#tw: mention of suicide

[dcxdpdabbles]

There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.

One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.

Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.

Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.

Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.

Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.

He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.

Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.

She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.

In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.

Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.

That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.

She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.

They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.

It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.

And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.

He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.

His results were shocking, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.

Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.

An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.

"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."

"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.

A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.

It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."

Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"

His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.

They quickly spring into action.

"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"

"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."

The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."

Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.

He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."

What.

She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"

And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.

The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!

Where did this man get the audacity!?

"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"

"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."

It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.

He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.

______________________________________________________________

Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.

Dramatically dropping grades.

Clear signs of sleepless nights.

Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.

Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.

His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.

It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.

Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.

Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.

He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.

"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."

"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."

"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."

"I'll help," Dick tacks on.

"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.

Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."

Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Rescue Mission Au #misunderstanding #TW: mention of suicide #Off screen but there #Danny is just ghost fighting #But Bruce thinks his son is being abused #Tw: Assumed child abuse #Danny will not be a wayne #The Waynes think he needs a hero not that he is a hero

[inlovewithpandora]

- I’m Tired Pt.3 -

This is the final part!

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

Navagation || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

This series was inspired by the song above^

Pairing: Neteyam × Omatikaya fem!reader

Both Characters are 19!

Warnings: some angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of death (let me know if I missed any)

If your uncomfortable with this type of writing please click off!

Word count: 4.7k

Authors Note: I want to thank everyone who has been supporting this mini-series from the beginning! I appreciate all the support and love you guys have shown me! I hope all you continue to support me on my future works💗!

Glossary: ‘itan - son || ‘ite - daughter || yawntutsyìp - darling (or little loved one) || tìyawn - love

When Neteyam found you on the cave floor he took you to the healing pod where his grandmother would heal the wounded. When Moat saw Neteyam carry you in with blood running down your arm and with bruises all over you she could almost feel the pain that was inflicted upon you.

Moat put herbs on your wound and wrapped leaves around your arm that were coated with medical serum. She then put a paste over your bruises so they could eventually vanish. As Neteyam watched Moat work on you he felt a wave of deep sorrow go through him. All he could think about was seeing you bleeding out on the cave floor. All he could see was the blood staining the ground as it dripped down your thigh. He knew he shouldn't have gone hunting today, he knew he should've stayed home with you. He regretted leaving your side.

"Grandmother, is she going to be okay? Is she gonna die?" he said almost in a whisper hoping that he wouldn't hear bad news

"No but right now she is with Eywa" Moat said calmly while still tending to your wounds

"What do you mean with Eywa?" Neteyam asked confusedly. He didn't understand how you weren't dead but you were with Eywa

"Y/N is getting the answers she needs" Moat told him not wanting to give him any more details. She knew what was happening in the spiritual realm but she thought it was best for you to share your experience once you woke up.

"How long will be before she wakes up?"

"It could be days or weeks. It all depends on how her soul and body responds"

Neteyam just nodded his head, taking in everything his grandmother told him. He bent down beside you, grabbed your hand and held it against his cheek, "Y/N please come back to me, I need you. I can't do this life without you" He told you while tears ran down his face and onto your hand.

Neteyam didn't know when you were going to wake up but he wasn't going to leave your side until your eyes fluttered open.

It's been almost a week since Neteyam and Jake found you in the cave. Neteyam hasn't left your side unless he necessary. He has been giving you around the clock care. He’s been making sure to keep you hydrated by brushing a cloth of freshwater over your lips every hour on the dot. Instead of sleeping he watched over every night, hoping you would miraculously wake up.

Everyone kept telling him he needed to relax, that he needed to go home. Take some time and gather himself. But how could he manage to do that when the love of his life was in between life and death.

Jake and Neytiri tried to have him come home and get some rest multiple times but Neteyam wouldn't listen, "Son you need to come home and get some proper rest. You can come back once your fully rested" Jake told Neteyam trying to reason with him

"No! I'm not going! I'm not leaving her again! The last time I left sh- she-" Neteyam began to stumble over his words as tears fell down his face. He didn't want to leave you again because he didn't want anything else to happen and he wasn't there. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let something happen to you again.

