#scanner cop 2

[fatmagic]

[covington-shenanigans]

in honor of this amazing post by @robotmango. thank u for ur service, I think of you and your suffering every August since 2016

(i have no idea what you and/or your husband look like, please accept any needed apologies for inaccuracies in gender/race/height/tendency to sarcasm/etc. hope you don't mind that i immortalized your already immortal and correct opinions in what I suppose is technically RPF fan art)

[owlzshitshow]

doodles 'n shitposting

[dandylovesturtles]

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

[g00d--m0urning]

Unnamed Pt. 2 (Daryl Dixon x AFAB!reader)

Yippie, part two!!

Part one

TW/CW: vomiting, gore and violence (not super descriptive, dw), reader is pregnant so obvi AFAB but no gendered descriptors, ex-cop!reader, swearing, no use of Y/N, grammar mistakes

WC: 3942

A/N: I promise it'll pick up speed :'( I'm definitely not doing an episode by episode rewrite. And Daryl and Reader will finally reunite next part, so I'm looking forward to writing that.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A car swerves off the road, trying to avoid scrambling pedestrians, straight towards you; you jump over the hood of a car nearby, narrowly avoiding the car as it bursts into flame. You rush back around, checking on the driver; who is nonexistent apparently, there’s nobody in there. “What the fuck!?” you breathe out, jogging over to your car and getting it started. You get the radio on, switching to the emergency channel, wishing you had your police scanner with you as you get onto the road, heading in direction to the precinct.

If there’s one place you’ll be safe it should be a police station, right? There’s at least guns for whatever the hell is going on. Sirens flash in your rearview, trying to get you to pull over--you swear, but do so anyhow. “Do you know why I--Shit! Greenie?” you recognize the voice, it’s officer Cameron. He leans into your open window pulling his sunglasses down. “Heading down to the precinct?”

“Yeah. Do you know what the hell is going on?” you ask, turning the radio down and surveying both Cameron and behind him. It’s like some sort of apocalypse, but that’s far fetched, you think.

He shakes his head, “Nah, nah; I don’t, there’s too much going on. We’re getting calls left and right, whole damn city’s going into panic.” he answers, scratching at his stereotypical cop-stache. His walkie blares, unintelligible words coming through. “Hey, be safe, get off the roads soon.”

He pats your shoulder, walking off quickly as he speeds off. That was no help at all, you knew all of that already. You groan, pulling back onto the road and getting to your destination. 

Cops are flooding in and out of the building, paramedics and firefighters all gathered there; behind you there’s black SUV’s pulling in, FBI you assume. What in the shit is going on? You sprint into the building, watching the chief dole out guns to anyone in reach, the news is blaring, radios screeching, people yelling, you can barely hear anything. “Greenie, here! Take this, and get home, youngin’. Stay safe, stay indoors.” the chief orders, shoving a glock and a few boxes of ammo into your arms and practically shoving you out the door. You flounder slightly, confused and in need of answers, opening your mouth to speak but you’re cut off, “No time to explain, too much to do, just keep that kid of yours safe.” You gape, throwing your arms in the air. In your confusion you remember Daryl, crap; Daryl, is he ok? You imagine he should be, the man can survive anything, but still. You pull out your phone and dial his number and he doesn’t answer, of course. Fucking, fuck, fuckity fuck, whatever. 

The drive back home is insane, fires and dead people--Dead people? You slam on your brakes, just barely stopping before the body in the middle of the street. You could puke; you’ve seen dead bodies, but never like this. Nothing like this is normal, the body is missing chunks from her arms and neck, like some freako cannibal case. 

The body twitches, just a cadaveric spasm (you learned that in school, you spent years looking at dead bodies, after death spasms are just remaining nerves working, it’s normal). She twitches again, and again and she’s up. You stare at the body in disgust and confusion and shock, you could've swore she was just dead. The undead reaches for you, jaws snapping at your ankles and glazed eyes staring at you. A scream garbles itself from your throat as you stagger back, nearly tripping over the car in the process. You fumble with the door handle, reaching over the center console to grab your gun; the thing manages to grab at your ankle in the time, making you kick out, trying to shake it off. 

You manage to get the gun and get two bullets into the crazed person. Bile rises in your throat as you look at the dead body, watching to see if she comes back again; thankfully she doesn’t and you can puke. You look at her, the bullet holes in her head, the rotting bite marks in her skin; it’s horrid, nothing you’ve seen before. God. 

The car ride home is intense, fires left and right, screaming people--more bitten people, you realize when you look closer at a few of them--and the radio is no help, reports of deaths, murders, and traffic jams. You pull into the parking garage for your apartment, parking in a far corner and tossing a tarp over it to hopefully keep it in better condition and out of view.

You can barely get to your apartment with all the people rushing to and fro throughout the building; some are leaving, packing their stuff into their cars, others are barricading themselves in their apartments. Fortunately you get into your apartment without being trampled, locking both the deadlock and door chain.

Rushing around your apartment is next, filling empty water jugs and bottles with water--who knows how long the water will be on--getting perishables cooked, and inventorying things like batteries, nonperishables, first-aid, anything one needs for an apocalypse.

You thank whatever god that does or doesn’t exist that you went shopping a few days ago; it was a big trip too, you were running low on pretty much everything. So, you don’t need to go try and conquer the shit show that is the shops, which were clearly being raided already. Getting the door barricaded shut was easy enough--bungee cords tied to the door handle and kitchen counter post, chair tucked under the knob (you had to learn quickly how to keep a door shut with Daryl’s old trailer, considering Merle had walked in on the two of you on multiple occasions).

-------------------------------------  

A month passes by very slowly. You never realized how boring it could get without modernity. Normal TV stopped playing a week in, even the emergency signal stopped broadcasting after that. Phones and utilities went week two, something about needing to horde supplies for the military who started setting up camps around that time. 

You had the vague thought of going to one, figuring it’d be safe and helpful with your pregnancy, but quickly learned otherwise over the radio. Infected managed to sneak into the one closest to you, killing most people, so you dodged that bullet. Which means, you’ve just been entertaining yourself with coloring, and light workouts, reading and people watching or--Zombie watching, you suppose. 

The fire escape provides a nice safe vantage point and you pretty much see the whole town--you tried the hall one time and it was overrun, almost didn’t make it back in--and the infected roaming the streets. A few people have passed through, most of them were raiders, passerby, but some were local, those who stayed; officer Cameron stayed, your ultrasound tech, she left a few days ago though. 

You’ve been thinking of doing the same as of late. You don’t know what you’d do if you did, head back to Georgia to find Daryl? Wander until you find a safezone or hell, even just a group so you’re not alone anymore. 

Your head rests in your hands as you contemplate the risks of leaving the apartment; with the zombies flooding the halls and the unknown number of them in the parking garage and who knows what could happen on the drive. 

You roll your eyes, leaning back in the desk chair, “Fuck me, man.” you groan, running a hand down your face as you stand up from the chair, grabbing a backpack out of the closet.

You busy yourself with packing the bag precariously: a few changes of clothes, your first aid kit, a book and notebook, food and water, the few boxes of ammo you have, a knife, a lighter, and in the last bit of space you shove a sleeping bag.

“Yeah, yeah, that should be everything.” you murmur to yourself as you tuck your gun and pocket knife into your belt. 

As you get a foot out of the window something catches your eye, making you pause and hurry back inside. You take the sonogram into your hands, staring at the black and white picture before gently placing it in the side pocket before finally slipping out the window.

You curse at the creaky fire escape as a few heads turn your ways, breathing a sigh of relief as they quickly get distracted. Just to be safe, you toss the plant you had long let die onto the street, watching as the undead shuffle to the noise in hopes of a meal. It’s unsettling, the way they move like puppets on a string, but you file that to the back of your mind and make quick work of the stairs.

Slinking down the alley and sneaking across the street is surprisingly easy--they’re genuinely so brain dead, there’s absolutely no semblance of the person they were before; it’s depressing if you think too hard of it. An involuntary sigh of relief pulls from your lips at the sight of your baby still sitting pretty in the garage. Silently you pull the gray tarp off the car, folding it over itself a few times and tossing it in the backseat along with your backpack into the passenger seat.

“Hello, my beautiful girl, I missed you, baby.” you coo at the car, running a hand over the slick, black roof. You dip back into the passenger seat, popping the glove box open and grabbing the map Daryl had insisted you keep in there.

It’d been annoying back then, but it makes you smile today; guess you really did need it. You unfold the map over the hood of your car, tapping the pencil you had wrapped up in the paper against it. Suddenly reading a map seems like a much more important skill as you stare at the lines representing roads, and rivers, and landmarks. Technically, you do know how to read one, but barely, it’s not like you were in a scouts troop as a kid.

There’s a few old markings on the map from Daryl--just a few words, circles to help direct you--it almost makes you cry. You chalk it up to pregnancy hormones as you swallow thickly, marking up the map for your trip. If you remember correctly, it took about twelve hours--including stops--to get to Virginia from Georgia.

So, you should get there in a flash; what traffic is going to be stopping you? Well, the roads might be blocked, you guess you’ll find out. You trace a couple different routes, just in case before the annoyingly familiar groans of the undead echo across the concrete building. 

Folding the map up you sigh, “Let's get this show on the road.” You tap Baby’s hood twice before getting into the car, propping the map up against your backpack in the passenger seat.

The drive is…surprisingly nice, you popped in an old mix tape into the stereo, tapping the wheel in beat to every song. Only downside is the traffic--and people aren’t even alive, you’d think that’d be the one good thing about the apocalypse, but no! Roads are clogged with cars, some crashed and others just stopped, like everyone just disappeared. Back roads aren’t too horrible though, it’s nice seeing something alive, even if it’s just flora. 

 Nature comes a-calling around the fourth hour of the drive, pulling off at an old mom&pop looking gas station. The bell hanging from a sparkly ribbon jingles as you slowly push the door open, waiting in the entrance for anything, dead or alive. 

Nothing comes after a minute or two, so you continue in, looking around the small building; it’s in shockingly good condition. It’s pretty cleaned out, but everything is intact. Something bumps against your foot as you walk through the aisles, making you yelp. It’s just a soda can, you learn when you look down, letting out a shaky chuckle.

“Phew, we’re good,” you exhale aloud, squatting down with a groan to pick up the can. You run a hand over your bump when you stand back, smiling when she kicks against your hand.

To your dismay, the bathrooms are locked and you’d really prefer not to pop a squat in a bush. After a bit of searching, you find the key attached to a fly swatter behind the counter and finally get to do your do. 

You confiscate a bottle of hand sanitizer on your way out, slathering your hands in the liquid. As you pass the gas pump you figure it wouldn’t hurt to top off your tank, maybe fill a few cans; you just hope the damn things still have gas. 

“Moment of truth…” you mutter as you stick the nozzle into the fuel door, pulling the lever and hoping like hell. Gas starts flowing and you’re elated, bouncing between your feet as you go grab gas cans.

“On the road again, I just can’t wait to get on the road again,” you hum as you start driving again, feeling pretty good about everything.

The sun is shining, backroads are clear, gas tank is full, what isn’t there to feel good about? 

Eventually you have to get back onto the highway, but that high and mighty feeling still stays strong through the last five and a half hours of the drive--It doesn’t when you get to Atlanta. If you thought other cities were bad, then you don’t have a clue what to consider Atlanta. 

The sun had already set hours ago, so you decide it’s best to just pull over, get some sleep and try to brave the mess that once was Interstate 85. Sleep comes easy, considering; it’s a warm summer night, muggy as all hell though, but you got a good few hours before the sound of horse hooves awoke you--Horse hooves?

You sit up hastily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you look out the window to try and identify where the clopping is coming from. You get eyes on the horse and realize it’s definitely not wild, it’s got a rider.

A guy, you think, adorned with a cowboy hat and a bag of something slung over his shoulder. His head turns and you shrink into the backseat, hoping he didn’t see you. He did, if the way the horse’s footsteps seem come closer with every passing moment; maybe he’s just passing by--He’s not.  

Something metal taps against the car window (a gun, it’s a gun, oh no, he’s gonna shoot you), “Hey, I can see you in there; I don’t mean harm,” says a faint country accent. 

