and this one; no explanation for his place here today except for that he is. Because whoever this was that they lost, he mattered to Draxum too, didn’t he?

“If said person possessed enough power, they could feasibly stretch across both the folding dimensions, hypothetically.” 

Don gasps, an aborted noise. “Like… a hole in time.” 

Casey freezes, sitting up taller. 

Leo thinks about his dreams, about being trapped in the nothing and not believing he ever left. Not remembering what got him out at all. A voice telling him that everything would be okay.

“It would take a lot of power,” Draxum continues. “Possibly too much. To change one thread in the thousands like that, I imagine such a feat would be felt across the whole tapestry.” 

“Maybe it already has,” Leo says, detached. Thousands of possible realities, changing and pulling in a million different ways— Leo and the Krang standing on an asteroid, a hundred different outcomes flashing back and forth on a loop, over and over. Looking at his own front door and waiting for someone to come home, even with everyone he loves sitting directly in front of him.

The last dreams, the ones he doesn’t remember— waking up feeling like someone died in front of him. 

He stands up, sudden and sharp— wrenching his hand from Don’s without thinking. “How do we stop it. How do— how do we change it back.” 

Draxum meets his intensity with a cool stare, holding a teacup in his hands carefully. “There may not be. I’ve never heard of such a way.” 

Bullshit, Leo thinks— “If they brought Casey here, they did it again. To get me back. That’s two times, that shouldn’t be possible either, from what you’re saying. So— so just do it again.” He clenches his fist so hard it hurts. “No one remembers how I got out. I should have died in there, with the Krang, right? We closed the portal, so—  But I’m back, because whoever this is brought me back. That shouldn’t have been possible. So we punch a hole through time again.” No one moves, Cassandra keeps his stare levelly, gravely.  “If it takes more power, we have the strongest team the world’s ever seen right here, don’t we?”

Draxum arches a brow. “A lot of effort for someone you cannot recall, is it not? It might put you all at risk as well.” 

It doesn’t matter, Leo wants to say. They did it for me first. He doesn’t care if it’s painful or dangerous or anything else. All he knows is that there’s a gaping maw inside him that he can see now reflected in all of his family where this person is supposed to be. Someone who changed their three to four, someone that made them have half-memories about movie nights and laughter in the lair and someone he misses so badly without knowing that his entire soul feels like it’s hollowed out without them. 

“Maybe this person wanted to go,” Draxum, crosses his arms. “You’d give up so much for someone you don’t remember?”

‘I just— I wanted to say—’

“He’s my son,” Splinter speaks up fiercely, protectively. Everyone falls silent. Splinter falls backwards a step, having leapt to his full height out of seemingly instinctive rage. He looks surprised with himself, then— quietly grief stricken, the same time as Leo’s concaving chest collapses like a burnt out star. 

“Muscle memory,” Raph whispers, agonizingly. 

It echoes around the still room. The hallways seem more expansive in the face of it— a ghost exiting the stage with a rush of air, or one finally being noticed. 

He’s lived in these halls for his whole life, packed in with his three most favorite people in the world to get by the way only their family could. There’s a scuff on the stone just at knee height by the entrance from when he tried to land a backflip on skateboard and broke his arm, theres lines reaching up to just barely five feet around the corner from it. Three sets: red, purple, and blue. 

Maybe now, when he looks around, he’s starting to notice all the empty places. Leo feels like his heart is squeezing through his ribcage with how hard it aches.

Leo squares his shoulders, turns towards his family— there are tears in Casey’s eyes, Donnie has stopped typing frantically and seems to be staring at nothing on the floor. The realization is rocking through all of them in differing stages of devastation. 

“My brother,” He wavers, choking back a well of emotion. “My brother is out there. We’re getting him home.” 

___

“Your dreams are crucial for this to work,” Draxum says. “We’re going to use them as a door.” 

Leo takes the tea Dad makes for him and wills his hands not to shake. 

“Everyone else will focus on Leonardo, follow that thought to where he leads you.”

His last dream is only remnants in his mind, but he’s not sure he could go through it again anyways. Good thing they’re changing it this time then, he supposes. Raph sits cross legged in front of him, closing his eyes with a deep breath. Leo’s hit with the horrible thought of losing any of them the same way, waking up and forgetting they’d ever been here to begin with. His palms itch. 

“Hope we have enough juice in us to pull him back,” Leo jokes, weakly. 

Casey sits beside him, spine straight. He leans a little towards Leo, bumping their shoulders. “I… I don’t remember him, but he must have been there. There’s…. There’s holes if I think too hard. If he was anything like the rest of you, he’ll be fighting just as hard to get back.”

The idea of some vague outline of his brother, an amalgamation of the two beside him, running himself to pieces lost in the dark is hard to swallow also. Raph clears his throat. “Maybe he just needs a bit of a boost.” 

April nods, plopping beside Raph fixedly. “And that’s what we’re going to do.” 

Leo looks at Dad, who’s been quiet ever since the revelation hit them all. Dad shifts, placing a paw on Leo’s shoulder— he looks tired, pinched, like someone closed their eyes and drew him with wobbling outlines. Leo knows how he feels, it aches all the same. He puts his hand on top of Dad’s. 

“Yeah, we got this.” 

Leo drinks the tea and breathes out. It hits him fast — at first, he’s floating in the dark; the difference hits him funny, he doesn’t exactly remember any of the dreams but he knows they start before the fight ends. He knows they never begin with him being by himself. 

It reminds him of a time when they were younger, when Dad had to go scavenge for food and scraps alone and leave them behind with stern orders to stay put. They never really did, of course. 

There was a day where it had been storming up top, he remembers the way the pipes groaned and rushed with the rain like growling monsters in the stone walls, warped by all the empty tunnels and spaces in the shadows. Dad had left to grab food for the next few days, in case any of the pipes did burst as the storm went on or a tunnel threatened to collapse. He remembers that Dad hadn’t wanted to leave them at all, he’d been nervous and anxious and promised to be back in an hour at most. They’d all felt it, staying bundled up for the most part instead of ambling off their creaking furniture or stealing the two markers that were half dried up with use. 