Neytiri went over to her son and engulfed him in a hug, " 'itan I will stay with her until you come back. I promise nothing will happen to her, if she wakes up I will call you on the comm okay?" She began looking at him with pleading expression.

She could see how exhausted and drained he was from the dark circles and bags around his eyes. She could tell he hasn't been eating from how undernourished he looked.

Neteyam saw his mother practically begging him with her eyes while his father gave him the same look. Neteyam let out a sigh before answering his mother, "You promise you'll call me if anything happens?"

"Yes, I promise! now go get some rest" Neytiri said as she shooed him off with his father

Neteyam kissed you on your forehead before leaving out the pod with Jake. As Neytiri sat next to your unconscious body she took in all of your injuries. She could see faint bruises on your face and neck, the healing gash on your arm, and the other old wounds you had on both of your arms.

She wondered what would make you do this to your beautiful skin, why would you hurt the body Eywa has blessed you with? She questioned what caused you so much pain that would make you go to this degree. She wondered where those bruises came from. She wanted to know why you would try to remove yourself from among the living.

As she continued pondering she heard someone's footsteps walk inside the pod, "I see you Neytiri" Your father told her as she stood up to face him

"I see you ___" Neytiri replied

"How is Y/N doing?" He asked Neytiri trying to sound as sincere as possible. The only reason he came was to see if you were awake and if you spilled out your 'family secrets'.

"She's doing fine, we're just waiting for her to wake up" Neytiri told him as she moved to the other side of the pod and grabbed some herbs and serum-covered leaves to change your bandages and reapply herbs on your scars and bruises.

"Mm okay, well when she wakes up let me know. I'll be taking her home immediately" He told Neytiri before he exited the pod

Neytiri was suspicious about your father's behavior. This was the first time he came to see you since you've been in the healing pod and she picked up on his insincere tone. She didn't like the aura that was gleaming from him. She could feel a dark presence with him when he entered and she felt it vanish when he left. She knew something was off with him.

As Neytiri continued healing your physical body. Eywa was helping you heal your inner soul.

As of this moment your spirit was at the Tree of Souls, "Oh Great Mother, I'm so sorry!" you cried out with your neural queue connected to the tree. As you weep in front of the tree regretting your decision, the ground began to glow with bioluminescent light while the tendrils of the tree began to glow a brighter shade of pink.

You looked around confused about what happening until you saw a silhouette of someone. After a few seconds, you saw a navy blue-skinned woman walking up to you. At first, you were confused about who this woman was until you realized she looked identical to you, "Mother?"

"Yes, Ma'ite it is me" Your mother spoke up as she opened her arms waiting for you to jump into her embrace. You immediately ran up to her and jump into her arms as joyful tears ran down your cheeks.

"What's wrong yawntutsyìp?" your mother asked you as she pulled you back and began wiping the tears that were staining your face

"I-I I'm just so happy to see you! I never thought I would be able to see or hold you or even talk to you" You told her as you were taking in her appearance and presence. You couldn't believe your mother was standing right here in front of you.

"I'm happy to see you too! I've been wanting to do this ever since you were born" She told you as she tucked your hair behind your ear

"I'm sorry that I caused you to.... be here. If it wasn't for me you could still be alive and Father would be happy" you told her as you looked down at the ground feeling guilty as if it's your fault she was dead.

Your mother immediately shook her head and put her fingers on your chin to lift your head so you could look into her eyes, "My child, this is not your fault. Eywa called me home to live among her because she believed it was my time. My death is not your fault" she told you sincerely.

She began to examine your body and could see the bruises and scars on your body. She felt disgusted that her mate could ever do something like this to you. She hated that you had to go through this alone. She hated that you felt like cutting was your only escape.