You have a half thought of reaching for your gun, which stupidly still lays in the front seat, you’d be dead before you grabbed it, so you can be reasonable. You tilt your head up, meet with a man wearing a sheriffs--not a cowboy, okie dokie--hat, something of a hesitant, sheepish smile revealing pearly teeth.

“I’m going to sit up, and turn around.” you inform him, raising hands in surrender as you very slowly sit up. He may’ve said he doesn’t mean harm, but you don’t want to risk any sudden movements. 

He watches tentatively and you do the same, staring at each other for a solid minute--maybe he is a cowboy, you swear this could be a scene out of an old western. His eyes rove over you, searching for weapons or you assume. A protective hand instinctively goes to your stomach, shielding your baby from his scorching glare.

“You’re pregnant?” are the next words out of his mouth; they’re quiet, almost worried, you could barely make them out through the glass. It takes you a second to answer, it’s not like you thought nobody would notice, you’re five months pregnant, but you hoped it wouldn’t be super obvious.

“No, I’m just super fat,” you retort, scowling as you roll the window down, “What'd you want, cowboy?” 

That makes him snort, shaking his head slightly, “Cowboy? Nah, my name’s Sheriff Rick Grimes, you?”

You continue scrutinizing the man, a deep frown pulling at your lips. He looks friendly enough, looks can be deceiving though. You lean into the front seat, popping open your glove compartment and grab your ID, passing it to--Rick, apparently. 

“You’re an officer too?” oh yeah, you forgot you keep your badge in your wallet. You nod slightly, snatching the wallet from his grip, deciding he’s had more than enough time with it.

“Was, an officer.” you correct, watching him just laugh at you like this is a perfectly normal interaction, water cooler chat. “In case you haven’t noticed, the world’s gone to shit, I’m not an officer anymore, you’re not a sheriff, we’re survivors, that’s it.”

“Ain’t you a ray of sunshine?” he quips, raising his hands in mock surrender as he catches sight of your unamused expression. “Well, sunshine, need a ride into the city?”

You go to say ‘no,’ but pause for a moment. A horse is probably easier, fits between cars better, quieter, it’s not a bad idea. Trusting him though? Could be. You could kill him, take the horse, but that’s a little bit much, you reckon.

“Ugh--yeah, a ride would be, huuugh, nice.” you concede, deciding if he were to kill you, it’d be a better way to go than to have your flesh torn from your skin. You wave your hand out the window, getting him to move so you open the car door.

Joints pop as you exit the car, crackling when you stretch and walk over to the passenger side to grab your bag. You tick a mental checklist as you gather your belongings--knife, in your belt, gun, on the other side of your belt, bag, over your shoulder, yep. You’ve got everything. 

The metal of the car is warm as you caress her, “I’ll be back, Baby, I promise,” is what you mumble to the car whilst you press a kiss to the roof. 

Rick’s eyebrow raises slightly, clearing not understanding the deep bond between a person and their beloved car. All he gets in return is a glare whilst you hike your bag higher onto your shoulder, shuffling over to his horse. 

“Well? Let’s go, cowboy, we’re losing daylight!” you nag, causing the sheriff to hurry over, clicking his tongue. 

“You’re impatient, anyone ever told you that?” he questions rhetorically as he pulls himself onto the horse, sticking a hand out to help you up.

Your, seemingly permanent, glower is directed at his hand, like it’s a piece of filth as you hoist yourself onto the horse. The animal nickers and starts trotting once more; instinctively your hands go to Rick’s shoulders to keep from falling off the horse.

“Sooo… What’re hoping to find in Atlanta?” Rick asks, looking over his shoulder to look at you. All you do is shrug, not wishing to speak to him--even if you did, you don’t know what you’re hoping to find.

He nods slowly at your non-answer, “I’m tryin’ find my wife, Lori, and my son, Carl,” he informs you, making you feel bad at the fact that he’s opening up.

You blame pregnancy hormones for the guilty feeling, “You having a boy or girl or do you even know?” is the next thing you register from his mouth.

You decide to answer this one, “A girl, found out the day this shit started.”  you reveal, throwing him a bone with the extra tidbit. His head bobs along with your words, trying to keep an eye both on you and the busy road.

“I always wanted a little girl. Give Carl someone to protect when he gets older, y’know?” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. How old is he--Carl, I mean.”

“‘Bout eleven; shit, by now he’s probably twelve.”

“How’d you get separated from your wife and kid?”

That makes Rick pause, and you start backtracking. It’s none of your business, you shouldn’t have asked. He snickers at your stammering, shaking his head.

“It’s ok, don’t worry; I was just trying to figure out how to word it.” he explains, scratching the back of his neck, “I got shot on duty--none of us realized there was a third guy--sent me into a coma. Next thing I knew I woke up and half the world was dead and my house was cleared out.”

You wince slightly. Damn, that must suck, you didn’t have any friends when this started, so you didn't have anyone to worry about. You couldn’t imagine being in a coma for months then waking up and the world’s ended and your family’s gone.

“Ooh, that’s shitty, man. Really. Hope you find them.” you apologize, awkwardly patting his shoulder.

“That makes two of us.” he agrees, falling into focus as you hit the city limit.

The streets are clearer in the city, apparently nobody made it into the city. You look around, tightening your grip on Rick’s shoulder in worry as you turn the corner. Suddenly the horse is bucking upwards, tossing both of you off of her. It takes a moment to realize why you’re on the floor, but the second you see the horde you're panicking.

“Rick, hey man, up! We’ve gotta go.” you yell, grabbing at his shoulder. Unlike yourself--who luckily landed on your bag--Rick got knocked on his ass, clearly winded as he only stares in horror. 

Undead start growling, getting distracted from the now dead horse, stumbling towards fresh meat. It’s cruel, but you leave. You spin, looking for somewhere to run, eyes snagging on a tank. It’s a short sprint to the military vehicle, but a vague struggle to climb up, barreling down the hatch and yanking it shut.

You can barely catch your breath before growling fills your ears, a zombie soldier crawling towards you. Before you can even try to scream, a shot rings out followed by arguably the most painful ringing noise. 

Your head whips around, finding Rick holding his ears, gun in one hand. If you could hear yourself think, you’d yell at him. What kind of idiot shoots a gun in a tank? A metal box? He could’ve blown our eardrums out! He also saved your life, so he gets a pass.

“Thanks.” you gasp when the ringing finally subsides, rubbing furiously at your temple. He presents you with a shaky thumbs up, against the opposite wall you’re leaning on. “Sorry for leaving you out there,” you whisper, peeking an eye open to look at him.

“You’re good, I would've done the same if I could’ve--no offense.” he admits, lazily waving a hand through the air. 

You chuckle, shaking your head, “Trust me, none taken.”

You’re ready to just pass out here in the tank, yet Rick still seems loaded, drawing the peek-a-boo hatch open, staring at the scene outside. He mutters something you can’t quite hear, relocking the hatch and sliding back down. 

“The weapons bag…my walkie…” are the few distraught words you manage to catch, shutting your eyes.

It’s silence between the two of you for a long stretch until the radio crackles. You think you’re hearing things since Rick didn’t seem to hear anything, but it crackles again. Rick hears it this time, nearly getting whiplash with the speed he turned his head. 

He looks at you for confirmation, to make sure he’s not crazy. He’s not, unless you’re both hearing things and going insane. You nod, wiggling over to kneel next to him in front of the radio when it crackles a third time; a voice comes through this time.

“Hey, you two. Dumbasses. Y’all in the tank. You guys cozy in there?”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Criminal Detectives Part 2

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The human’s words and observations certainly caused a stir back at police HQ. Trem and Morbin’s chief was not pleased to have had his two star detectives not only mislabel a murder as a suicide, but to have also had those determining facts shown to them by a human who had been on the scene for less than ten minutes.

With the case reclassified as a murder investigation the human government had taken control and placed Douglas Finch in charge moving forward. Their Chief had fought against such a decision, but it was standard policy that in the event of a human murder case the human government would oversee all investigations into the matter. The Mayor of the city had even called the chief to “reinforce” the new structure and told the chief that they should offer Finch every courtesy in the matter.

It was a phone call so heated officer’s two floors below could still hear the Chief’s voice shouting.  

So it was now that both the alien detectives watched their crime scene now swarmed over by a host of humans snapping pictures, collecting samples for testing, and interviewing not only the rest of the building’s occupants but reaching out to several people who frequented the outside office areas who may have saw or heard anything strange during the time of death.

Finch, the CSI human who had been dispatched, was standing in the hallway outside the murder victim’s office reading a data file when Trem and Morbin approached.

“Glad you two could find your way back so easily.” Finch remarked to the two alien detectives as they approached. He didn’t even bother to take his eyes off the data pad as he continued scrolling through its contents.

Morbin was smart enough not to rise to the bait, but Trem was less than cordial.

“We’ve served on the force for over thirteen stellar rotations!” Trem replied sharply.

“Yet you missed the file cabinet’s lock being broken open, several missing files, that the murder weapon was put into the wrong hand of the victim to fake a suicide, and thought it wasn’t odd that the victim would wait for a passing train to blow his brains out to muffle the sound.”

“We…I….you!” Trem stammered as he boiled in rage as Finch tucked away his data pad and walked past the alien detectives.

“Where are you going?” Morbin demanded. Finch didn’t even bother to turn around to answer and just shouted over his shoulder as he left the building.

“Going to see what I can dig up on my own.”

Both alien detectives looked at each other in astonishment as the human left before quickly following after them.

------------------- Three sector grids later the pair of alien detectives watched from the shadows as the human got out of his hover car. They’d been trailing him the moment he left the crime scene and despite a few instances of nearly getting caught they were sure the human wasn’t aware of them.

To his credit the human had covered their tracks surprisingly well. They’d transferred into four different hover cars during their wanderings across several different city levels until finally ending up in the industrial district. Neither Trem nor Morbin knew what the human could want here, but they were both well aware they were in the shady part of the city that had unsuspecting cops vanishing all the time.

“What’s he doing now?” Morbin asked as Trem focused on the scanner lenses.

“He just got out of his car and is walking down the street.”

Morbin was at the wheel of their hover car while Trem was next to him in the front with the scanner lenses. They could pierce through solid materials and focus on certain living organisms but only within a range of about 50-60 feet.

“I hope he gets in another car soon so we can get out of here.” Morbin kept his eyes peeled to either side of the street. “You don’t hover into the Pipelands unless you got a police battalion behind you.”

“Relax,” Trem quipped as he adjusted the scanners, “it’s not like the human is going to meet-“

Trem’s voice trailed off as he finished adjusting the scanner.

“What is it?” Morbin asked as he sat up. When Trem didn’t respond right away he upholstered his laser pistol with one hand and tightened his grip on the steering wheel with the other.

“That flesh sack,” Trem stammered, “is meeting Fnar.”

“What?!?” Morbin snatched the scanner lenses out of his partner’s hands and brought them up to his eyes. The scanners quickly cut through the building between him and their human target and sure enough he saw the outline of Finch slowly take shape; and standing over him like a looming tower was a new bio-signature that identified itself as none other than Fnar Batal, the unofficial ruler of the Pipelands.

His criminal operation spread across sixteen sector grids and he ruled them with an iron fist. Even the mayor was too scared to cross Fnar directly, but thankfully the crime lord had learned that make a big show of power tended to get his kind jailed or killed. Fnar had opted to rule through intimidation and a deaf hand to not invite a similar fate and was the oldest crime lord on the planet.

“What are they say?” Trem asked as he reached for the scanner lenses back. Morbin swatted his hand away while he kept his eyes glued to the outlines of Finch and Fnar.

Finch’s back was towards Morbin so he couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the human was making several hand gestures and Fnar seemed to be nodding. Whatever the human was saying was clearly the right words to be used. Finch’s outline then turned in Morbin’s direction and a hand came up to point directly at the alien detective.

“FRAK!” Morbin shouted as he dropped the scanner lenses and made to hit the accelerator when a pair of massive arms smashed through the driver’s window and yanked him from the hover car. The blaster in his hand was snatched away by another thug while Trem was likewise hauled from the vehicle.