Don had been hungry, he’d had a mild fever, Leo thinks— Don had caught every bug that meandered through the grates in those days, before he figured out which vitamins they were missing and how much sunlight they needed. He remembers the way Don shivered, tucked in at his side. Leo had decided he would be the one to make Donnie soup, despite Raph’s protests. He’d squirmed his way out of the blankets, and taken a few steps towards their makeshift kitchen before the thunder rocked miles above and rattled through every part of New York.

He remembers the way that the generator they siphoned had cut out when he made it through the doorway. 

It’s silly now, maybe— his brothers had been a few feet away, he was still in his house. He could hear Raph calling for him, the sound of his big brother fighting the blankets and Dee’s dazed mumbles and complaints with it. He knew even then that he wasn’t really in danger. It was just that Donnie had just showed him the otter videos, and the pipes were roaring at him, and he’d never actually been anywhere he felt scared at all before. 

There’d been approximately fifteen seconds before Raph crashed into him, another thirty minutes before Dad burst back into the lair and brought the flashlights out from the side drawer, and lit candles for them. Fifteen seconds for Leo to imagine that he was completely alone. 

A much older Leo, then, riding the adrenaline off saving the day— holding a photograph close to his chest, comms fizzling in his ear— 

He’s on the asteroid, ah. This is familiar. 

He’s always here in his mind— the Krang stalking towards him, the light of the ship's explosion dancing like fireworks in the distance. He holds the photograph in his hand, because he’s alone, he’s so alone, but it was worth it. The Krang approaches, tail flicking as it practically curves over him in rage. He’s okay with all of this, really, if it means— 

“Get away from him!” Raph yells, and suddenly there’s a streak of red crashing into the Krang, knocking it through the rock. A flash of purple, and Don’s battle shell appears beside him.

“Could you imagine something more relaxing next time? Like I dunno, a boiling pit of lava? This isn’t nearly terrifying enough.” Don’s hand hovers over his shoulder, like he’s not sure where to put it for a second. Leo grabs at his wrist, overcome by relief for a moment before the words hit. Right, imagine. Because he got out, he didn’t bring his brothers here, they brought themselves. 

“I’m dreaming,” He reminds himself. 

“You are, which is good. My tech can’t really do anything special when we’re in a mystical mental plane, so. Do your, yanno, ‘thing’.” 

“We got the big guy for you!” April crows, he can see her backflipping off the Krang’s head, Casey swinging in to kick at its knees. 

Right. He was here, and something got him out— when he dreams this, there’s always things changing, always things that happen differently. He’s usually here alone, facing down the inevitable reality that there’s no more doors; it was his plan, to do anything to get rid of the threat, no matter what that meant but living it was different. It didn’t happen like this, he knows, but he made it out anyways.

He can feel his family around him, just like the kitchen and the dark. There’s fifteen seconds before Raph crashes into him. Fifteen seconds of him in the dark and— there was someone else there, wasn’t there? 

Leo hadn’t decided to make Donnie soup alone. He’d gone with someone, because… because his brother knew how to heat the soup up the way Dad did, and he was older so he could open the cans. He’d been holding someone’s hand as the room went dark. 

He remembers distantly in all of his dreams here, there’s always someone he’s arguing with. Someone he’s losing. Whoever his brother is, he’s been here with him all along.

“You know, you’re really not supposed to be able to be here,” A voice speaks up. It’s choked in that desperately sad and relieved way all in one that he knows, he knows because it’s— 

Leo’s eyes snap open. His brother’s are fighting the Krang with April and Casey and Dad and Cassandra, and he’s sitting at the rock with the photograph, except he’s above it. He’s looking at the dark, and there’s someone holding his hand. 

He blinks. Blue eyes meet his, teary and bright as always. “Mikey—” he breathes, instinctive, like the name is pulled from the very core of himself. 

His brother smiles a heartbreakingly grateful smile. “You’re really not supposed to be able to do that, either.” 

Leo whirls towards him, grabbing immediately for his brother as some unnamable panic crests over him. His hands sink right through thin air, but he can see him— god, he can see Mikey. 

There’s a light hovering orange around his brother’s form emitting a low glow, like he’s a stick on star. They put those in their bedroom, he remembers suddenly. They had them on the ceiling because Mikey had been afraid of the dark, Leo had carefully climbed all the way up on top of the rickety bunk bed and glued them all on without asking Dad, just to make sure Mikey wasn’t scared. He could still see the outlines of them years later. 

“How— Mikey, what happened, I— oh my god, I forgot you—” How did he let that happen, how could he? His only baby brother, their Angelo. “I’m so sorry.” 

Mikey shakes his head, he’s still smiling even though there’s a pinch to his face that Leo immediately can’t stand. “You didn’t, I made you forget. It’s okay Leo.” 

“It’s not! I— it was so messed up without you, I— Raph keeps ditching us and Dad’s tired and, and nobody reads comics anymore!”

Mikey laughs, wet and sad, and it’s still the best thing Leo’s ever heard. He can’t believe he went months without remembering it. When they get back, he’s going to put on all of Mikey’s favorite stupid videos and listen to him laugh for hours just to make sure he remembers it exactly right every day for the rest of their lives. 

Leo barrels forward, still trying to grab any part of his brother; he’s like sand, he’s like water, the pieces of him are streaming through Leo’s finger tips. “It’ll be okay now though, we— Raph will stay in if you’re here, and Don’s stuff’s in your room, but we can move it. He’ll make you a bigger room if you want, you know he will—” 

“Leo,” Mikey cuts in, carefully. Hedging. Leo’s heart crashes through into nothing, he swallows roughly. 

“No,” He tries for a laugh, he remembers this now. He knows what Mikey is going to say. “You’re wrong, stop it. You said— you told me that it was the only way, that we’d all forget.” 

Mikey’s shoulders lift and drop, slow and tired. “You did. It’s okay.” 

“It’s as far away from okay as it can possibly be! You said we wouldn’t miss you, but I did, Mike. I did anyways, we all did. We knew— there was this giant hole right in the middle of us. It shouldn’t be possible, you said it yourself— that means something, I know it does. So— stop trying to tell me to leave or, or whatever else you’re thinking. I’m not going anywhere without you, right now.” 

“I missed you,” Mikey’s crying now which activates every ounce of dread left in him. He looks exhausted, pale and drawn out even with the strange glow.  “Leo, I’ve been trying, you have to believe me.”