"The things your father does and says to you are disgraceful, you need to leave him at once"

"I- I can't he said if I leave I would have to die so that's why I am here, I took matters into my own hands" you told her as tears streamed down your face as you thought about yourself cutting in the cave

Your mother looked at you feeling nothing but empathetic. She understood why you did what you did, but what you didn't know is that you would never have to take a drastic measure like that again.

"You do not have to fear your father anymore, Y/N. After today your father will never be able to hurt you again." Your mother told you as she rubbed your arm to comfort you

"W-what do you mean?" You asked her confusedly. You didn't understand what she meant because once you woke up you knew that you'll have to go back home to him.

"Eywa has sent me to you so I could relay a message. She wants you to know that your father will never lay another hand on you or speak any vulgar words to you ever again. Also, she wants you to know that she sees your pain and can hear your cries of suffering. She will make sure you have a safe environment to live in and you'll never have to go through anything like that again" Your mother told you as she grabbed your hand and ran her thumb across your skin.

"Where will I stay? Where will I go once I leave here?"

"You'll see once you wake up. I know how much you yearn for motherly love, how much you yearn for a family and it breaks my heart that I can't give you what you deserve. When you leave here you will find what you've been craving. The hole in your heart will soon be filled. You will be overwhelmed with love."

You were surprised by everything you heard your mother told you. You were going to find what you've craved? You would be overwhelmed with love? At the moment you couldn't fully understand what that meant but you were anticipating on finding out.

"I want you to know that Neteyam is a good boy for you" she told you while a smirk spread across her face and she nudged your shoulder

"How did you know about him?" You asked her as a small smile came on your face as well

"I've been watching over you. I've always watched over you from the time you learned how to walk until now. I've seen how Neteyam cares for you, protects you, and loves you. You have totally stolen his heart. He's been with you every day since he found you in the cave."

"He has?"

"Yes, Neytiri had to practically beg him to go home and get some rest. He wanted to stay with you no matter what, he didn't care if he didn't eat or sleep. The only thing he cared about was you waking up" Your mother told you with a smile on her face. She was so happy that you found someone like him and that he loves you no matter your faults.

"Wow I-I don't even know what to say" You told her as you stood there surprised by what she told you

"Say that you'll go back to him. Say that you'll grow old with him and have numerous children. Say that you will fight for him" she told you eagerly, trying to give you that motherly push that she knew you needed

"But I'm tired of fighting Mother I don't want to live like that anymore" you told her as you shook your head not wanting the darkness to consume her again

"This time you won't be fighting to live or die. You will be fighting to have happiness and peace, you will be fighting those negative feelings away for good"

"You promise?" You asked her looking into her eyes trying to make sure she was telling the truth

"Yes, my child I promise! This time you will win this fight, you will not lose" She told you as she pulled you into a hug, pouring out all her motherly love onto you.

As you embraced her, once again the ground began to glow brightly as the tendrils on the tree glowed a brighter pink.

"Mother, what is happening?" You asked her as you pulled back from her looking confused

"Eywa is calling me back, it is time for you to go."

"But I don't want to leave you, I want to stay here with you. When I leave here I will miss you deeply"

"I will always be with you, in here" she told you as she pointed to your heart. "Whenever you want to see me come visit me at the Tree of Voices and I will be waiting for you. I will be always watching over you, I love you Ma'ite and I see you." She caressed your cheek as tears fell down her face. She didn't want to say goodbye to her little girl but she knew she had to you

"I love you too Mother" You put your hand on top of hers and gazed at her, soaking in her presence and affection one last time before everything went dark.

As Neytiri was wrapping the new leaves on your arm she saw one of your fingers suddenly move. She paused her movements and began watching your body closely, trying to see if anything else would happen. She then saw your eyes slightly open as they began to blink to adjust to the light.

Her eyes immediately lit up with joy as she pressed her fingers on her throat comm, "Neteyam! Y/N is awake! Come now!" She said into her earpiece excitedly

Neytiri looked at you and grabbed your hand, "Y/N it's me Neytiri" She looked at you with a smile on her face. She was so happy you were awake, she knew Neteyam missed you dearly and she missed having you around.