“Thought coppers like you knew the Pipeland’s were off limits.” The thug holding Morbin remarked; the smugness dripping from every word as the other thugs chuckled. The thug’s grip tightened further and Morbin could hear his exoskeleton creaking under the intense pressure. He tried to speak again but his voice was little more than gasps at this point.

“Ease off lads.” A new voice cut in. ‘I just wanted to give them a bit of fright, not kill them.”

Morbin followed the voice to see Finch standing in front of the hover car pulling out a cigarette. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a match which he immediately struck off against the hood of Morbin’s car and lit up while the thugs watched on.

“We don’t take orders from you flesh sack!” The thug holding Morbin shot back.

“But you do listen to your boss,” Finch countered, flicking the burnt match at the thug dismissively, “and I don’t think he’d take kindly to you making his guest feel unwelcome.”

Finch walked over to the thug and tilted his head back a smidge to look up into their face.

“So kindly put them him and his friend down, and then piss off somewhere else.”

The thug mashed their teeth together in rage before relenting; dropping Morbin followed shortly after by Trem on the other side of the car.

“Next time we see them we gut them like sigs.” The thug spat before leaving.

Morbin and Trem grasped their throats and coughed several times as air flooded back into their lungs. When Morbin’s eyesight cleared again he saw Finch smiling down at him.

“Need a ride?”

--------------------- “What….was…that about?” Morbin gasped as he and Trem were flown out of the Pipelands by Finch in his own vehicle.

“Bit of field work.” Finch said dryly, turning to avoid an oncoming hover hauler. “I needed to get some info about the case and Fnar was the only one who could provide it.”

“What could you…”, Trem spoke up, “possibly have that Fnar wants?”

“A promise to move his incarcerated son to a max level human prison for one thing.” Finch said with a grin. “Seems he’s got a whole list of enemies that wouldn’t mind gutting the little runt in prison to get back at dear old papa, so he was all too willing to make a trade for the kids safety.”

“You deal with criminals?” Morbin spoke up; his voice returning to his stable tone. “I thought you were a human enforcer of law?”

“You spend enough time fighting crime you eventually learn that it never goes away,” Finch replied seriously, “and that having someone with their ear to the ground can be even more productive than someone behind bars.”

Morbin was astonished to hear that human could so easily rationalize dealings with criminals. The idea of allowing criminals to exist just so they could turn on other criminals was beyond his comprehension of law and order.

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you get information?” Trem asked.

Finch nodded.

“It seems Morgan Solis was very good at accounting and had noticed some irregularities with the book keeping of his company.” Finch opened up. “Large sums of money were being swept under the table and were written off as charity donations.”

“That’s nothing new.” Trem admitted, “Corporations do that all the time.”

“True, but Morgan made the mistake of tracking down who the money was being diverted to and was in the process of going public with that information.”

“And how would Fnar know all this?” Morbin inquired.

“Not too long ago a contract was floated around about a B&E job paying big credits. Fnar remembered it since it was rather light on details aside from it involving a human. He passed on the job, as did many of the other main providers, since crossing humans tends to lead to bad business; but he kept a copy of the contract and the details match up with the crime scene.”

“We’re looking for someone who is heavily invested in staying in the shadows and is not afraid to kill someone to keep themselves there.”

Morbin and Trem say in silence for a time taking in the new information they had just been given. “So,” Morbing finally spoke up as they neared the upper sectors of the city again, “what do we do now?”

“I don’t know about you,” Finch said cockily, “but I mean to find these bastards and drag them into the light myself; kicking and screaming all the way if needed.”

[skullythefriendlyskullface]

A Turtle's Guide to Escaping Midtown Precinct South

This is another entry for @tmnt-write-fight. Today I am attacking @misshowdoyoudo, who provided the following writing prompt:

Raph does something REALLY dumb and his brothers have to break him out of jail for it.

I'm going to be upfront: this fic is going to be very long and have multiple chapters. And because I'm going to be busy traveling this month, I can only work on this fic 2-3 chapters at a time. But, good news, I've updated this. It's now at 5 chapters and it's about 60 percent of the way done! The next update will likely be on September 21.

Words: 12,520 (so far)

Rating: Teen

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Police Brutality, Tasers, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Plot, Plot Twists

Iteration: 2003 (during season 3)

You can also check out the fic here on AO3!

Enjoy!

//

The first step to breaking out of Midtown Precinct South is to not get caught in the first place. Your best bet of getting out of jail in one piece is to stay out of it completely.

Leo hiked up the collar of his jacket, hoping to keep the freezing rain off the back of his neck. The sleet pelted his head and shoulders relentlessly. Worse, it congealed on the sidewalk, forming large patches of black ice. He had to tread carefully to make sure he didn’t slip and fall on his way to the subway station.

“Remind me why we’re not taking the Battle Shell to April’s place?” Mikey whined.

“Because someone,” Don said, shooting him a nasty glare, “got the transmission stuck in reverse.”

“I told you, it was like that before I got behind the wheel!”

“Oh, sure, Mikey. The gear shifter just magically broke on its own,” Raph said, his biting sarcasm exacerbated by the miserable weather.

“Will you all quiet down?” Leo chided. “We need to keep a low profile, remember? We’re already exposed as it is.”

The persistent sleet had made it too dangerous to go rooftop hopping; the last thing they needed was for one of them to slip on some ice and plummet several hundred feet onto concrete below. And the icy conditions had sealed shut many of the manholes in Manhattan. With the Battle Shell out of commission, the only way to get to April’s apartment now was through the subway system.

They finally reached a station and carefully climbed down the steps. The brick walls did little to keep the cold out, but at least it sheltered them from the wind and rain. As they approached the bottom of the stairs, Leo could feel his heart drum heavily in his chest. At ten in the morning on a Tuesday, foot traffic was relatively sparse, but they still ran the risk of some curious human discovering that they were giant mutant turtles. And on top of that, the station offered little in terms of escape routes if they needed to make a break for it.

“Keep your heads on a swivel,” Leo muttered quietly to his brothers. He surveyed the surroundings and mentally took note of the people closest to them: a couple holding hands, a college student, a mother trying to herd two rambunctious kids. When he scanned the area past the turnstiles, he frowned. Two police officers leaned against the wall on the other side, acting nonchalant and talking to each other in low voices. Their eyes, however, carefully followed commuters as they pushed past the ticket turnstiles.

“Don, you got the MetroCard, right?” Leo asked, keeping his eyes on the cops.

In response, Don reached into his jacket and pulled out a flimsy yellow card. “Right here,” he said. He swiped the card at the turnstile, pushed through, and handed it to Mikey.

It took him swiping twice for the scanner to properly read the card, but at last, Mikey joined Don on the other side. “Your turn!” he said, passing the MetroCard to Leo.

Leo swiped the card and heard the click of gears shifting as the arms of the turnstile unlocked. He pushed through and handed the card to Raph.

Raph swiped the card and tried to push through the turnstile, but the arms remained locked in place. He tried again, only to achieve the same results. “Hold on,” he said. He cupped his hands around the dusty screen on the side of the turnstile and peered at it. “Out of funds.”

“Are you sure?” Don said. “I thought I put enough money on it last time.”

“Yeah? Apparently, you didn’t,” Raph said flatly.

“It’s fine, we’ll just put some more money on it now,” Leo said, already rummaging through his pockets. “I think I have a ten in here somewhere…” He ran his fingers across every fold in his clothing, only to come up empty handed.

“I don’t have any cash,” Don said with a shrug. He turned to Mikey. “You?”

“Nada,” he answered. The three of them turned to Raph and looked at him expectantly.

“Well, this is just great,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Turtle luck, runnin’ true to form.”

“Hold on, we’ll think of something,” Leo said. But if he was being honest, he was coming up short on ideas.

“Screw it,” Raph said. “Do me a favor and take a step back, Leo.”

“Why do I need to…” Leo started. He watched Raph step back a few paces, then the realization hit him: his brother was going to jump over the turnstile. Nearby, the pair of police officers watched in silence. Raph had no idea that they were there – or maybe he didn’t care. “Wait a minute, don’t –”

It would have been bad enough if Raph had gotten caught fare evading, but what happened next was far worse. As he made his leap, a corner of his jacket snagged on one of the arms of the turnstile. It yanked him backwards, and the sudden change in momentum caused part of the jacket to tear with a loud ripping sound. Raph landed on his stomach, groaning as he crashed into the floor. With half of his jacket torn, part of his shell was now exposed.

The police officers barreled towards them. “Hey! Stop right there!” one of them boomed.

“Shit,” Leo muttered. They needed to get out of there. He reached down and grabbed one of Raph’s arms. “Get up!”

The cops were growing closer by the second. Leo let go of Raph and balled his hands into fists, ready to throw punches if the situation escalated. Then two pairs of arms wrapped around his torso and dragged him out of the way.

“Hey! What –?” Leo was baffled to find Don and Mikey pulling him away from Raph.

“Low profile, remember?” Mikey said. The usual humor and lightness in his voice was gone, and his eyes were wide with fear.

Leo shot a glance back at Raph. His brother had a defiant look on his face, one that silently told him to run, that he would catch up with them later. Then he jumped to his feet and clocked the first cop that reached him squarely on the jaw. The second one dodged his punch and got close enough to press a flashlight-looking object against his chest. A buzzing sound came from it and Raph seized up, screaming in agony as he dropped to the floor.

“Raph! No!” Leo yelled.

One of the police officers knelt over Raph’s listless body, pulling his arms behind his back to handcuff him. The other one spoke into a handheld radio that was clipped onto his ballistic vest at the shoulder. Then he turned to find Leo, Don, and Mikey still standing nearby, and he marched towards them. “NYPD, I’m gonna need you to come with me,” he said, flashing a badge.

The pressing danger was enough to break Leo out of his shock. As much as he didn’t want to throw Raph to the wolves, he couldn’t let the police arrest Don and Mikey as well. He gripped his brothers by the sleeves of their jackets. “Run!” he said as he tore down the subway station.

The three of them weaved between the small crowd, sprinting as fast as they could. The police officer followed close behind, futilely commanding them to stop. “Do we take the F line southbound?” Don asked, shouting above the din of the crowd.

That would take them closer to the lair. Leo’s mind raced as fast as his legs did. “No,” he said. “We’re taking the A line north. This way!”

They dashed across the platform, heading straight for the tracks that the A line ran on. The subway had already pulled up to the station, and the doors were slowly closing. With all the energy and strength he could muster, Leo pushed his brothers into the closest subway car and squeezed between the shrinking gap. The police officer slammed against the closed doors a few seconds later.

Catching his breath, Leo glared defiantly at the cop through the windows as the subway pulled away from the station. The police officer stared back at him with an even gaze, then turned his head to speak into his radio. There was no doubt that he was calling for reinforcements at every stop on the A line. Traveling through the subways without getting caught by humans was going to be a lot harder now.

Leo clenched his jaw to keep himself from screaming in frustration. How could Raph be so stupid? How could Don and Mikey just abandon him? And most importantly, how could he let this all happen? If he had just gotten to Raph faster, then all four of them could have escaped together. If he had quickly found a way to pay the fare, then his brother wouldn’t have tried to jump over the turnstile. Or better yet, if he had just double checked to make sure they had enough funds on their MetroCard in the first place, then the whole disaster could have been averted.

He could feel his emotions coming to a boil. Thankfully, there were only a few other passengers on the subway, and none of them seemed particularly interested in the crisis that he was having. Still, Leo needed to keep himself under control. He sat down on one of the empty benches, held his head between his hands and angrily blinked back the tears that threated to well up in his eyes.

Don took the seat next to him and rested a comforting hand on his back. Mikey sat down on the bench across from them. “What do we do now?” he asked helplessly.

Right. At the end of the day, he was still their leader, and he needed to come up with a way to undo the mess they had gotten in. Leo took in a deep breath to clear his mind and silently began brainstorming ideas. “We’re gonna head straight to April’s apartment,” he said. “Each station will be crawling with cops, so we may have to jump off between 72nd and 81st street. Maybe even earlier if they board the subway. Either way, we’ll need April’s help to spring Raph out of whatever precinct they’ll hold him in – her and Casey.”

Don stared at him, as if trying to study his features through the shades and layers of clothing that he had on. “So, you already have a plan?” he asked.