Leo shakes his head, furious with heartbreak. “Try harder, then!” His fists clench. He’s not having this same conversation again, he’s not waking up one more time feeling like the world just ended in front of him. He’s not doing this without Mikey, it’s not happening. “I’ll just keep coming back, you know I will. You see that down there?” He gestures at their family, fighting the Krang that isn’t even here anymore, just so Leo won’t have to face it by himself. “They’re not giving up on you. I’m not giving up. I won’t ever, Ang. Don’t ask me to.” 

“Leo—” He says with a sigh, like the decisions already been made. 

“Mikey, stop,” He practically growls, panicking; something crashes behind him, down below where the fights going, he doesn’t look. He refuses to take his eyes off Mikey for a second in case he decides to fade away again. There has to be something there. There’s something to this, he knows there is. Since Leo was small, there’s been a constant he’s held close. It’s proven itself over and over again; when Raph fought through the Krang control, when their Dad gave up the world to save them and they saved it too, every time his brothers pulled through the impossible. Together, they’re stronger than anything— he knows this, he knows it. Mikey put a hole in the world to keep Leo safe. The universe rewrote itself because he made it change, and it only took them a month or two to see the threads anyways. The thrum in him is louder again, but it feels tethered somehow here. Like he could wrap himself around the line of it in his chest and pull. 

“We’ll keep remembering, as long as it takes, you know we will. It doesn’t matter how many times we forget, we’ll always remember you I swear—  Michelangelo, you’re my only baby brother, you think something as stupid as the universe can take you from me?” 

The waterlogged smile he gets could power the sun, he’s sure of it. He leans his head forward, where their foreheads would touch if he could. 

“You have to come back. I don’t care what we have to fight, we’re getting our little brother home.” 

“I want to, Leo, I just— I don’t know how. Not without losing you.”

He wants to say he’d do it, he’d jump right into the black hole to switch places but he remembers how this always went. Mikey learned it from him, from Raph, from their Dad, after all. It wouldn’t fix anything to lose himself either— maybe that’s the lesson at the core here. Leo was never alone on the asteroid, because his baby brother was breaking through space to get to him. And Mikey should never be alone here.

“It’s okay, Angelo, I—” He swallows again, Mikey looks so, so tired. He’s been here for months, Leo realizes, watching them all skip over him and time rewrite without him—  He has an idea, maybe it’ll break everything but he would. For Mikey, he would. “When have we ever played by the rules, hey? Mad Dogs make our own path, right?” 

He'd do anything for his little brother, including break the universe back. Without hesitating, watching Mikey's expression shift from sad to confused, and just that touch of hopeful, he grabs that thread in him, the one that’s been bright and loud and constant for months, and he pulls. 

___

There’s a thunderstorm somewhere far enough— Mikey can hear it in the pipes, in the walls. He’d only seen the sky when it was like this once, rolling gray and dark with thick bolts of lightning scattering apart; through the sewer grates it had looked almost like TV static, far away and strange. It’s loud up there and down here, the water rushing past all the chunks of stone that make up their home and away. 

Leo doesn’t like it, Mikey knows. Every time it storms, his eyes get more white than dark. All big and round and alert, and he jumps at everything. He thinks Mikey doesn’t notice. 

Raphie says it's okay to be afraid of things, like going up top because it's dangerous and they can’t run away or hide good enough yet to be safe. Raph’s afraid of the little dolls that they sometimes find washed up at the bottom of tunnels, he says they have empty eyes and it makes him uneasy; Donnie says Raphie watched a movie on TV that he shouldn’t have. Mikey thinks he’s probably afraid of the monsters in the tunnels, even though Donnie says they aren’t real— he’s heard them, though. He’s sure of it. Donnie also says that people think his brothers are the monsters, which is silly. 

Donnie’s afraid of a big word Mikey never remembers— he says the sun will burn out one day like it runs out of juice and everything will freeze like an icicle forever. He says this like its obvious, but he spends a lot of time reading about it anyways like he can make it go forever if he tries. Mikey thinks he could, Dee made their TV work so it’s probably possible he can do anything. 

Mikey’s not sure what Leo’s afraid of. He knows the water is loud and sounds like the monsters are just outside the doors sometimes, and that they had to leave their old house because there was a pipe that was too old in a wall and it made all their food wet. Leo says he’s not afraid of water, though, and he cannonballs in as big and bright as Raphie whenever they swim in the big water spot down the way. Leo also says monsters aren’t real, and that he’d chase all of them off for Mikey if they were, and he doesn’t think Leo could do any of that if he was scared of them. 

He’s still jumpy when it’s stormy out, though, and never wants to go too far from their room when Dad leaves to find food or things they need. It sure seems like Leo is afraid of something, but Mikey knows his brothers and he knows that Leo is brave and funny and sometimes sneaks cookies from the top shelf for him even when he’s not supposed to. Leo’s not afraid, because it’s Mikey who’s always afraid. 

When Mikey was convinced there was a monster in their bathroom and had been too terrified to run and get Dad, Leo was the one who’d picked up his practice katana and charged in yelling. When Mikey and Leo had gotten stuck in the closet while they’d been playing hide and seek, Leo was the one who started telling him a big dramatic story so it would stop feeling so small. 

It is okay to be scared, but Leo never is. 

“Leo?” He calls— he’s too small to grab the big light, the one Dad says they should only use in emergencies, but it’s dark and Dad went to grab something outside, and Donnie’s been sick so he can’t fix it like he usually does. He thinks this is maybe an emergency. 

Mikey wasn’t supposed to even be away from his brothers when Dad went outside, but Leo had said he’d be right back before the lights went out and Raphie had asked him to check on him. The water is loud in the walls. 

“Leo? I— Raphie says to come back,” He tries again. His voice only wavers a little, and he’s pretty proud because he thinks he might actually be very scared standing in the dark by himself. He doesn’t remember their living room being so big, or the kitchen being so far away, but it feels like miles and miles. It’s cold out here, too. 

Something rattles around the corner near the kitchen. Mikey jumps before realizing it’s probably Leo— sometimes he plays pranks like that, hiding around a corner to jump out. He thinks it’s funny how loud Raph and Mikey will yell, but it’s not. Mikey made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t scream anymore so Leo would stop doing it— he squares his shoulders, and balls up his fists as best as he can. “It’s okay to be afraid,” Mikey tells himself softly.  