You finally opened your eyes and could see Neytiri looking down at you, "Neytiri?" you said groggily as you tried to become aware of your surroundings

"Yes, it's me! How are you feeling?" She asked you as she reached over and got you a bowl filled with drinking water so you drink it

You sat up slowly and took the bowl from her and began drinking from it, once you were done you finally answered her question. "I'm feeling better" you told her as you thought about the talk you had with your mother. Talking to her gave you a sense of peace and strength. It made you realize that everything was going to be okay this time around.

"Great I'm so glad your feeling better, your father said to let him know when you woke up so he could take you home" Neytiri told you as she finished putting the leaves around your arm.

"W-when did he say this? Did you send someone to get him already?" You asked her hoping that she didn't send someone

"He came by earlier and I already sent someone to get him" As you heard her say that you felt your chest tighten as your breaths became more rapid. Neytiri looked at you confused as she tried to figure out what was happening, "Y/N what's wrong?" She asked you as she tried to calm you down

"Neytiri I need to tell you something before he gets here"

"What is it?"

"My father is not the good man he portrays to be. He is an alcoholic. He abuses me emotionally and phy-" Your sentence was cut off by your father furiously walking inside the pod. He heard everything you told Neytiri and he was ready to make you pay for disobeying him.

"Didn't I tell you not to tell anyone!? I told you the consequences if you tell anyone and you still didn't listen to me!" He yelled as he stood across the room walking towards you. You immediately stood up and went to the corner of the room trying to escape your father's rage.

As Neytiri looked at you in the corner of the pod with fear written all over your face it all made sense to her now. He's the reason you have the bruises and he's the reason you cut. She realized all this time he's been the one causing you all this pain.

As your father attempted to get closer to you Neytiri stood up and hissed angrily at him as her tail violently swung behind her, "DO NOT YELL AT THIS CHILD! THIS IS YOUR FAULT SHE IS LIKE THIS WITH ALL THESE WOUNDS AND BRUISES!"

"SHE WOULDN'T HAVE THEM IF SHE LISTENED!" He told her as he tried to walk past her and get to you

Neytiri pulled out her knife and immediately went into protective mode, "MOVE AND I CUT!" she snarled at him as she moved in front of you

Jake and Neteyam were outside walking towards the pod and could hear all the yelling going on inside. As they got closer Neteyam could hear your father and Neytiri yelling. He immediately ran inside to see what was going on.

When you, Neytiri, and your Father saw the curtain pull back all of you turned your head and saw Neteyam walk in with Jake behind him. As Neteyam looked at your father you could see how angry he became just by the sight of him. When your father saw Neteyam storm in he let out a dark chuckle, "Y/N what did I tell you about this boy the first time? Hm?" He asked you with glimmers of evil in his eye

You looked at Neteyam with sadness in your eyes. You didn't want to tell him what your father said and you didn't want Jake and Neytiri to hear either, "You said that he was using me for my body" you mumbled out

"And what did I tell you yesterday, when you came home?"

"That I was a slut and nobody would want me especially Neteyam"

When Jake, Neteyam, and Neytiri heard these words they were all disgusted by your father. They couldn't believe he would say those things to his own daughter. His own fresh and blood.

"You are the most pathetic and pitiful man I ever met! How could you tell your own daughter these things?! How could you put those bruises on her?!" Neteyam yelled at your father as he pointed to you

"I can do whatever I want because she's my daughter! She needs to be taught a lesson! She needs to learn that she is a FREAK and that nobody will want her when she cuts herself like a manic or if she's ran through like some slu-"

Your father's words were cut off by Neteyam pulling out his knife and creating one long slit across your father's chest that began to release droplets of crimson liquid, "Talk about her like that again, and it's going to be your neck getting cut next time!" Neteyam shouted at your Father as he screamed out in pain

Neteyam ran over to you and made sure you were okay. After you reassured him you were fine both of you began walking out of the pod together with his parents following behind the both of you.