Leo shrugged. “A half-baked one,” he admitted. “Which is better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Why not take the time to come up with something better?” Mikey said. “I mean, it’s not like Raph’s going anywhere. And New York prisons can’t be any worse than the Triceraton ones we’ve been through, right?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Leo said. “Sure, we were fugitives on the Triceraton homeworld, but they had no problems with us being giant turtles. The humans, on the other hand, just witnessed an alien invasion only a few months ago. The NYPD will probably assume that Raph is a Triceraton and get excessively rough with him. Or worse…”

“…The EPF will get wind of this,” Don said, eyes widening with realization. “And then Bishop will take him off the police’s hands.”

Uneasy silence hung in the air. “How much time do you think we’ll have before that happens?” Mikey finally asked.

“If we’re lucky?” Leo said. “Ten hours, maybe nine.”

Mikey and Don exchanged glances. Despite not saying a word, Leo could tell that they were thinking about how bad their luck had been of late. “And if we’re unlucky?” Don asked. Leo gave the question some thought. “Four,” he answered.

Next

[sicknessbysalem]

tw for emeto, panic attack, fever

a little more vanessa and willow, just a little fic showing a little more of Vanessa’s backstory (not a whole lot) and the domesticness of vanessa and willow

feel free to send requests for these two/general requests!! if you want to see more!!

First it was 10:00pm. Willow said she would be off at 9:30 and therefore, should be home by 10.

Then it was 10:30pm. Willow got caught up in a last minute patient and had paperwork to finish about it.

Then it was 11:00pm. The paperwork went longer, the family had given Willow countless issues.

But now it’s midnight, and Willow isn’t here.

Vanessa knows she’s both a nursing student and an adult. Willow can come home whenever she wants.

By one in the morning, Vanessa is pacing the downstairs. The kitchen, the living room, the eating area. She would pace, try to force herself to sit, only to start again.

Her body is tingling. Shaking her hands, her arms, even her feet, isn’t helping. The tingling stays, if not gets worse.

She’d texted Willow frequently. Every 15 minutes, or thirty.

But what if Willow was driving home and saw Vanessa’s texts?

The thought made Vanessa panic. Years of serving as a cop, many more of watching the news, she knew how frequently people wrecked from texting and driving. Vanessa couldn’t handle that.

She already felt responsible for what happened before. With her mom, on the other side of the country. The whole reason she packed up, moved, and quit serving as an officer.

She couldn’t be responsible for Willow too…

Vanessa started biting her nails, she stopped texting. Pacing, shaking hands, nail biting. She couldn’t breathe.

She went toward the stairs. Maybe she could get her scanner, maybe she could listen and see if someone had been in a wreck or something.

No, Vanessa thought, that would terrify her more.

Her chest hurt. Her breathing was shaking. Her whole body felt like live wires were running through it. Her stomach… god, her stomach was starting to feel bad too…

She found herself in the kitchen. The room seemed so much smaller, closing in on her. Vanessa braced herself against the counter by sink.

It’s 2:15. Vanessa can barely make it out on the clock. Willow isn’t here.

In her distress, Vanessa heaved over the thankfully empty sink. She was grateful to herself, her earlier self, for washing them.

God her stomach felt really upset… and her vison was blurred with tears.

Vanessa’s breath caught in her throat, a strange mix of hyperventilating and the occasional dry heave, leaving her to anxiously white-knuckle the counter. The hyperventilating, the heaving, the anxious thoughts. All of it.

Vanessa was in tears, a choked scream coming through clenched teeth as everything continued to spiral.

And suddenly, there’s a hand brushing Vanessa’s hair, gentle hushing, and a hand carefully wiping away some tears.

“Ness,” Its Willow. Finally. “Nessie, what happened?”

Vanessa can’t speak. But, a shaking hand releases the counter, reaching for Willow. Willow’s hand, her shoulder, something, anything…

Willow pulls Vanessa into a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in her body.

"It's okay, Nessie. I'm here," Willow murmurs soothingly.

Vanessa clings to her, chest heaving with each shaky breath.

“Gosh, you’re hot,” Willow said. Which, was true, Vanessa did seem awfully warm, even by panic attack standards. But part of it was just to see how far gone into panic Vanessa was.

Vanessa doesn’t say anything, just tugs at the neckline of her t-shirt.

“Okay, here… let’s do this,” Willow said, leading Vanessa to the side door, where the small porch on the side of the house was.

It was an odd placement, and quite small. But there were two chairs out there. The air was chilly, Willow knew the cold would possibly shock Vanessa back into stability.

Willow guides her to sit on a chair, her touch a steady anchor in the storm of Vanessa's panic.

As Vanessa struggles to find words, Willow keeps her focus on providing comfort. She gently strokes Vanessa's back, a calming rhythm that matches the rise and fall of her uneven breaths.

“Inhale with me, Ness. Deep breaths. You're safe here."

Vanessa follows Willow's lead, gradually syncing her breaths with the gentle cadence Willow sets. The tingling in her body begins to subside, replaced by a sense of grounding.

Willow watches, subtly checking Vanessa’s pulse rate and basic vitals as Vanessa calms. Willow observes Vanessa, looking for any clues as to how Vanessa is feeling.

The porch light shows that Vanessa’s face is flushed, more so than Willow is used to seeing for most panic attacks. Vanessa’s hair is in a ponytail, she’s in a shirt from her former police department and comfortable shorts. The wrinkle of the shirt alone tells Willow that Vanessa has been in that outfit since she got home. Vanessa was either going to go for a run, or was hot.

As Vanessa calms, behind the flush she seems pale. Paler than usual. Willow brushes a few tears off Vanessa’s face with her thumbs and sees a startling difference in their skin tones.

Vanessa has always been a little darker than Willow.

“My dad, he was Italian and Latino I think,” Vanessa had said one time while she was cooking dinner for herself and Willow.

But now, Vanessa seems the same shade as… well, the relatively violently red-headed, Irish Willow. Pale, much paler than she should be. Vanessa’s strawberry blonde hair washes her out.

“I’m sorry…”

It’s the first words, and only words, out of Vanessa’s mouth.

“It’s okay,” Willow said, “How are you holding up..?”

Vanessa looks at her, regret and self disappointment painting her features.

“I… I’m sorry…”

Willow sighs, pulling the other chair over to sit in front of Vanessa.

Vanessa is looking down now. At the ground, a hand over her stomach, her body rigid again.

But, Willow can tell, it’s not a panicked rigid.

Willow places a careful hand over Vanessa’s hand on her stomach, her other hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. Vanessa’s stomach feels bloated.

“Hey, deep breaths,” Willow said, confused by the escalation. At least, momentarily.

Vanessa wipes her face with her hand, she mumbles something but Willow doesn’t catch it. Theres a strange growling noise.

“What was that..?” Willow tilted her head.

“I’m… I’m going to throw up.”

“Yeah, that’s normal to feel after a-“

Vanessa nudges Willow back, standing up and going to the railing, immediately heaving into the grass.

One gag, just spit. Another, Vanessa feels her stomach seem to move to her throat, and whatever she heaves up burns. A third gag turns into a full retch, and a torrent of vomit splatters into the grass.

Vanessa gags again, heaving up an even thicker stream of vomit over the railing. Willow stands beside her, rubbing her back and keeping Vanessa’s hair out of her face. Vanessa is hot, and sweating, and something tells Willow this is definitely more than a panic attack.

Vanessa heaves again, more vomit. Each wave comes up thicker than the last. For a moment, they stop producing anything. But then, Vanessa leans into the railing, pressing her abdomen into the wood, and the thickest wave of vomit pours out of her like someone dumping a bucket of water.

Vanessa gasps, but the heaving breaths turn into genuine heaving, and by Willow’s timing it takes almost forty minutes of abundant vomiting, each heave becoming more violent the less there is coming up, before Vanessa is left gasping, pressing her forehead to the rail to try and catch her breath.

“Got it all out?” Willow questions.

Vanessa nods hesitantly, coughing a few times and spitting, but it’s nothing more than to try and get the terrible taste out of her mouth. She feels like theres more, but it could just be everything else.

“Okay, come on…” Willow said.

Carefully, she leads Vanessa into the house, into her room.

Willow goes to grab Vanessa’s trash can, but Vanessa stops her.

“It’s already over here…” Vanessa said. And sure enough, on the side of the bed where Vanessa usually sleeps, theres the trash can.

“You get nauseous a lot,” Willow said, “Have you thought about-“

“Seeing someone?” Vanessa asked, “I did before I moved here. The doctor said it was stress related, but everything else looked good.”

“Hm, interesting,” Willow said, “I’ll be right back.”

Willow stepped out, went to their shared bathroom, and came back with a thermometer.

“I know you just threw up but can we please check?” Willow asked “You seem warmer than usual. Even by panic attack standards…”

Vanessa nodded, grabbing the thermometer and putting it under her tongue.

The feeling made her want to gag, she anxiously rubbed her hand against her pants. The second it beeped, she handed it to Willow before lunging for the trash can, heaving and having more abundant waves of vomit.

“Oh, god…” Willow was shocked, but quickly dashed to grab the one from the bathroom.

As she came back, the trashcan on Vanessa’s floor was nearly full.

“Here, here..” Willow said, guiding Vanessa to the other trash can.

The security officer almost filled that one too, before the vomiting subsided.

“Wills… I… I don’t know what’s wrong…” Vanessa mumbled, “I never feel this sick…. From that…”

“You’ve had panic attacks before..? You know what we can talk about it later,” Willow said, “You have a fever. If I had to guess, that’s why your panic was so bad. And why you threw up so much… Ness, are you sick?”

Vanessa moaned, her stomach cramping.

“I don’t know… I mean I was hot coming home,” Vanessa said, before resting her face in one of her hands, the other holding her stomach that was starting to feel even sicker, “Can we just… do this later..? I feel like if I talk too much more… I’m going to throw up again…”

“Yeah,” Willow said, sitting beside Vanessa, rubbing her shoulder, “And I’ll stay right here until you want to talk… or if you need to throw up again.”

[currymanganese]

Here's another Sydcarmy song guys, 'Ajai Finale', it's used in Season 1 Episode 2 when Syd approaches Carmy with a business plan and COGS breakdown for revitalizing The Beef, which he brushes off initially. The spoken word intro of the song is not included in the episode, but it mentions a minor domestic dispute between the song's clothing obsessed protagonist (Carmy and his denim collection ring a bell anyone?) and his WIFE:

The full lyrics to the song are below, but the line that stood out to me most was,

"At my wife's business meeting and I'm showing them rap..." which plays as Syd enters the office with the COGS....

So.......This could just be me, but the next time the showrunners say Syd and Carmy are meant to be platonic I will just laugh and go about my day! 🥴

Lyrics from here:

[Intro Serengeti]

So at the Black Caucus Dinner, Dr. Mitchell is talking to Ajai about the reduction of drug costs, making it mandatory for federally qualified health centers to accept Medicaid

And then Ajai opens his phone and shows him the Doernbecher 8s,  and asks him, "Have you ever won a shoe lottery?"

Looks to his left and talks to Dr. MacKenzie also and asks him, has he ever won a shoe lottery?

Pro-shoppers guided by a website, Ajai is crazy to his wife. She knows that once a special ringer buzzes, Ajai is off. She knows there's no work emergency. She looks in the trunk in hope that the bags won't be there or a cedar closet in the basement

He holds up the entire line in security. Sprawls out his gown, and it won't fit inside the TSA body scanner. His wife, who's already at the gate, texts him his flight has left. She's furious, she's holding back tears. He texts "wa-wha-ha-jaaa-ha, did we put the extension poncho hanger in your bag or mine?"

Frustrated wife, kicking and banging on the master bathroom door, "Ajai, please honey, we're gonna be late, we're gonna miss the flight, you look fine, you look fine Ajai, you look fine, you look fine Ajai." "Uhhu," Ajai muffled through the bathroom door, "We have plenty of time, you don't need two hours for a domestic flight. Oh, who the heck is flying to Cleveland anyway?" Wife sighs, "He's such a weirdo." Twenty minutes later Ajai exits. "Oh sorry babe, I couldn't find my gloves. Uh, are you ready to go? Why are you crying?"