Donnie says being scared of the dark is natural, that it’s some behind the brain thought that means other turtles survived longer. Being nervous was helpful, once. Him and his brothers are going to be ninjas soon though, and ninjas weren’t scared or nervous, they were careful. Dad always says that, to be careful and sure. Mikey tries to walk more slowly, quietly— not because there are ghosts waiting for him, but because his stinky older brother that likes to scare him might be. And Mikey isn’t scared, because he’s like Leo. 

The kitchen is strange in the dark, it’s wide and tall, and Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how high the ceiling goes. There’s an extra splotch of darkness at the very top, he imagines as a big bug waiting for him, and swallows nervously. 

He manages a whisper. “Leo…?” 

He imagines a different time, coming through the dark kitchen. Maybe he’d help Leo with the soup because Mikey wasn’t old enough to use the can opener or reach all the pans, but he watched Dad make it real close, and he knows you have to turn the stove handle to the right dot to make it heat up best. Maybe Leo would be here, and he’d jump out at Mikey and he’d be brave enough to not flinch, and Leo would ruffle him on the head the way he does. 

“Um,” He swallows again, willing himself not to cry as he takes in the empty room around him. The pots and pans look menacing hanging above him like this, like teeth waiting to fall, and the splotch on the ceiling is moving he’s sure of it. The rush of the water seems louder, too, like it knows Mikey’s here and his brothers can’t find him because it’s too dark, and Dad isn’t home to fix it. “This isn’t funny, Leo.” 

Maybe none of them happen, because Mikey is in the kitchen in the dark, and he’s waiting for Leo and he’s scared, and there’s no Leo at all. He turns to look for the door, to go back and wait with his brothers— it’s too dark, suddenly, to see where the door is at all. A pipe groans, or maybe a monster growls, and he squeaks, throwing himself at the nearest wall. He tucks himself in small, holding his knees close. After a moment, nothing moves— another moment, another nothing. 

The room is darker now, he can’t even see the splotch on the ceiling. He’s not sure he’s in the kitchen at all. 

“I’m lost,” He says to his knees, and presses his face into them to hold himself smaller. 

Dad will be home, and he’ll turn the lights on, and everyone will make fun of Mikey for being so scared, and Leo will pop out of the corner he’s hiding in and maybe Mikey will even cry. It’s okay if they make fun of him, as long as it's not dark anymore. As long as he stops being alone. 

He thinks he’s maybe been alone for a long time. 

“--key! Mikey, hold on!” 

Mikey blinks up, around— that sounded like— 

“Mikey, is that you?” 

He jumps, the kitchen— he can see it again— it’s still dark, but if he squints, he thinks he can see a figure on the other side, by the table. 

“...Leo?” 

The figure moves, uncurling itself from underneath the chair legs and shakily standing up. Mikey manages a brave shuffle closer as his eyes try to adjust— it is Leo, rubbing at his eyes fiercely and clearing his throat. “Jeeze, Mike. Way to sneak up on a guy.” 

Mikey almost doesn’t move for a second, feeling strangely out of place. “Mike?” Leo says, nervously, and all of the neurons in him rewire with a sharp burst in his chest as he scrambles forwards, throwing himself into his brother's arms. 

“It was dark! And— I couldn’t find you!” 

Leo’s hand comes up to hold the back of Mikey’s head, like he always does. “Hey— shh. Angie, it’s okay, hey? I've got you, always got you.” 

Mikey leans back, and scrubs at his eyes, trying to glare as fiercely as he can at his big brother in spite of the tears. “I was calling for you, and— and you couldn’t hear me!” Leo winces, something sheepish lacing across his face. There’s something else too, Mikey can’t read it so it doesn’t matter he figures. Leo always tells him, he always listens. 

“I heard you, I promise,” He holds Mikey closer for a second. “Sorry it took me a while— I always heard you.” 

He doesn’t know what that means but it appeases something in him anyways, he squeezes his brother as hard as he can. “Don’t go off on your own ever again,” Mikey tells him, muffled into his chest. “You gotta take me with you, too.” 

Leo doesn’t say anything for a long moment, humming quietly as he rubs Mikey’s shell. “I’m here now, hey? Not going anywhere, you’re not getting rid of me.” 

That’s good, he thinks. That’s where he should be. Here and nowhere else. Mikey’s not brave enough to be alone without him. 

He feels embarrassment wring through him. “I was scared,” He confesses, apologetic. Leo will probably tease him for it, when it’s light again. He’ll probably tell Raph like its a joke, but then stick more glow stars on the ceiling for him anyways. 

“Me too,” Leo says, quietly. “I was. I was really scared.”

Oh, Mikey blinks, rewires his thoughts. “Don’t have to be scared,” He tells Leo, because it’s what Dad says to him, too. “I can be brave and we can take turns.”

Leo laughs, gentle and quiet, his hug gets so tight Mikey debates telling him to let go, but— he’s shaking, a little, like he’s breathing all funny. He doesn’t want to tell Leo to stop if it helps. 

“Okay, little brother.” 

Mikey leans back, and takes Leo’s hand in his. He looks around the kitchen— it seems smaller, now.

“We can go now,” He says, and he’s not sure why. Leo’s mouth is flat and terse like it is when he’s really sad, but he manages a small smile anyways. 

It’s not as many steps to cross the room, and the splotch on the ceiling is just a shadow, really. He pulls Leo along behind him, squaring himself as bravely as he can. It’s easy, with Leo’s hand in his. It’s just a silly room, they make cereal bowls in the morning and sometimes Dad lets them put salt in the pot for spaghetti, and Leo makes silly faces when they clean dishes to make it fun. It’s a room in his house, and he’s safe here even when the pipes are loud and it’s dark. It's a room and Leo's here, and they're safe together.

He thinks about Donnie, waiting for soup. About Raph and his big worried bros, and the way he lets Mikey climb up on his shoulders to see up higher. He thinks about a hallway, and the twelve and a half steps to the stairs and the ten steps up to their floor, and the ten more steps to their bedroom. There’s something warm in his fingertips, in his chest, like he’s just had soup, or been bundled up in his favorite spot in their hammock between his brothers, and Dad is in the hallway turning off the light. 

The yellow through their ratty blue blanket always turns red and orange at the side, purple at the bottom. 