As your father watched both of you walk out he felt like he was losing control over you, he realized his authority had no hold on you anymore. "I WILL KILL YOU NETEYAM! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!" Your father yelled out

When Neteyam heard your father say that he broke out into a laughing fit "I'll like to see you try!" Neteyam told him as he turned around and kicked the back of his leg making him slam into the ground

"And while I have your attention let me make one thing clear" Neteyam said as he crouched down next to your father's face "If you EVER say anything to her, come near her, or even lay a finger on her you will die. You will go meet Eywa and live among your ancestors so you can stop making her life a living hell" Neteyam told him as he pulled out his knife and put it against your father's neck with a malicious smirk on his face

"I will take this knife and plunge so deep into your chest that you will have a long slow death or I could use my great archery skills and shoot you with my arrow and cause you to die instantly from the impact on your heart" Neteyam told him as a dark chuckle fell from his lips

"So before you even think about coming near her again remember this little chat" Neteyam told him while he patted his chest where the cut was which made your father yelp out him pain

He stood up and looked at your Father with a contorted expression before he turned around and faced you, "Are you okay tìyawn?" He asked you as he examined you from top to bottom

"Yes Teyam I'm fine, let's go home" you told him as you clasped your hand into his

A smile spread across his lips as he heard you say the words 'home'. He loved hearing you consider his home as your own. As both of you walked to his family pod you knew that from here on out that your life has officially changed for the better.

It has been three months since everything happened and your life has been filled with nothing but pure bliss. it. Your father hasn’t spoken a single word to you or even looked your way. All the negative emotions you once felt have now passed. You've been living with Neteyam and his family and you've been loving every minute of it.

By living with them you finally began to understand what your mother told you at the Tree of Souls. When you officially came to live with Neteyam's family they drenched you with love. They gave you the family you always wanted, you now had the family you always wished for.

Neytiri showed you so much motherly love. You and her went hunting together, cooked together, made jewelry together, and she gave you motherly talks and advice about anything you needed.

You and Jake would do things together as well. You too would joke together. Both of you even had an inside joke that only you two knew the meaning of. He would tell you stories about all the crazy adventures he endured when he first came to Pandora. You would always sit there listening attentively, eager to hear Jake's stories because you loved hearing about how he was so reckless and adventurous. Over the months, he became your father figure and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You also had a great relationship with Neteyam’s siblings. All of them loved having you around, they looked at you as an older sibling.

You and Tuk would always have tea parties together and play with toy hexapedes. Both of you would make necklaces together for the family as she talk to about everything she saw in the forest that day.

You and Kiri would run through the forest and admire the different flora. Sometimes the two of you would sit down in patches of moss and practice different healing techniques that Moat taught both of you while she told you about her relationship with Spider.

Now you and Lo'ak have a different kind of relationship. Both of you would always tease each other, crack jokes, and have little petty arguments at times. Both of you knew that it was all fun and games though, the relationship y'all had was an average brother and sister-like relationship and you loved it.

You admired the relationships you had with all of them and you loved them dearly.

You and Neteyam's relationship has flourished over the past months. You two were closer than ever, both of you even spoke about getting a pod of your own soon.

As you were in his room making yourself a new bracelet he came inside and sat down next to you, "Hello beautiful" he said as he planted a kiss on your cheek

"Hi my tìyawn" you replied as you continued concentrating on making your bracelet

"What do you plan on doing today?" He asked you as he rested his hand on your thigh

"I'm glad you asked because I want to take you somewhere" you told him as you put down your unfinished bracelet and grabbed his hand while standing up

"Where are we going?" He asked with a smile on his face wondering where you were going to take him

"I can't tell or it'll ruin the surprise. You'll see once we get there" You began dragging him out of the pod and into the depths of the forest

As you walked through the forest you finally made it to your destination. Both of you were standing in front of the Tree of Voices, "Teyam I want you to meet someone, I want you to meet my mother!" you told him with a bright smile on your face.