[Verse: Serengeti]

But I should be good

I see the Benetton green

They've been gone for minute

This collab is a dream

Grey Poupon had a thing

Eating meals in a car

It made you feel a certain way

When you held that jar

That's what I can achieve

I feel the same about drops

I feel a bit rare in the shoes and the watch

Or those Preston socks

Or that just don hat

At my wife's business meeting and I'm showing them rap

Question, "you seen this?"

Question, "you seen that?"

Cuz there's questions 'bout the culture that just ain't facts

Some people are cows and they sit and they graze

I'm like a hummingbird cause I'm simply amazed

We're all on earth just bidding our time

Some people like to read, some people like wine

Some people like both

I love my wife and my coat

Balenciaga trench angled words and my tote

I like to move to the rhythm cause I'm feeling engaged

If I chose a colorway, it'd be purple and sage

I like to chill on the yacht, talk to the people at drops

About the top ten cops they surprised that they got

Cause I got a spot

Number one on the list

It had to be the Abloh Five I thought that I missed

Cause I had alarms set

When I woke it was dead

That's the last time I sleep with my phone in my bed

So when I awoke, I put my hand in my fist

And I looked in the mirror, and said "you can do this"

In all of my years, I never wore those shoes

The Abloh 1s that had me confused

Cause I bought them online, but they never came

Store-side mix up and the address changed

And it wasn't my fault, and they settled me straight

Just a half size bigger; whoever got them felt great

And I think about that

If one day at the door

A delivery came and the Abloh 4

That I didn't expect

What the hell would I do?

Who even knows if

They knew the scope of the shoe?

So today I wore those

And take them outside

First time they hit the ground

So now they alive

And now I'm near the spot

6 blocks away

It's already gettin' a little crowded hours passed on drop day

I said to myself

"The fives will be mine"

Ones so bright

People sayin' they blind

I relaxed and I stop to get tea

Fella says "Yo, it's me"

[tea-potato-gt]

The Last leg of the book! We made it!

More more more memes and reactions for @marydublinauthor and @kendsleyauthor on their book “Shot in the Dark!”

Part 1 here / Part 2 here / Part 3 here / Predictions / Pirates AU

*spoilers ahead*

——————————————

Chapter 29

Jon: “We’re coming with you. We’ll see this through to the end.” (Alt: “You can’t get rid of [us] Bitch! [We’re] not going nowhere! [We’re] not going no-fuckin’-where!”)

Sylvia: “Why would you do that?”

Cliff: “After everything, you really expect us to dump you on the side of the road and keep driving?… We’re not gonna let you die.”

Chapter 30

“Loss was bitter, but falling for him was painless.”

Chapter 31

Damian: “Don’t feel too bad for Ayden. He’s the one who put the mark on Sylvia’s face.” Jon for a split second: 👀

When Melanie punched Lireal in the face: (It was personal.)

Jon: “A beast in my chest purred possessivley. Mine.” Me reading this:

Also me if a REAL man said/thought this about me

Chapter 32

Damian at Sylvia when he realizes she wants to be with Jon:

Chapter 33

*Police scanner says the cops are after Jon and Cliff and they need to leave immediately.* Me:

Cliff and Sylvia’s future matching T-shirts👕👚🔪🧚🏼‍♀️

Jon: "I wish I could kiss you." 🥲🙄 Me @ Jon: You can kiss her, no humanizing required! Pucker up those fat lips and full face smack her! It's not that hard! I don't care she's only a few inches tall! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨Kiss. 🧚🏼‍♀️Her. 🫵You. 😤COWARD!!!😡🤬😠

Thank you for coming to my ted talk 😤😤😤 😇

Hazel

The way I was not emotionally, mentally, or physically ready for this twist… 👁️👄👁️😐😑😐🫨

*Me when something large comes out of the woods towards Hazel and her Mom:*

(I will say, my first thought was this man is Sylvia's father who got yassified into a human 🤔🫡😵🫨)

——————————

Bonus:

Cliff and Sylvia’s relationship progression through out the story:

————————————

Thank you so much for reading! 😭😁🥰

I have one last post about predictions for the next book and then I’m done! … for now. 😈🫣

[reogan]

Jenny From Thebes Song Perspectives

John Darnielle has gifted us a beautiful album of deliberately unclear timelines and events. I'm working on parsing things out and putting it into words, and I want to start this project off with an overview of when songs from the album take place and who's the narrative voice, if any. I'm including the subtitles from the vinyl edition in italic parenthetical. This is a personal project, but if you're interested in following, it'll all be tagged Jenny Timeline, even if it's actually not about the timeline. These get long, but they are not my intended forthcoming actual song-by-song analysis, so things like the meaning of the seventh shield will not be here.

Clean Slate (New arrival at the safehouse): Lays out the status quo at what is, to us, the start of Jenny's story. She has the Color in Your Cheeks (All Hail West Texas) house, where people of any stripe can shelter.

2. Ground Floor (There was, en route to greener pastures, a small house in the city): This was originally called "SW Ranch" which confirms that the Color in Your Cheeks house is Jenny's west-facing southwestern ranch-style house (Jenny, AHWT). It seems to me to just be a description of the house and the vibes in the same way that Clean Slate is about the general purpose and process of the safehouse. Also the status quo at the start.

3. Only One Way (They consider one another in the often harsh light of how the world is): I don't like that I'm saying this, but I think the "they" of the subtitle is still just the general "they" who came in by the dozen, walking or crawling (Color in Your Cheeks, AHWT). There's a communal introspection of mortality. I don't want the Lodger to be here yet because they're introduced in the next song. Except...the timeline is screwy, as we'll see. So maybe.

I do think that she's gotten, if not official notice, warning signs about the coming eviction (maybe rezoning campaign by the city council, maybe increasing attention from authorities). There's no place to hide from what that prophesies. Because of this, I think the perspective is that of a lodger, and maybe the Lodger, warning Jenny to watch out. If it's just a lodger, this is pre-bike and pre-murder. If it's the Lodger, it's because the cops are closing in more than the coming eviction.

4. Fresh Tattoo (She commemorates her present station on her forearm): This is, pretty plainly I think, where Jenny meets and begins to shelter the Lodger, her foil in this album. Because of my reading of Same As Cash and From the Nebraska Plant, this is post-18th Street, post-murder, as Jenny picks them up on the bike. John Darnielle says "This will be her last lodger, and it's her first tattoo, and the day will prove to be decisive in her story." Picking up this person (John uses the masculine pronoun) isn't probably a big deal in itself, so the day being the murder day matters.

5. Cleaning Crew (The next best thing to an actual goodbye): Hey, Jenny and the Lodger just met, so let's separate them forever. I am Not Sure who the perspective is, but I want it to be Jenny. She's in the doorway, helmet in her arm, time short. Instead of a goodbye, she asks the Lodger what their plan is--it's better if you have one.

If Jenny is the narrator, describing the Lodger, who is on the couch for three weeks (Fresh Tattoo) as being passed out on the sofa with Naltrexone in his veins makes sense. She might be concerned about the scanner at the airport because she's going to ground (and thus riding off on the Kawasaki). I don't know how she relates to Portland. Is that in her mythos?

6. Murder at the 18th St. Garage (Behold, you may not rezone my house): One of the most Darnielle subtitles, tbh. Jenny is the narrator of this, and she's got her Civic sedan (Same as Cash) in the garage. She kills the mayor, as John says in an interview somewhere. Easy.

7. From the Nebraska Plant (The future, seen from a hard place): In terms of real events, I think this is the last song chronologically. The Lodger looks back on meeting Jenny, who already had her bike on that day ("I recall the curb" refers to their meeting, "Still, you handed me your helmet" means she had the bike). The Lodger is on hard times again and dreams of Jenny returning, but the bike is gone and so is she from their life.

8. Same as Cash (She trades in her old car and buys a Kawasaki GPz750 Turbo): I don't hold a driver's license and I don't care for noise. I want this bike. This is directly after the Murder at the 18th St. Garage. Jenny has done the initial cleanup and needs more supplies and she's sitting in her Civic sedan freaking out. With a little pressure in the right place, she trades it in for (William Staniforth Donahue's?) her Kawasaki and rides it home, meeting the Lodger (Fresh Tattoo), who narrates this.

9: Water Tower (She disposes of the body): I don't know where this fits into the exact timeline. It's after the Murder at the 18th St. Garage and is probably before Fresh Tattoo, but it's the same day, I'm sure. Or, at least, starts there. I've got thoughts, but no answers.

10. Jenny III (The future, seen with great clarity): I don't think this song is real. like Jenny (AHWT) and Great Pirates, this is a fantasy. It might actually be the fantasy of the song Jenny. Which is heartbreaking. Narrator is the Lodger.

11. Going to Dallas (As far as anyone's concerned): Jenny narrates. This is the End of any concrete knowledge of her. May God go with her and forgive her.

12. Great Pirates (The future they both deserve): A confirmed fantasy. May we all be healed.

[abbythewritor]

"Specimen." Connor x Venom reader. *2*

Description: Y/n, a girl who's been alone her whole life, decides to change when an alien from the sky corrupts her body. Learning to cope with the symbiote named Venom, the two figure out a way to help put an end to disgusting humans who pick on the weak. But what happens when a certain Android detective is on her tail as if he was attracted to her all this time?

Warnings: Drama, blood, violence, stuff from the game, you know, the usual from Detroit become human.

Other things:

-I do not own Detroit Become Human; they belong to the owners and creators of the game.

-We will be following both Markus and Connors's side because the reader is with the deviants, while Connor, you know, does his cop duties, lol.

-Y/n is a human girl who is then corrupted by Venom; if you don't know who Venom is, then I recommend watching the movie about him, then that will sum it up for you.

Enjoy the second chapter, everyone. :)

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"You just don't know when to fucking quit do ya?" It was early morning the next day, and Hank was not having it at all.

Connor showed up same time he did, as both of them were now in the elevator going to the third floor. "Sorry, lieutenant," Connor spoke, turning to him. "I have to work with you until I accomplish my mission." Hank let out a growl. "Just don't get in my way, so we won't have problems. I hate working with other people, let alone a fucking android." Connor stood there for a second, an awkward silence arising as the elevator rose.

Breaking the Silence, Connor got out a notebook containing peak information on previous cases or current cases they have gone through. "I've been digging into the crime scene photos of Ortiz's house, especially the attic when that woman took the deviant." One of Hanks's eyebrows rose. "Ok, and? Our men found no traces of her up there; what will you get out of some crime-scene photo. And to be clear, how do we know she's even a girl? It could be a guy." Connor went silent for a moment. "She couldn't have been a male, my scanners scan her body, and it's in a shape of a 21-22-year-old woman." Hanks's eyes widened slightly. "A girl in her early twenties, escaping with the deviant and knowing the ropes of fucking up crime scenes at that young age, something tells me that she's been doing this for a long time, even before she turned an adult." Connor nodded. "Correct, either she had some help taking the deviant, or this was planned before the police even found out, maybe weeks prior." Hank put his hand to his beard, thinking of different solutions. "Do ya think she had her eye on this Android before the murder?" Connor went silent briefly before scanning multiple scenarios, some matching, some not.

"That could be a possibility; past cases state that deviants have been saving other 'deviants' like they turned into superheroes or are known as guardian angels." Hank got weird chills down his spine. "Shit...so androids believe in God, lord help this fucking world..." He then sighed. "Ok...so what about the girl? Is she a guardian Angel, A Superhero, or even human?" Glancing back at the photo, Connor blinked, looking at the traces of Venom that you purposely left behind. "She is definitely a human, no doubt about that, but the traces of slime I found on the photo doesn't seem to be 'human.'" Hank chuckled, getting a nervous feeling. "So she's possessed? That ain't the creepiest shit I ever seen." "She is not possessed, lieutenant. If she were to be possessed, her eyes would have gone all black or white; her eyes were completely normal. You saw her when she escaped; she just disappeared. I saw black slime come out of her back, she was definitely Human, but the thing inside her was not. It could be a SuperPower, an alien, or a disease that she uses to help her save the deviants; my scanner has run up many hypotheses and theories, all so different. This human deviant could block my shots and teleport away from the house easily; it tells us she's more dangerous than she really is. we better be careful when furthering into this investigation." Hank was silent before nodding as the elevator door dinged at their destination.