He can see the door to the hallway now— it’s not far to where his brothers are, and Dad said he’d be home soon. Mikey thinks he might be tired, though. He thinks he’s been tired for a long time. 

“I want to go home,” He tells Leo, from some place outside himself. His hands tingle funny, he thinks he’d like to rest, but the door is right there and he made it, and it’s glowing bright as anything— 

Leo’s hand is firm and warm and squeezes back, and he can take another step. 

____

Mikey wakes up warm. 

He stretches, reaches as high up as he can to touch the wall behind his headboard, same as he always does. He feels the grooves of the stone under his fingers, and the light vibration of the pipes behind it. He feels the stiffness in his spine loosen, uncurl, like he’s been tucked into his shell for too long.

It’s quiet, he realizes; his home is a ripcord of motion normally. Raph always gets up early and makes tea, and sits with Dad for a little while before Mikey ambles down to get breakfast going. He can usually hear music already, or Don’s electronics whirring if he’d pulled another all nighter, or the thrum of a TV. There’s none of that now. If he focuses, he can hear soft puffs of breath somewhere beside him. 

The realization doesn’t hit him for a long moment. He opens his eyes and sees his room, the outlines of plastic stuck on stars on the ceiling, the pile of comics tucked carefully onto his bookshelf, and — Leo. Sleeping with his head on his hand, leaning half onto Mikey’s bed from the floor. 

He blinks and— 

He’s standing on an asteroid, the one he lost Leo on. Some unthinkable distance away from home, caught high up in the air and all alone. The Krang is missing, because Mikey did it right this time, finally. He found the branch within all the branches that would get Leo home— the one where Mikey never existed to begin with. The only branch where Leo grew up being the baby of the family where his overprotective brothers never allowed him to even venture into self-sacrificial acts of heroism. The only one where Leo figures out a different plan.

They’re happy here, he knows. They will be happy here, even if Leo doesn’t believe him. 

His brother is all highlighter outrage and heartbreak, a full study in devastation in technicolor, and all Mikey can think of is that he loves him. That he’s glad he’s safe. That if this is the only gift he can ever give any of them again, a way to skip grieving at all, then he’s glad. He’s only sorry to be the one leaving first. 

“What are you talking about?” Leo’s voice shakes, his eyes are wild. He’s not supposed to even know what’s happening, not supposed to be able to talk to Mikey like this, but his brothers have always had a way of doing the impossible. “You’re not going anywhere, stop it.” 

“Leo, it’s too late. I’m– I’m not going anywhere, not really. You’ll see.” 

Leo’s expression twists further, it hurts to look at, it does, but Mikey makes himself memorize all of it just in case. 

“You think I’ll let that happen?”

“You don’t have a choice—”

“I don’t care, Michael. I don’t— what. My baby brother is badass enough to change space and time just because he decided to, and you think I’m going to let that one up me? If you can change the timeline, then so can I.”

Mikey smiles, despite himself. He wonders how it’s possible to be so afraid and full of love all at once, he doesn’t know how there’s room. "Leo, you have to let me go. It's okay."

His big brother is so, so sad. It aches and hollows him out to see it, he's never seen Leo like this before. Like the sun just burnt itself out right in the sky. “If I let you go, I'll lose you." He says, simply, horrifically. 

"Maybe that's how it's s'pposed to go," Mikey shrugs, hiccuping on a sob.

Leo's expression shifts, firm lines pouring in between. He leans close and pokes him in the chest, eyes flashing fierce. "It's not. It can't be, I won't let it. You’re not going anywhere, baby brother. I’m not doing any of this without you.” 

The world unravels apart in front of him and Leo’s eyes never leave his. 

“You awake?” 

Mikey jumps, hands curled tight into his comforter so hard it hurts. Leo’s staring at him now, expression entirely unreadable. 

“Leo, I—” 

He holds up a hand, swiping at Mikey’s chin gently. “Great to see you up. Worried we weren’t going to be able to wake you for a bit there. How are your hands?” 

His hands? Mikey blinks down at himself. His hands are a network of glowing lines, worse than before. Last time they’d opened up like fissures, pure gold creeping through before settling into paler scars against his scales. Now, it looks like his hands are barely holding back straight sunlight, more cracked lines than not. It doesn’t… hurt, though. 

“Okay,” He says, his voice is croaky and small. Leo smiles at him, rubs the top of his head in a smooth motion before standing. 

“I’ll let Don know you’re awake, he wanted to check in on all of that.” 

Leo hasn’t actually looked him in the eyes, Mikey realizes with a pang— instinctively, desperately, he grabs Leo’s hand before he can walk away. Some part of him terrified abruptly that Leo’s so furious with him it’ll be like this forever, never quite looking at him but too scared to leave. Like magnets constantly repelling each other. Leo's his best friend, just like Donnie and Raph, but he's always wanted to be as brave as Leo was his whole life. He can't be mad at him for doing what Leo would have done, did do a thousand times over, he can't.

“Don’t— um. Don’t go?” 

Leo’s shoulders hitch high, he’s staring at the doorway flatly. Tense. Mikey has an insane urge to apologize, desperately, but he’s not even really sorry. If Leo’s here then he did it right, it was worth it. If Leo’s here then Mikey made the correct choice, no matter what Leo thinks.

They stay like that for a long second, Mikey holding Leo’s wrist with both hands, Leo facing away. He can feel Leo’s pulse under his thumb, it’s settling some terrified white noise in his head, in spite of himself. He can breathe knowing Leo's here.

Actually, he’s breathing a lot— big heaving breaths that tear through him all at once. He can feel Leo’s heartbeat and he’s alive, and Mikey’s here, and he can see him and— he was so tired of being alone, of trying to be brave. Maybe he always believed Leo would find him, maybe that wasn’t fair of him at all. He just doesn’t want Leo to hate him for it. 

“I— I…” He tries, the sentences evaporating into nothing before him. 

Leo turns instantly, switching their hands so he’s holding onto Mikey’s wrist just as tightly. His eyes are wet, Mikey realizes. 

“Angelo—” 

“Leo—” Mikey stops, bites his lip. Leo doesn’t look angry, not really, but he’s not sure. “I’m. I’m just happy to see you.”

Something crashes across the flat dark of his eyes, splintering it apart like a lightning storm, all motion and sparked urgency. 

“I missed you so much,” Leo says, and pulls him into a hug. 