You have been coming here almost every day to talk to your mother but Neteyam never came along with you. He always wanted you to have your alone time with your mother but now you want him to meet her.

"I'll be happy to meet her" Neteyam replied as he admired the joyful expression on your face.

Both of you walked up to the tree and pulled your braids from behind your backs. Both of you looked each other in the eyes before letting your nerve endings intertwine with the tendrils of the tree.

You could feel so much happiness at this moment. You loved how your life turned around for the better. You were thankful that Eywa saved you, you were thankful she blessed you with Neteyam.

The end

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I hope you enjoyed💗!

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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

Tags🏷️ : @fanboyluvr @julyytsireya @number1gal @navegaluv @ladespedidas @agelsully @itsaleidasworld @anxietydrogz @sunnysolhaze @liyahsocorro @myh3artttt @jiminbabygirl @kierys-blog @ilovehotpeople101 @haileymsstuff @eggtofu363 @potatoknishesoffical69 @theycallmesia @tiredmamaissy @pandorxxx @klumpa @pandorasfavorite @normspellmann @ihuggavatar @persefolli @multifandom-167 @yeosxxx @ilovejakesullysdick @etherialblackrose @luvriablack

#❖ — 🌳: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻.! #tw: mention of suicide #tw: sucidal thoughts #aged up neteyam #avatar fanfiction #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #neteyam atwow #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fanfic #neteyam x reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #tw: mentions of abuse #neytiri #jake sully #sully family #Spotify #avatar fanfic #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

[king--of--ducks]

TW:SH, SUI ATTEMPTS (MENTIONED), SELF DEPRECIATION, SELF DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR.

[[Is mod Andrew ping-ponging between his two accounts for roleplay? Yes, absolutely. And I run both blogs, so if I respond for one on the other acc, it’s fine, they’re both me.]]

Mammon kicked down the door to Lucifer’s bedroom.

🍎WHAT THE FUCK, MAM’?!🍎

💵RANDOM ARM CHECK!!!💵

🍎W-WHAT?!🍎

💵I told you last time, I would start doing random arm checks to make sure you weren’t hurting yourself. The day before the big plan about your daughter, the stress? So, let me see ‘em.💵

@mammon-money-maker

Lucifer shook his head slightly, pulling his blanket up around him.

🍎You don’t need to coddle me like a fucking baby, Mammon, I’m perfectly okay.🍎

Mammon put one set of arms on his hips.

💵Yeah, and I’m a fairy fuckin’ princess.💵

Mammon walked over to Lucifer, sitting on the end if the bed, holding one hand out for Lucifer to take—only for Lucifer to shake his head again.

🍎I……I really don’t want too.🍎

#lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin roleplay #hazbin #lucifer magne #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel roleplay #lucifer morningstar #mammon helluva #helluva boss mammon #helluva mammon #mammon helluva boss #Mammon #hellaverse rp #helluva boss rp #helluva roleplay #helluva rp #helluva boss roleplay #tw selfhate #tw sh #tw: mention of suicide #tw suicide #tw sui attempt #tw sui talk #tw sh related #tw sh destructive behaviour #tw self h4rm #tw self destructive behavior

[thewritetofreespeech]

Since you take Bungou Stray Dogs requests, could I request Dazai and Chuuya with an s/o who's got a blood-manipulation ability?

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dazai + Chuuya w/ Hemokinesis partner

Osamu Dazai

Ability similar to Katara. Or, manipulation of blood in the body or true liquid form.

Their ability is intriguing to Dazai, as it is possibly the only weapon an enemy brings to the fight themselves.

Everyone has blood. Everyone needs blood.

Has use their ability against him, on occasion, to stop him from doing something or filter something out from his body in one of his many suicide attempts.

Thinks it would be impossibly romantic if they could somehow exsanguinate the both of them together. To die hand in hand across a red moon.