"Yeah...and hopefully, this time, our deviant gets taken away-" "Hello, detective." He and Connor paused, looking at an unfamiliar girl wearing a fancy work suit. Her hair was H/c, tied up into a simple yet low ponytail. Her eyes were a beautiful E/c, while her height was just standing at Y/H. (Your height.) Files grasped your hands as your right hand pushed up your glasses, a beautiful smile plastering your lips. Connor was trying to scan you, but the files he read were unknown, with no background or family; it just shows that you're working for the FBI.Confused, Hank walked closer, Connor soon following behind. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Smiling, you stepped closer. "My name is Y/n, L'n's, and I am from the FBI." Hank's eyes widened when you showed him your badge. "So the FBI is on our backs? Christ, can this day get any fucking worse? Why would the Feds send you here, to a police department?" You hugged the files closer and followed the two toward the lieutenant's desk. "I assure you, lieutenant, I am not fond of this either, but you and I know deviants rule the streets and must be stopped. That is why I am here. The streets are filled with crime and unidentified androids, which can get more dangerous in town areas. Especially when the deviant savior is roaming the streets." Connor raised an eyebrow to you. "Deviant Savior?" You looked at him, finally getting a good look at the RK 800, as the thoughts you thought about him earlier were defiantly not wrong.

Kamski knew what he was doing when he designed the androids, and he spent extra care and time on this one.

Feeling like you were staring and gushing at him for too long, you shook your thoughts before smiling again. "Connor, right? You're the deviant sent by cyber life?" He nodded. "Yes, and I believe we're unaware of your presence, Agent L/n's." You chuckled, waving his comment off. "Please, call me Y/n; I hate the 'Agent' stuff; unsurprisingly, Fowler didn't tell you; it was a last-minute decision. If I needed to hunt down the deviants and the Deviant savior, he told me you two were the best on the field." "Yeah, well, about that..." Hank let out an annoyed sigh, his eyes glaring up to you. "If you want to start today, it will be a bit before we can catch another deviant; the one we tried to capture yesterday escaped; maybe with the Deviant Savior, your little mouth's been yappin' about."'Confused,' one of your eyebrows rose while looking behind, your thumb pointing to the back where the interrogation room would be. "You mean that deviant?" Confused, Hank looked that way to see the subject sitting there, pacing back and forth. His eyes widened, as of Connors. "Y-Yeah..." Hank mumbled, thinking he saw things, as his hands rubbed his eyes, only to see the deviant still there. "Shit...I need a vacation...ok Agent, if you are so smart, how did it get here? It teleported away from us, so there's no way he would have just walked right in here. I bet it was fucking Gavin, that stupid piece of the prick of an asshole-" "Oh, Detective Reed didn't bring him in; I did. " He turned to you, soon crossing his arms with a slight chuckle.

"You? You brought him in?" His question had you nodding, the stupid smile still plastered to your face. "I found him in an alleyway, all bloodied and beaten up. He looked rather suspicious, and when he tried to run away, I knew he was a deviant, which made me want to take him in. So, it's exactly what I did. I'm sorry to concern you, Lieutenant, I was just trying to do my Job-" "Well, next time you try to do your job, leave the 'finding deviants' to the fucking professionals, got it? You can't just walk in here, high and mighty because of your FBI, and fuck up the investigation. I'm in charge, and you will not do this again, right?" Silent momentarily, you glared at him momentarily before he turned and walked away. Connor was just silent as he turned to you. "Can you tell me more about the Deviant Savior? What does it look like? What are its intentions?" With a sigh, you turned to him while setting the files down. "You are a curious one, aren't ya? Well, I guess you could know, but it would have to be an explanation for later, let's just say, about the Deviant Savior, think of her as a Guardian Angel, but for Androids, because that's how they view her. I'm guessing bt the questions you asked me you've met her before, right?" He nodded. "Yes, we saw a female figure with the deviant you brought in. She was wearing all black and red, covering her head with a cloak. She blocked my attacks before I could get to them and teleported away. It was like she was inhuman like she wasn't a regular Woman."

"Well, that's some good thinking, Connor; saying that a Woman blocked your attacks easily seems normal, but teleporting away, just seems absurd. It's the same description everyone has been describing her, teleporting away, black goop coming from her back, heck, some even rumored that she kills her own kind." Connors' eyes widened slightly. "You mean she has killed other humans?" "Seems crazy, right? But, I'd think to know this Deviant Savior defeats all kinds, Androids or humans; it's just a matter of who's picking on the weak." "I see.." Connor looked down slightly, taking in on what you just said. "So, she could be on her own side, a Savior to all...I will investigate her further; thank you for the information, Detective. It will not go to waste." Smiling, you patted his shoulder. "Your welcome, Connor, and please, just call me Y/n; I hate the formalities-"

"Connor!" Both of you turned, seeing Hank with a new cup of coffee; he motioned Connor to follow as he turned back to you. "Will you be interrogating this Deviant with us?" "You smiled more. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, you should go before your partner drags you out." He nodded to your question. "Indeed, I'll see you later....de-I mean, Y/n." Watching him turn, he headed towards Hank, who threw a file into the hands of the androids. "What did she discuss with you? nothing threatening, I hope." Connor looked back as you were checking messages on your phone. The light behind beamed onto your form, radiant hair, and skin, and self-reflected around the police department. Remembering the information he just gave you about the Deviant Savior, he turned back in front and looked at Hank. "Just some useful information about the Deviant Savior; she knows a lot about her, for a Human. She must have been investigating it for a long time." Hank scoffed. "Yeah, feds tell you that stuff for believing their lies. Look, she seems like a nice girl, but we need to keep our guard up, the feds are already shady as they go, and if we do something wrong, the case is theirs, no questions, if's, and's or but's about it. Now, look through those files and follow me, if we can get this tin-can bastard to talk, then we can look further into the investigation." As Hank walked ahead, Connor soon followed, listening to Hank's instructions as he looked through the files, quickly and efficiently. Watching the two heads that way, your mouth formed a smirk before Venom popped out of your back, Time suddenly stopping as he awakened from his nap. 'The hell just happened-WOAH. WHY ARE WE AT THE POLICE?!'

"Good morning, buddy! Nice nap?" 'Don't give me that bullshit, and tell me what's happening. I was asleep for two days, and you're already entering enemy territory? And I thought I was stupid for almost pushing that Simon Tin-Can off the building.' 'You missed a lot, I'll have to fill you in later-wait, you pushed Simon off the building?!'

'Hints the word 'Almost.' He ate my chocolate cake; it was the last one before the world went to shit. No one else would have punished him for his crimes, so I made him wet his pants a little; you should've seen his face; he looked like a constipated child, waiting for their shit to finally come out of their asshole.' Your eyes rolled. "First of all, that's a little harsh; second, Androids don't even have human boul functions, so they can't pee; and third, you need to apologize to him when we return. No wonder he was acting bossy; you started it."

'Like hell! I won't apologize to that lying piece of Tin! He shouldn't have eaten my piece of chocolate cake, then! He basically started it! It's like when you and North fought for a fucking month over some stupid Skittles that were in a crate we ravaged back at Cyberlife.'

"Ok, I had a reason to fight for those; she can't even eat; she just likes the texture in her 'mouth.'" 'Ok, and you still got revenge; Sad you didn't kill the bitch, but you still got revenge, why can't I?' "Because Simon is important to the team, you can't kill him, and I can't kill North, so we both have to stick with them, whether we like it or not." 'I hate that your fucking right all the time....why can't you be president instead of that old hag of a human?' "Because I flunked out of law school and invited your ass to come inside me to be your vessel." '......oh, I'm so sorry.' You shrugged. "No biggie, my life is way more impressive now than it would have ever been, I can't Imagine what the old hags do off camera, now are you done being a Mr grump grump, or are you going to be reasonable during the 'interogation?' 'If the decoy fucks up I blame you.' "Why?! Your the one who made it! It was North's Idea anyway!" 'I'm just saying, they are all counting on you, including her, so If you or the Robo Cop finds a way for it to give the police information, while having the thing kill itself with no one else in harms way, then you should be fine, no pressure.' Feeling him go back into your back, you took a deep breath before time started again, leaving Connor and the department being able to move again, knowing little and having no Memrory of what just happened. Looking at your coffee, you sipped it one last time, as you grasped it more into your hands, yourself getting off the desk you were leaning on.

Hopefully, thinking as you walked, this decoy Venom has made will do the trick for the police because If that RK 800 finds out this is all a rouse, you and Jerhico might be discovered, and Venom or yourself might be separated and arrested, or worse, even killed. So this operation must go smoothly, all of the androids and Jericoh are all counting on you...because...

'You're the Deviant savior after all.'

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"Why did you do it...? Why did you kill him?" It was investigation time, and Hank had been trying to talk to your decoy for hours, but nothing coming out of its mouth. Venom and you designed it so that only Connor could speak to it. He was beside you, as another person you didn't recognize was leaning against the wall, closer to the non-see-through glass, the three of you carefully listening in. "How long were you in the attic? Who was that girl who took you away?" No answer, just a long, filled noise of silence. Hank couldn't get anything out of the thing as the deviant kept looking at the table, his hands cuffed to the metal below him. "Why did you take the girl's hands? Why did you want to run away? Scared? Scared that we might have killed ya? Because you killed that man, and your fleeing with her might have something to do with it." Again, nothing. The silence started to piss Hank off, and he cursed under his breath before getting up from the chair and exiting the room. 'If he isn't a stupid, brainless human, he would have him talking by now.'

'Be quiet; he tried his best.' 'Yes, he did, and we designed this stupid decoy for only the Rk 800 bastard to talk to; this old hag isn't going to do shit.' 'Just trust in the process, Venom; Connor will soon ask questions, I know it. That's why Cyber life brought him in, remember?' 'Yeah, brought him in to help; I highly doubt these shit of humans would even let him near the decoy, let alone ask him some questions.' 'I know you're concerned for Connor, but he will get the decoy to talk; after all, if it destroys itself, we programmed it to tell Connor all he needs to know about the RA9, the I AM ALIVE sign, and even why Carlo's was killed by him, all we need is patience...' '...Fine, but if all of this blows over, you owe me another chocolate cake at the cafe ten blocks from here, got it?' You smiled. 'Got it.'

Eying the lieutenant more through the walls, he entered the room, and you heard some grumbles coming from his mouth. "We're wasting our time interrogating a machine where we'll get nothing out of it!" He snarled, sitting in the chair Beside you, as the guy on the wall chuckled. "You could always try ruffing it up a little; after all, it's not human." 'You disgust me; I'd rather eat someone than ruff them up; it makes it easier. Besides, androids have a wonderful minty aftertaste. ' Glaring at him harshly, you felt sick with his comment before Connor looked at him. "Androids don't feel pain. You would only damage it-" "And that wouldn't make it talk either; it would make it more freaked out than it already is."You added, looking back to the decoy. "Besides, putting more stress on the deviant will make it self-destruct; we don't want the whole building to go Boom, Boom." The man kicked off the wall, glaring harshly at you. "Ok, smartasses..." Stopping, his arms crossed again. "What should we do, then?" 'Throw you out the window, you human piece of trash.' As you and Connor looked at each other, you looked back at the man. "Connor could try questioning it; he was sent here for that reason. And if it doesn't work, I can try; it's my case, too." "Oh, I-i'm sorry, I didn't know the fed's own everything now; if this is your case, by all means, send the fucking coke can in; it's not like Hank and I have an opinion after all." 'Oh, there's always an option to eat and devour your bones.' "For fuck sake, enough, Gavin, roughing this guy up won't help; these two, that's all that's left; you two do on, the suspect is all your's." "Smiling, you stood up and looked at Connor. "Wanna interrogate him together? He might have a better chance of getting him to talk than with one person." Thinking for a moment, Connor looked at the deviant. "That might not be a bad idea, detective; let's go." Nodding, you followed, exiting the door and entering the interrogation side. The decoy immediately saw you, as your pointer finger quickly went to your mouth, wanting it to be quiet.