Mikey gasps, tears falling from wide eyes. “I thought… I thought you’d be mad.” 

“I am,” Leo sniffs, choking on a breath as he bundles Mikey closer. “I’m so fucking mad at you, but I love you and you were missing. Don’t ever do that to me again.” 

“You jumped first,” Mikey manages, some backwards anger from a reality that no longer matters leeching forwards. 

Leo shakes his head, hooks his chin on top of Mikey’s forehead. “Big brothers are supposed to do stuff like that. I knew you’d save my shell.” 

“No you didn’t,” Mikey argues, balling his fists up to push at Leo’s chest. “You didn’t, because I didn’t even know. You were going to leave me behind.” 

There’s a fraction of a space between them as Leo lifts his head, and it’s horrible. His eyes are swollen red, tears still streaming from them; he looks just as heartbroken as before, but Mikey’s fine. Leo shouldn't look like he's still losing Mikey when they're here together, that's silly, that hurts in a way Mikey doesn't know how to make better. He puts both hands on Leo's cheeks anyways, to keep him in one piece all together.

“Never,” Leo swears wetly. “I’ll always come back for you, you hear me? Nowhere you can go I can’t annoy you back where you belong.”

“Same for you,” Mikey insists, it sounds like begging. “I’m a badass mystic warrior now. I’ll just drag you back home.” 

Leo lets out a shaking breath, and Mikey sniffles too.

"I was trying to tell you that I loved you," Mikey offers, wobbling all the way down to the core of himself. "Did you hear me?"

His big brother's face twists, crashes to pieces and his shoulders shake, leaning all his weight forwards into Mikey's hands and closing his eyes. "Course I did," He says, as easy as anything. "Of course I did."

____

Leo has another dream. 

It’s softer— it’s not on the asteroid, there’s no Krang or portal or giant ship. He’s younger, skipping through the sewers after his Dad and his brothers. Dad has Raph’s hand in his, and Raph’s holding onto Donnie’s sleeve to make sure he doesn’t stray too far either. He gets distracted sometimes, by the details that pile up in his head. Raphie keeps an eye on Donnie though. 

Leo’s supposed to be doing something, he thinks. 

The tunnels are tall and wide, and there’s hints of lights through the grates high up above that make spackled golden dots on the stone. He peers closely at a puddle, the way the light seems to absorb it all in. When he looks up, his family is trailing farther away. Faint outlines in the murky distance— he needs to catch up, he thinks. Or when the rain comes we’ll get separated. 

Dad’s watching out for Raph, who’s watching out for Donnie, though, so they’ll be okay. It’s Leo’s job to make sure they don’t get separated. 

The tunnels are still light, but they’re long and the splotches of light look like sun through the tree leaves, and his family turns a corner. Leo’s alone. 

He wakes up, standing in a tunnel. 

It’s dark. Of course it’s dark— for a disorienting moment, Leo’s not sure he’s actually awake. The jumpcut between his last memories of ambling off to bed to now don’t seem to fit in any way he can make sense of, but the stone under his feet is cold and solid anyways. He knows this tunnel, probably. He knows all of the offshoot tunnels by their home like the back of his hand— he’s not lost. He isn’t. 

He is alone, though. 

The dream is still floating through his mind, a cloud that hasn’t fully let up and drifted off as it weighs thick and heady. A thundercloud, dropping low with all its gray and heavy lightning. They didn’t wander off without him, he knows— except. It’s just that they could have, couldn’t they? Any one of them could be cut clean through again. 

He knows the memory his mind had latched onto. His heart beats frantic and loud for a moment as he realizes. He’d been there with Mikey, it was his job to watch his baby brother; he’d been there with Mikey, but he’d forgotten again. How could he have forgotten, again? What if he hadn’t fixed it, not really, and any one of them could fade out of the forefront without him noticing? 

The tunnel is dark, and he’s alone— he knows this tunnel, his home is a few steps around the corner, and he must have slept walked all the way out but he can go back. He knows his brothers: Donnie, Raph, Mikey. He hasn’t forgotten them, he hasn’t. 

There were fifteen seconds that he was alone in the dark when the power went out. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Raph’s voice bounces off the stone around them— Leo whirls around before his mind catches fully up, and Raph sweeps him up further into a bear hug with it. “Pretty sure you’re still grounded.” 

Leo blinks frantically, feeling the slight tremble of Raph’s arms around him. Donnie peeks his head over Raph’s shoulder. “So, turns out I didn’t remove the trackers on all of you that I said I did, go figure.” 

“Which I’ll allow this one time, on account of bozo activity.” Raph says. “But we will be revisiting at a later time, with Dad.” 

“What—” Leo turns his head. Donnie’s pretending to type on his wrist guard, but his eyes keep flickering up at Leo and away. Raph’s smile is tense at the edges. They’re here, they’re real, he hasn’t forgotten them, but then— 

Raph continues, he’s herding Leo forward and beginning the walk back home as he talks. “Maybe we give up the whole sleeping in separate rooms thing tonight and do a sleepover instead. We can put your favorite on.”

“I won’t even argue on which film is the best, this one time only,” Donnie says, magnanimously.  

Oh, Leo manages a shaky smile back. The ball of nervousness bubbles in his chest, he tries to swallow it down. “Better not be Punch Chowder then, because—”

“That’s only for criminals,” Mikey chirps in, patting Leo on the arm as they’re bustled forward. The knot in Leo’s chest relaxes. Everyone’s here, he didn’t forget them. The gratitude is nearly overwhelming, his knees nearly give out before Mikey swoops in under his arm, wrapping his own firmly around Leo’s shell. 

“Movie night sounds good,” He manages. His family, all where he can see them, can be sure he won’t wake up without any one of them. It sounds perfect. 

The lights are on, the tunnel is bright. He’s watching over Mikey and he’s holding onto all of them, and his hand is in Don’s. 

Yeah, he thinks. Everything where it’s supposed to be. 

[devil-spire]

Dark before dawn.

Chapter 1. Fake Divine.

"Destroying my faith No I won't fight in your games Destroying my faith And I don't wanna play it again"

Summary: Cast away from an eden of light, an angel with crooked wings crawls out from his own blood, fallen and broken in this new world.

Characters: Ruki Mukami, gn! reader.

Tags/warnings: fallen angel AU, blood, first meetings, series.