Chūya Nakahara 

Ability similar to Mirai Kuriyama. Or, manipulation of blood outside the body into weapons for combat.

Actually pretty squeamish about it. The blood of his enemies is one thing, but seeing their blood….*shutter*

He also gets pretty anxious when they use their ability too long. It tends to weaken them which causes more vulnerability when fighting.

Constantly bringing them iron rich foods, like Japanese sweet potatoes, to increase their iron and avoid anemia.

Despite his worry, he is actually awe of their skill with a sword or weapon that they make of their own fashion.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuya nakahara #chuya x reader #chuya nakahara x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs hc #bsd headcanons #tw: blood #tw: mention of suicide

[mochablogger]

Can i get a hug i just kill myself today 🤠 yeehawwwww

POV: You meet an idiot before you commit suicide

#mocha cuppy #bin #platonic ship #osc #object show community #object oc #objectsona #not my oc #tw: blood/lore #tw: mention of suicide #osc art #cuppy art #cuppy asks

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

Calling comments pointing out racism in fandom “toxic” really isn’t it my friend. You are not escaping the white fans not giving a shit about anyone except themselves allegations

Alright I am going to take the chance that this is sent to me genuinely and that you are not a troll T-ing up a harassment campaign because I think I know the fic in question here and actually, unsolicited comments from strangers pointing out racism in fandom can be toxic to the cause of reducing racism - there is a lot to unpack here. I have a lot of thoughts on this from the perspective of a writer and at the risk of inviting a lot of trolls onto myself I am going to list those thoughts out here, for all the good they probably won't do:

First a few thoughts on this subject generally, and then specifics about the situation of the specific fic you reference:

1. Unsolicited Concrit in the AO3 and Tumblr environment - no matter what it is about - is not helpful.

Writers dont know the experience, context, or intention of the concrit giver. So writers are just frankly disinclined to trust it. Too many trolls and too many bad experiences mean a writer doing fanfic with limited time and for fun doesnt care to receive this in their comments. If they do want to improve their writing they are going to seek out a good fandom / writing community and then after that look for a trustworthy beta.

2. This unfortunately goes doubly so for accusations of homophobia, sexism, racism, transphobia, ablism, etc.

Too many bad actors and trolls use these kinds of painful accusations for nefarious purposes. This goes doubly so for kink fics and smut fics - trolls use these accusations with the primary intention of harassing writers into taking down fics they find to be "depraved" - aka too sex-positive. Kink and smut writers especially will only see your unsolicitied accusations of anything, im sorry that includes racism, as trolling harassment.

3. White writers who write racist portrayals of POC characters are, by and large, not racists themselves.

More than likely theyre unaware, undereducated, and come from a cultural context where what is obvious to you is not actually obvious to them. (A white american is more likely to be aware of stereotypes around native american and african american characters, for example, than a white european or australian). This does not mean that you have to tolerate this. You, the reader, can block and mute writers who write characters in ways you find harmful. Muting on AO3 has made my reading life 100x better.

If you're going to take the time to point out racism to a writer and see if they will improve their portrayal of race: you need to approach them privately. If you want them to trust you, you cannot use anon. If you must be on anon then you need to at least link them to trustworthy resources if you have them. Or at the very least be specific about what in the fic garners this accusation - because it might be something the writer can fix!

4. In my experience, with some exceptions, writers are open to discussing ways they can improve their racial sensitivity: but it needs to be presented as something actionable.

There need to be specifics regarding issues and examples. The Writing With Color Tumblr is excellent for this reason. Concrit about something as substantive as improving protrayal of race also needs to be respectful of the effort a writer puts forth to write stories. Because improving this might require a complete overhaul of the fic. Writers who hear these concerns from a respectul, trustworthy source are more inclined to actually improve how they write race. They will seek out a sensitivity beta or take your resources with the good faith intended. It of course is not POCs job to educate white writers - but if youre going to say something anyway and you want to do more than cause hurt - this is how you do that. With respect, under the assumption that this writer cares about the characters as much as you do.