As Connor sat in front of the Devaint, he began to analyze him, every single movement, inch, and tech this android had on him. He even looked into his wounds. You went to the corner, leaning against the wall as your arms crossed, Venom reading his stress level at 35%. 'His levels are steady; we need the Robocop to get our decoy to 100% stress level for it to talk; we'll let it destroy itself, right?' You nodded. 'Yeah, because why would we give them more evidence? We don't want them too far ahead or too close to our tail; let's keep this thing simple and see what Connor can do.'

The file at the end of the table was now in front of your decoy as Connors's hands opened it, revealing a familiar picture of Carlos to the deviant. "Remember him? It's Carlos Ortiz, Stabbed 28 times." He flipped to the next picture; I AM ALIVE. "That is written on the wall with his blood." His stress level rose as Connors's head tilted slightly. "I detect an instability in your program; it can trigger an unpleasant feeling, like fear in humans." The decoy was still silent but looked up slightly to Connor, to you, then back to the table. ""You've been silent since they've arrested you. If you don't cooperate, they'll do things the hard way. Is that what you want?" The deviant's stress rose more, now at 43%. "You don't seem to understand the situation. You killed a human; they'll tear you apart if you don't say something." The stress level at 47%. "I'm here to help you...but you gotta trust me." Connor spoke, leaning more toward the deviant. "All I want is to get you out of here." He stated as the deviant's head looked up, himself hesitantly looking around. "W-What are t-they going to do to me..?" Connor was silent, alerting the deviant to freak out as he looked at Connor. "They're going to destroy me, aren't they?" "They're going to destroy you to look at your bio components; they have to if you don't tell us anything in use." "Why did you tell them she found me? Why coudln't you have her just take me to a safer place?" "She, in Meaning the girl who took you, who is she? What were her intentions with you?" The defiant was silent, but he answered “Nothing terrible to us, but to humans, she hates, she felt the same hatred towards my owner as I...she wanted to save me; she wanted me to have freedom; she was going to take me to a place where all androids Roam-free, where all called to RA9." "RA9… that symbol was written all over the shower walls in the bathroom. Was that what you're doing?" The deviant glared up at him. "It's the only way for him to see my message, my prayer....humans….they must be stopped." 'Damn it. He's getting nowhere; he's only at a stress level of 50%. He needs to be 100%. Can you do something? This Tin Can is getting me pissed."

You kicked yourself off the wall, grabbing a file from your coat as you stood beside Connor, slamming it to the table, the decoy jumping slightly. "28 STAB WOUNDS!" you snarled, both of your hands going to the table as you leaned closer to the decoy, face getting more irritated. "That's how many times you killed your owner, 28 times; if you really wanted to be free, then for murder, we would charge you the same for a human man, life to prison or sentence to death; you will get the same treatment if you don't speak. You hear me?! WHO IS THE DEVIANT SAVIOR? WHO IS RA9?!" You were very close to the deviant's face, his stress level skyrocketing from 50% to 80%. Venom lowered your voice slightly as the loudness and the deepness echoes the room. It shocked Connor slightly; his eyes looked around to see if anyone else was in the room, but no one was. Just you, and your incredible voice change. Gavin whistled behind the glass, shivers descending his spine while looking at a shocked but impressed Hank. "For a fed...she has good skills, scared the suspect and the tin can to death." Gulping, Hank leaned towards the glass more, his skin getting goosebumps. "She didn't just scare them...Holy shit... I-i think I might have just shit myself..." “what’s wrong Hank? Can’t take a little puberty?” Hank glared to him. “That was not puberty, smart ass, that…” Looking back to you, your eyes dug into the deviants soul, as a dark aroama formed around you, giving the interrogation room a different feeling from before. “That was inhuman.”

"You're not going to talk?" You asked, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you lifted up from the table, soon crossing your arms. "Probe his memory, Connor." The deviant's eyes widened as he looked at you, shocked. “How do you-is that is necessary? He answered my questions perfectly-“ “Just to it, Connor!” “But I-“ “DO IT!” The deviant face shot up, looking at the two of you now as his eyes were filled with fear. “W-What?! N-No, please, please don't let me relive what I've been through, no, NO, NO-" Connor grabbed hold of his head with both hands, a shit ton of information transferring from the deviant to him. After a lot of screaming from the decoy and around 15 minutes of containing said information, Connor was finished; as he quickly let go, the deviant's stress was entirely at 100 percent. Not seeing to investigate further, Connor looked at you, slightly overwhelmed by what he saw. “I have the information; we got all we need." Sensing some concern or remorseful emotion coming from him, you nodded, soon hopping off the table. "Let's get out of here then; we're done; take him back." Hank was hesitant at first but soon built up a little courage and got up from his Chair, Gavin sending his men in there to take the suspect back. But, as the bunch of you were about to leave, a loud bang arose, multiple actually.

*BANG!*

*BANG!*

*BANG!*

"What the hell?!" Hank went into the room and everyone turned to see the deviant banging his head against the wall, trying to kill himself directly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IDIOTS?! STOP HIM!!" Gavin ordered, he and his men tried to hold the deviant back, but the deviant just kept slamming his head, as blue blood spread all across the table.

"H-He's too strong! I can't stop him!!!" Yelled an officer, who was still trying to stop it, but it kept going until his breathing and wiring were no more.

Slamming his head for the last time, he face-planted dead onto the metal surface, more blue blood escaping, splattering onto Hank and other officers.

You and Connor weren't surprised by this, but everyone else in the room felt goosebumps and vomit coming up from their throats. The deviant showing no signs of life. “W-What the hell-Just happened?" Hanked asked, trying to get his breath, as you simply looked at him, no emotion showing. "He killed himself because of high stress when Connor probed his memory. It's a way to get information about what happened, but instead of Connor getting it, they both got it, which brought anxiety and stress to the Suspect. That action was necessary since he wasn't talking or giving both of us helpful information; he got it himself. Now, we can really start the investigation; we're done here; if you'd excuse me, gentlemen, I will report to Fowler the incident." And with that, you left, leaving everyone but Connor in utter confusion and shock. But Connor wasn't just going to let you leave, as he followed you right out, Running to you. "Detective!" Stopping, you turned to Connor before smiling. "Connor, I told you to call me Y/n-" "How did you know I can probe Deviants memory? That's a tactic only Androids know." Not surprised that he asked this question, you sighed.

"I work with Androids, the Feds higher all kinds of different android Ranks, and my partners, just happen to be Androids." You lied, Connors LED turning yellow as he processed the information. "You knew the Probe technique would work; why didn't you tell me we needed to use it before going there?" Chuckling, your head shook."Connor, it was a last-minute decision, we were getting no answers from the deviant, and we had no time to discuss the matter; it seems that you did it right away when I asked, but you didn't have to do it. For the future and as a learner of experience, if you want things to work when having a partner or working with someone that's not an android, communication is something that I should have done. Another is standing up for what's right or wrong; if you thought probing the enemy's memory was a bad idea, it would have been wise to say something. Wrong feelings in dire situations can lead to good actions, but good feelings in dire situations can lead to bad decisions. Do you understand?" he simply nodded. "Yes, I think so." "Good, I know you and Hank might not trust me because I'm FBI, but the three of us have the same mission on our hands, to do what is right and to find the Deviant Savior, so we all have to work together whether we like it or not, so, I will take my leave and head to fowlers office, I will see you both when another case pulls up." Connor nodded. "Will do detective!” Turning with a sigh, you pointed to him. “We’ll work on that too, because my name is not detective Connor…”

“It’s Y/n.”

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[eternal-python]

The final chapter is done, thus completing the entire book! Thank you everyone who stuck with me this long and for all the people who have helped me along the way.

I'll upload the pictures here as soon as I am able, since I also have to go back and fix the mess with the imgur links anyhow, but first here is the link so you can download it yourself. It is HEAVY at 1gb so watch out.

A few ground rules.

•Repost it wherever you would like. DO NOT SELL IT. DO NOT GAIN MONEY FROM THIS. DO NOT PLACE THIS IN A WEBSITE THAT RUNS ADS.

• DO NOT CREDIT ME OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR. IF you're uploading outside of tumblr, mentioning it outside of tumblr, Do not link back to this blog. If asked about the origin, say the original scanner has asked not to be credited. If they ask to read the manga, give them the zip file.

•If I get a cease and desist I am going to be so fucking mad I swear. Behave. Don't talk about it on twitter or instagram or whatever the hell the youths use nowadays. You wouldn't tell a cop who your illegal spring knives dealer is, so don't go on twitter posting pannels from the scanlation. The raws should be fine, but use common sense.

•Feel free to retranslate, redraw, use for edits, amvs, fancams, icons, whatever you'd please. Feel free to pay a proper translator to give this a look. Just upload it somewhere I can see afterwards, so I can know once and for all what the hell a sarumatango is.

• I will re-scan the first few chapters myself and re-typeset them since I now have not-ugly fonts. This means there WILL be a second file eventually. Keep an eye out.

The link is only up for 14 days. Download it and distribute it among your friends. Have fun. Send me more persona 2 4koma manga raws. Love ya.

[dragonflight203]

Mass Effect 2 replay, part 1 of the Citadel:

-As others have noted, it’s odd Shepard is even allowed to dock a Cerberus ship. Let’s put that down as Anderson’s influence.

-Even Kasumi is insisting this must be the real Shepard. She can tell by Shepard’s presence.

The game is really pushing that Shepard is real; was this in the original script or did play testers assume Shepard would turn out to be a clone or the like and these scattered insistences about Shepard were attempts at damage control?

-Femshep’s voice acting at the start of ME2 is much weaker than it was in ME1. I always notice this. It gets better at some point, but the difference between the end of ME1 and the start of ME2 is jarring.

-Paraphrased:

C-Sec guard: sorry, but I can’t let you a board a shuttle with that

Turian: But this is a ceremonial item of my people!

C-Sec guard; Sir, it’s a 15 centimeter serrated blade.

That probably is a ceremonial item for turians. Which is still regularly used as a weapon.

-Increased security, and C-Sec still lets the dead in. Because no one’s ever tried to pass themself off as a dead person before.

-I’m not fond of Bailey. Odd because I love Garrus and they’re both corrupt cops, but Bailey feels higher on the sleaze factor.

Maybe it’s because Garrus is introduced investigating Saren and saving Dr. Michel and Bailey is introduced encouraging fellow cops to beat up prisoners.

Pretty sure Executor Pallin wouldn’t approve of Bailey.

-And here is Bailey also insisting that Shepard is real. Because the DNA scanners say so. Because cloning hasn’t been established to be real in Mass Effect.

Did the writers just forget about Dr. Saleon? And how he cloned organs inside of living people?

All this insistence that Shepard is real just feels very out of place when nothing comes of it. I’d have preferred if the game just glossed over it completely, instead of reassurances with no weight behind them.

-And Bailey has zero concern about Shepard because they’re hero. And as we know, heroes are above suspicion and never need to be investigated.

Let’s just ignore Saren, who was one of the council’s most trusted agents and recently tried to murder them.

Was Bailey seriously the only choice available for captain?

-Hmm. Renegade Shepard complains that the Council made no effort to confirm their death.

Shepard, you were spaced. Assuming you were dead is reasonable. One of the few points the game is consistent on is that you were, for all practical, purposes dead when Cerberus got their hands on you. There’s a reason the project was called the Lazarus project.

-Bailey, paraphrased: I’m with them [formalities] until they keep people from doing their jobs.

Bailey, formalities normally exist for good reasons. Like, for example, ensuring that cops don’t torture people. Or to verify that a person who comes back from the “dead” is really that person.

-And he calls the Council “scaly asses”. Let’s just add racism to the bingo board.

-Bailey, paraphrased: Policing a ward is like policing New York City. Sometimes you have to work outside the Council’s rulebook.

Did the writers not know the reputation of New York City police? Or the police in most major cities, for that matter?

It’s not hard to understand why a turian politician later runs on an anti-human platform in the Zakera ward. Bailey, and by extension his force, is not a shining example of humanity.

-Zakera ward is the minority ward. The other wards are dominated by asari, turians, and salarians. Interesting. Good justification for the all the humans seen in it and why Shepard docked there.

-There are human captains in C-Sec because of the Battle of the Citadel.

Bailey, paraphrased: We had the most experienced bodies.