Author's note: This is an AU in which Ruki is a fallen angel. I've been thinking about this idea since his More Blood route and I wanted to write it. I intend to make it a series, I hope you enjoy <3 I made a playlist for this specific AU as well. You can listen to it here.

An unfamiliar sensation shoots through the being’s body.

In fact, man would be a more correct word to describe him, now that he’s been stripped of all divinity.

Decaying wings scrape against the concrete as he tries to move.

Is this what they call pain?

Is this feeling akin to flesh and bone being ripped apart what they call ache?

He tries to flap his wings, or what remains of them; once, pristine white feathers cascaded, soaring above clouds of light.

Now, ashen branches seem to span from his scarred back, a cruel reminder of an eternity denied.

Glazed steely eyes direct skyward.

His sight is met with a vast nothingness.

How long has it passed since he fell?

It certainly does feel like an eternity, yet it can’t have been more than a couple days, at most.

He should get moving. In his current state, it is not wise to linger in the same place for too long.

Dirt scratches against his palms when he tries to stand.

For someone of seraphic blood to have to crawl through the ground… This is ridiculous.

The fallen angel clenches his teeth, an expression befitting more of a demon contorting his face.

Then,

“Hey, are you okay?”

Dark icy eyes focus on a figure standing a few feet away from him.

Tsk, to have to look at someone when he is the one standing below them… Outrageous.

At first he doesn’t reply, giving the stranger a nasty look.

He despises hypocrisy, and especially those who pity him, after all.

So how dare a mere human ask if he is okay?

How dare such a lowly being have the nerve to even fathom the idea that he needs help.

The broken angel finally stands up, crooked wings sprouting from his back, his energy too low to even hide them.

“Wait!” They call after him. Rushed footsteps follow. “You’re bleeding!” 

The dark haired man barks a laugh. He’s got wings on his back in plain sight and this person is worried about him bleeding.

He notices the concern etched on the human’s eyes, their serious expression unwavering.

“Are you sure you can go on like that?” They ask.

’Yes.’ The halo-less angel thinks. That is what he’s always done after all. Take everything for granted, never walking side by side with others and never acknowledging their help.

He takes another step forward. Or tries to, at least.

The next thing he knows, the world is tilting sideways and disappearing before the absolute darkness of his sight.

—

Coppery light floods the back of his eyelids as he tries to open his eyes.

Sluggishly, he takes in his surroundings.

He doesn’t recognize them as the street he was wandering a while earlier.

“You’ve awoken, I see.”

Now, that voice he’s heard before.

That annoying human is sitting in front of him, an enigmatic smile on their face.

What’s with them and that look of… kindness? in their eyes? He can’t stand it.

The angel quickly sits up, before pain in sharp waves shoots through his back.

“Easy there, you don’t want to reopen them.” The human gives a slight nod, eyes meaningfully glancing in his back’s direction.

Fresh bandages cover the fallen’s back, loose enough that his crooked wings can still move freely.

The irony of it, when he knows he’ll never fly again.

“What gave you the right to bring me here or tend to my wounds?” The dark angel juts his chin upwards, tone haughty.

You raise a brow, crossing your legs from your perch in the chair opposite from the couch he lies in.

The man’s lofty tone surely is in contradiction with his bruised body. But when you notice his movements, and the way he carries himself… They do certainly hold an elegance you can’t quite place.

“Would you have rather bled yourself out to death?”

“I don’t need your pity or you trying to get in my good graces.”

“So, is it just a normal occurrence for you to see someone suffering in front of you and doing nothing?”

’Suffering?’ The angel snorts.

What do you even know about what that feels like?

“You are so pretentious.” He remarks.

“Says the one who insisted he was fine when he literally collapsed on the street.” You cross your arms, leaning forward with a knowing smirk.

He really can’t stand you.

“What’s your name, by the way?” You ask.

He hesitates for a moment, then he supposes it’s fine to tell you, since you are so insistent, maybe you’ll leave him in peace if he answers.

“Ruki.” 

You offer him a softer smile, introducing yourself too.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ruki.”

However, the only pleasing interaction you’ve had since he woke up is short lived.

“Well, if you'll excuse me, i have places to be now.” The man who introduced himself as Ruki states, pushing the blanket covering him away.

“Places to be?” You echo, a skeptical smile curving your lips. “Where exactly? The ground of some back alley?” You retort, snorting. “Listen, you literally collapsed from blood loss. Do you honestly expect me to believe you are in any condition to be safe out there in your current state?”

Arguably, no.

If Ruki were to be honest with himself and come to terms with all the feelings he keeps locked inside his iron encased heart, he definitely won’t be okay at all out there.

“And how, pray tell, is that any of your business?” But perhaps being dishonest with himself was one of his very few flaws.

“Well, aren't you stubborn?” You sigh. Your expression softens, gentleness returning to your tone. “Stay the night. Give time for your wounds to at least stop bleeding, have a proper meal and stuff.”

Those stormy eyes of his hold your gaze.

Maybe you hadn’t realized how deep and beautiful they were up until now.

“Fine. One night.” The angel grumbles.

A satisfied grin tugs at your lips as you get up to prepare some snacks.

: ̗̀➛ posted to my ao3 too: PrincessAmy.

[crossovershipsandedits]

Please consider looking to see if characters have a canon orientation (like lesbian or gay man) before posting ships of them.

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful day~

To address this ask, I first pose a question myself; Why?

The point of shipping, or really any fan creation, is to show your love and support for media/a character by expressing yourself, your thoughts and your theories/headcanon's through your work. The reason a lot of characters are loveable and popular is because they are fully capable of allowing fans to see themselves in them and see their versions without destroying the canon.

For example; If we look at Zoro from One Piece. As far as we're aware, bro has little to no romantic inclination. And yet his top ship is with another man on the crew, who happens to be woman loving Sanji. But it isn't something that feels wrong or out of place, because the ambiguity is there and their relationship is prebuilt, fans just need to figure out how it moves to romantic. The ability to see past the initial "Oh, Sanji loves women" and see the potential branches for this path. Yes, it's probably canon he legit loves women like that, but it could also be a trauma reaction based on his back story. Or it could ALSO be possible that he's bi/pan/etc

In short; Just because someone is shown a certain way, doesn't mean that's the only option. As fans we have the freedom to conjure up theories and beliefs based on the information presented to us.