Humans have been in the galactic community for less than 30 years, but they have the most experienced C-Sec personnel to promote? Really?

Not the asari that live a millennia, the turians who created C-Sec, the salarians that have been here near the start, or the hanar or volus that have been around for much longer than humanity?

That humans were promoted after the officers lost in the Battle of the Citadel and their role in stopping Saren, I can believe. That they were promoted because they were the most experienced I doubt.

-The transient dialogue on the Citadel is a joy. ME2’s and ME3’s writing tends to shine in these kind of conversations.

Love the krogans debating if there are fish on the presidium, and how they should kill turians for believing that all krogans are dangerous.

And the turian refusing to have the lifespan talk with his asari partner.

-The Zakara Cafe turian shopkeeper knows about Ardat-Yakshi. They’re not as much of a secret as the asari like to believable – and that’s to be expected, considering the asari have been part of a multi species society for over a millennia. You’re not going to keep something like that a secret for that long.

-I enjoy the News Reports by Emily Wong and the Galactic News, and I’m happy I can now cycle through all of them. No more RNG based on elevator rides.

However, I wish I could either read them or listen to them as I move. Needing to stay nearby as they play is annoying.

-The Galactic News mentions Toombs, the Cerberus scientist that he wanted to kill, and that Cerberus may have been involved in killing Admiral Kohaku. Good to see this at least mentioned, after all off Cerberus’ activities in ME1 have been downplayed so far.

-The Galactic News says that the combai VI on Luna was not intentionally upgraded to full AI status, so the Alliance will not likely be prosecuted. Interesting – Hackett insisted in ME1 that it was just a VI. When was it determined that it was a full AI?

-The Galactic News says that Kate Bowman – rescued in Bring Down the Sky – will read a thank you for the Alliance soldiers who rescued her.

No mention that it was Shepard who rescued her? And interesting that it specifies Alliance soldiers, when Shepard is a spectre.

-Rachni vessels have been spotted. Where did these go in ME3?

I suppose they could be the ships the rachni used to get to the Crucible, but the Breeder gets there too and couldn’t have built the ships mentioned here.

-Interesting how ads list key words to find a website by, rather than provide a URL

-I want to see the awful movie made about the Battle of the Citadel.

-Avina says the only shop on the dock level is the souvenir shop. So much for Zakera Cafe, which has the high quality ingredients you need for a side quest.

-The Council might not like Udina, but they prefer him to Anderson. Not surprising – Udina understands how to play the game.

-Anderson says there’s no evidence for the Reapers outside of Shepard’s reports. Good to see someone acknowledge eyewitness reports aren’t the most reliable evidence.

-If you go paragon, Sparatus points out that the Terminus systems are beyond the Council’s authority and humanity colonizes it at their own risk.

Again: When did humanity start colonizing the Terminus systems?

I’m just going to assume this started after Shepard died.

Regardless, Sparatus is right here. And this is consistent with ME1 – the Council wants nothing to do with the Terminus Systems.

-Shepard says the geth would never have followed Saren, since Saren is organic.

I’m not certain about that. The geth don’t do emotions the way other species do; they may follow an organic if they believe it to be logical. They’re just extremely skeptical that it would ever be in their interests to do so.

However, this is a reasonable assumption for Shepard to make at this point.

-Tevos: You are working with Cerberus – an avowed enemy of the Council. This treason, a capitol offense.

She’s not wrong. The Council offering to reinstate Shepard as a spectre is quite an olive branch, considering – and one made by Sparatus. Usually it would be Tevos offering such a compromise.

-Anderson is very quick to defend Shepard. He’s definitely the reason why the Normandy could even dock.

-Everyone’s very blunt that the title is just ceremonial, however. No need for Shepard to even bother filing reports. Ah, well. Still get the privileges of the title.

-Udina’s right that Shepard is a political nightmare, especially if Shepard went renegade in the conversation with the Council.

The first human spectre working for a human supremacist group cannot be good for pr.

-From what Anderson says, Udina is doing the real work. Probably why the Council wants to work with him. Udina knows who to speak to to get things done, Udina’s attending the various functions…

-The Citadel is still dependent on the keepers for rebuilding. Please tell me someone is now officially researching them, at least.

-Sovereign’s wreckage is everywhere, and you just know people made off with as much of it as they could.

No wonder Cerberus was able to make a coup attempt in ME3. There must be so many indoctrinated people on the Citadel by that point, and destabilizing the central government is part of the Reaper’s modus operandi.

-And when asked about Kaidan, Anderson says that while Shepard is with Cerberus they can’t be told everything.

And warns Shepard not to trust Cerberus when the conversation ends.

After the Cerberus apologism through the first part of the game, hearing them treated with suspicion on the Citadel is a huge relief.

-Hmm. On a surface level, the Council does appear to not believe in the Reapers at this point.

And I’m not certain they do – the Reapers are quite a lot to swallow without hard evidence.

However, I do think it’s reasonable to take away from the meeting that the Council was stonewalling Shepard due to their Cerberus connections. They were never going to trust Shepard with anything they considered important while they were with Cerberus.

The Council very reasonably could be preparing for a war and not disclose any of that to Shepard. After all – the geth came from the Perseus Veil. If they really believe the geth created Sovereign, what’s to say there aren’t more Sovereigns beyond the Veil?

They could be quietly moving to get on war footing to prepare to go to war with the geth. I find it very odd that there are no mentions of the Veil – no mentions if ships have been coming or going from it, no mentions of sending in a survey team to confirm if there are more geth there. You expect me to believe that after the geth attacked the Citadel the STG did not scramble to gather every scrap of information possible on the geth?

And as we confirm in this game, there are a shitton of geth behind the veil. If they were hostile and capable of creating Sovereigns, C-Space would be fucked. Assuming the STG confirmed their existence, the Council is probably preparing to take them on.

From their perspective, the human colonies in the Terminus systems aren’t their problem. That’s out of their jurisdiction. If Shepard wants to pursue them, fine – it gets them out of C-Space. If Shepard saves them while being a spectre, even better; good publicity for the Council.

So if Shepard’s reinstated as a spectre, I think the conversation with the Council went about as well as it could at this point. Both sides are annoyed at each other for ignoring the real issue at hand, and want the other out of their hair while they focus on the important problems.

[x-populuxe]

First-lines-of-fic meme! I was tagged by @destinationtoast. 😘

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

So...I have published ten fics total, and rather than posting the first lines of every single one of them, I’m going to mix this up and do my five most recent as well as my five current WIPs, because I have somehow become a person with five substantially written WIPs, I cry. (This is clearly an attempt at public accountability, help lol).

All fics are X-Men, of course, and unless otherwise marked, Charles/Erik:

Published!

1. “to put the world between us” (25K words, actor AU)

The drive should take two hours, but Erik manages it in ninety minutes, using his powers to floor the gas pedal as he scrambles the occasional police scanner. When he whips into the hotel parking lot in a spray of gravel, Emma’s mental greeting is half is half warm, half weary.

2. “Unlived Histories (The Double Vision Remix)” (18K words, remix, time travel)

Erik didn’t know it then, but everything started to change on Charles’s sixteenth birthday.

3. “Correspondence” (13K words, part of a canon-divergent series set in 1963)

When Charles wakes, he stretches out his mind and then his arm, groping at the opposite side of the bed. Erik isn’t there, though the sheets are still warm.

4. “What We Inherit” (20K words, David & Charles, father-son bonding)

David first starts to suspect that something’s up when his father gets a phone call very early on Tuesday morning.

5. “the way it travels in and keeps emitting light” (29K words, accident and recovery, enemies to friends to lovers)

Erik lets himself into Raven’s building on Friday evening, waving a hand as the locks click open. As he rides the converted freight elevator up to the top floor, he sinks his powers into all those sturdy old pulleys and gears—one thing on the long list of reasons he prefers Raven’s apartment to his own.

WIPs!

(obviously these are not set in stone)

1. The “Charles bailing Erik out of jail” fic I am currently writing for @ikeracity for Fandom Trumps Hate! (Ike you get a sneak peek lol) (ps I'm legit obsessed with writing this fic rn, thank you again for your prompt):

 “One phone call” is only a thing in the movies—but the cops don’t give you unlimited phone calls, either. This turns out to be a problem when all your friends were either arrested alongside you or are completely fucking worthless.

2. Multiverse/time travel fic that begins 8 months after the events of XMFC:

They’re moving quickly through the woods that surround the facility when Emma slows and makes a clicking sound with her tongue. Erik holds out his arms to halt the rest of the group.

3. Sequel to “What We Inherit,” still about David & Charles, but also with some (semi-hostile) cherik as well:

It’s a beautiful late-summer day, with a bright blue sky stretching above the sandy dunes that extend from the house out towards the Atlantic.

But David can’t see any of that right now, because he’s sitting in his bedroom, reading a book.

4. Media AU (trust me, this first line makes sense in context lol):

DAVID REMNICK: This is The New Yorker Radio Hour. I’m David Remnick.

5. Big Billions AU I started writing in early 2020 🥲 that I’ve finally picked up again this year:

Crowds, the common wisdom goes, are one of the truest tests of a telepath’s strength and skill. Never mind that there’s far more to telepathy than brute force and blunt shielding—with a packed train or a busy bar or a stadium full of revelers, it’s easier to see just how effectively a person can block out other minds.

This is a fun exercise, especially to look at patterns! Tagging @rozf, @gerec, @ikeracity, @midrashic, @joshriku, @arcanewinter, @jackyjango, + anyone else who wants to do this! (If anyone else wants to put their WIP opening lines out there, join me!!!!)

[hollowsart]

So question for ya regarding insomniac spiderman 2 mysterio - during the side quest at some point (I think during the finale iirc) miles runs into actual Quentin who's somehow broken through the illusion stuff Betsy and Cole are doing and he's dressed normally - like he was during his first appearance and later when we see him at the other mysteriums. But then when miles confronts Betsy and Cole and finds Quentin in a closet tied up he's decked out in full mysterio gear so... When did that happen? When did he change clothes? Did Betsy and Cole like... put him in his costume for the cops (or spiderman) to find to make their plan of framing Quentin (him going "full mysterio") seem more authentic?? Unless I'm misremembering of course...

I didn't even really pay attention to that little detail, but honestly??? You make a VERY great point with this.

(the rest of my response, it got really long, sorry):

I feel like he was already injured when he shows up in the simulation as a warning to Miles as you can see he's somewhat gripping at his side and not standing straight, they must've done something to him. he was also in a hurry and panic-- they definitely caught on to him trying to fight back against what they were doing and so they took him out, decked him out, and hid him away until they were in a position to release him that would be beneficial to getting them out of trouble and pinning all the blame on him.

Either they dressed him up, or he dressed up on his own try and fight back against them (albeit unwillingly, although I do suspect at one point he tried to give them a taste of the 'Mysterio' they wanted so bad for their plan after he found out what they were planning behind his back.. after all, he had the last Dev log and it was the the clearest evidence)

(you could make an argument that they set up and faked that dev log where Betsy reacts to "Mysterio" setting up a secret scanner in the Mysteriums that scans people credit cards without them knowing and Betsy being "that's illegal, you can't do that". I mean.. She DID seem far more interested in the monetary gain from this stunt rather than actually help Quentin Beck with what he really wanted. what he wanted didn't benefit her in the slightest, but the potential to become rich from it is what got her invested.)

Also considering Miles had his clothes changed when he was inside the Mysterium simulation for the first time, his clothes changed entirely. Who's to say, Beck didn't make himself look that way on purpose to help Miles understand that that Mysterio he is fight isn't the real him. He's been telling Miles throughout that boss battle to keep doubting and being skeptical. It's subtle enough that Betsy and Cole wouldn't have noticed too much compared to if he was merely saying "That's not me, don't believe them!" which would have been very very obvious and might have caused more trouble.

Or. Potentially. He had already been wearing the outfit as a speculated him giving the two a taste of the real Mysterio they wanted so bad for this whole thing. He's definitely the type of guy to get dressed for the part he plays.

He could have been stuck in that outfit for quite awhile for all we know. Trapped inside his own Mysterium, too. He was very weak when Miles finally found him, too, so.. All we really can do is speculate and make up our own theories and probabilities to what actually occurred off screen.