Another good example would be Naruto. He's married to a woman, and yet it's still VERY much suggested that he loves Sasuke the same way. There is no "definite" answer. Assuming there is purely because of the canon relationships is a little closed minded in my opinion.

AND, even if it is stated, people change. We weren't born thinking "Oh heck yeah, dong". We develop our tastes as we grow and learn and experience new things. A great example would be Deadpool for this. He starts off in love with a woman (I'm speaking film wise by the way) and continues to love her, but very much over the course of their relationship begins to experiment and opens up that door for himself. Some people need to find the right person that makes them question themselves before they can confirm anything. Or, on the flip side, they need to see a lot of potential and not react lovingly/sexually to them in order to put the pieces together for aro/ace.

Life is a mystery bag of tags and labels that we as humans made to understand things better, and that's ok. Be who you are and love what/who you love. Be YOU

Anyway, I think I went a bit off tangent haha XD All I'm trying to say is, doors aren't entirely shut because of one thing or another. Fans can and will continue to express themselves and their thoughts through their loved characters, and that's ok. It's healthy even! I know people who use characters to test the waters for themselves because it can't hurt the people around them. It's harmless. A bit of fun, if you will.

I will always say this to these kinds of comments, ones where you should ask yourself "why am I bothering to send this?".

It is easier to keep scrolling past something you don't like, then drawing attention to it, and yourself, by commenting something that could hurt or upset an innocent person, and honestly makes you look like a silly grumpy guts :)

Keep sailing guys, gals and non-binary pals!!

[raving-raven-writing]

Recom Headcanons

So, some of this is from my mind, but some of these headcanons I'm sure are based off others' headcanons I've seen. Also, some of these headcanons may actually be written in terms of some of my fics that I have written for Avatar. Particularly if you have read my story Lost and Found or any of my Recom Smut series. @hellpmeimobsessed You asked me to tag you, so here you go! Warning: Some of these headcanons may contain mention of past abuse/past child abuse/past sexual abuse, and may also contain content in terms of what the character enjoys in the bedroom Brown: -Was SAed when he was younger -Loves karaoke, even though he might be a bit tone deaf -Enjoys cuddling naked with his partner -Did modelling for a brief period of time before he decided to join the marines Fike: -....I got nothing for him, sorry. No hate to him, just don't have any at the moment.

Ja: -Was raised by his grandparents -Seeing the EMTs work on his grandma sparked his interest in wanting to become a medic -A sensitive soul, rather quiet and reserved -Enjoys movies, most genres except for horror; is a bit of a baby when it comes to the scary movies -Has minimal sexual experience compared to some of the others; but has always wanted to titty f**k his partner -Him, Prager, and Lopez are close

Lopez: -Is a masochist and will openly admit to it -Comes from a large family, a middle child of five. Very close with all of them. -Has problems with authority figures, always having to hold his tongue so he doesn't get himself into trouble -Very protective to those he loves or is loyal to -A rather horny drunk...this may or may not be how he and Ja got it on Mansk: -Has a light sensitivity, hence the sunglasses all the time. But also uses the sunglasses as a layer of protection of being perceived by others -Sits somewhere on the autism spectrum but was never diagnosed, comes across as just being "socially awkward" -Gives off the "strong and silent type" vibe -Was sexually abused by his uncle as a child well up until his late teen years -Definitely a mama's boy - The younger of two kids. Has an older sister named Nora -Turned to cooking as a way to cope with his trauma--found he had a gift for it and just kept at it. But also enjoys making others feel good by being able to give them a good meal

Prager: -Is a pothead -Grew up with alcoholic/drug addict parents, but was eventually fostered by an old teacher who took him under their wing -Likes most types of card games and board games -Stress cleans -Enjoys rollerblading and skateboarding -Easy going/go with the flow type of person--both in day to day things and in bed Quaritch: -Grew up on a farm -Raised by an abusive/alcoholic father and a mother that fell ill when he was in his teens -The oldest of three children---lost connection with his siblings when he left to join the military -His relationship with Paz started as her simply flirting with him based on a dare, but eventually turned into a fling as Miles was impressed by her boldness -Smokes when stressed but turns to alcohol as a bad coping mechanism if given the opportunity -Enjoys camping and hiking and being able to be out in nature so he can reflect upon life and to be able to get more in touch with his emotions -Likes to take charge in bed, but Paz is able to persuade him into being a sub in some situations Wainfleet -Has a bit of a crush on the Colonel. He thinks it isn't obvious, but some of the others see it -Is a switch in the bedroom. But prefers to be the sub when he is with his girlfriend, Mina. -Makes jokes constantly despite the fact that he struggles with his mental health--saw being the funny man as a way to make others like him -A middle child of three; has an older brother who is also in the military, but joined the Army branch, and a younger sister, who died when he was about thirteen -Grew up on a farm, although not many people know this -Grew up being rather sensitive and a "cry baby" as his brother dubbed him. Was a big mama's boy and her death damn near broke him -Smokes when stressed

Walker: -Likes to scrapbook in her spare time -Her and Z-Dog have flings with one another, but neither of them would label themselves as an "item" -Likes to sit down with a good book on a stormy day and curl up by the fire with some comforting snacks Warren: -Gives off the "strong and silent type" vibe -Has a crush on Mansk (initially unrequited?) -Is gay, but no one knows this (at first) -Is very much a wallflower, people forget he is there sometimes -In sexual relations, is very straightforward and a take charge type of guy--but makes sure that he is never rough with his partner

Z-Dog: -Grew up in a house full of men. Her mother left when she was young, so she just had her dad and her three brothers -Was very much a tomboy before realizing that she liked girls more then she liked men -Her father was a mechanic so she knows her way around a car -Enjoys physical sports like boxing and kickboxing -Chews gum as a way to manage her anxiety as well as to curb any emotional eating Zhang: -Is one of the three "strong and silent types" (with Warren and Mansk being the other two) -Rarely smiles -Enjoys shibari (Japanese rope bondage) and 69ing -Looks mean since he has a "resting bitch face" but can be quite gentle and doting with his partner -Joined the marines as a way to rebel against his parents since they wanted him to become a doctor or lawyer or engineer.

That's all I got for now. Might eventually develop some headcanons for Fike and might add on to what I have here. Hope you enjoyed reading!