Now regarding the fic in question: this was a new J/C writer, writing a kink fic. It was setting up, very excitingly for kink lovers, a well researched and nuanced portrayal of hardcore D/s kink. and the D/s as a lens through which to also explore some flipping of traditional gender roles. I'm not going to link to the fic because the writer doesn't deserve more harassment. But this is what they said about the content of the comments: (tw: for mention of suicide)

I am going to trust the writer that rather than educate or motivate her to write better POC characters, she just stopped writing the kink fic. And my comments were only intended to inform her that this trolling was very likely not genuine, nor the culture of most trek fandom in my experience. To me the comments and the escalation described here do not sound like a genuine outreach on race or homophobia. They, in fact, sound like the kind of classic trolling committed by right wing and russian troll farm style internet harassers. Bad actors who want to keep kink and sex out of fandom. My troll alert starts to go off especially when I hear that this writer is being harassed on multiple fronts over this fic. And that is what this is: internet harassment. Racism, homophobia, and other hurtful criticism used to push a writer off the internet. Whether the original commentor intended to raise awareness or not, they're doing it with all the tactics of classic bad actors.

There are actual ways to get racism out of fandom without bullying writers whose background and racial sensitivity you don't know.

Create or share rec lists of writers who write sensitive portrayals of race. Emphasize what these fics do well.

You can even create and share lists of fics to avoid on race - its helpful then to know what the issues are if you have the bandwidth: just for the love of god don't do it in the authors comments. and make sure to ask readers of your list not to harass the writers - bc thats not going to help anybody write race better. Too many bad actors use these accusations for other purposes. I am sorry, but no writer is going to assume you're being genuine.

Promote resources within fandom communities about how to write race well. Or that point out known issues surrounding the character. This helps writers and beta readers to look out for these things. As someone who does try to be sensitive to race - I look for these. I read them. I try to write a better Chakotay, for example, than the canon one we got in Voyager, who was written based on advice from a fake native american consultant (all Voyager fic writers are starting from a disadvantage on the racial sensitivity front bc our canon content sucks on race. It's either absent or presented terribly in canon.) By and large Voyager writers know that and if we understand how, we do make a good faith effort to write the shows non-white characters better than our 1990s source material does. Writers who don't understand how to improve just try to avoid race in their fics as much as possible - which is whitewashing and just as harmful to the cause of improving how race is treated in fandom. Comments from strangers on the internet are not where writers turn to find our trustworthy sources on race or any other culturally sensitive issue, which brings me back to my first point.

If you dont have the bandwidth to do any of the above - just block / mute the writer. Let someone else be their educator.

#these are just my thoughts as a white writer who has done the internal debate of “should i only write white characters” #and come out on the side of “i should be aware of race as much as possible in my work but it shouldnt prevent me from writing POC” #if i dont try then i dont improve #tw: racism #tw: mention of suicide

[zebulontheplanet]

TW: mention of suicide

Hey anon who recently posted about a tiktok video thats been going around about burnout. I wont be posting the actual ask question because i dont want to spread fear and the tiktok vidoe around which was leaked.  First of all, any creator that has their comments turned off in a video is a red flag. That means they’ve done and said things that arent agreeable and are even outright wrong. For one, she has no sources of anything that she said besides the word burnout itself. No medical papers, no nothing. 

Comparing burnout, something that you can recover from, something that you can get help with itself, to serious conditions like dementia and Parkinsons is not only insensitive, but wrong aswell. 

Yes, burnout can make you suicidal, there is no doubt about that. However i disagree with this video circling around so much i cant even really put it into words. 

I disagree with this video and i’d recommend doing your own research on burnout and regression. Thank you for the ask though and i wish you the best!

#long post #TW: mention of suicide #autism #autism burnout #autism regression

[sccoobydoobers]

Hyria is so fascinating to me… Like, she's the best friend of THE Lady Irene. As in the original one. She wasn't even reincarnated because really she spent SO. MANY. minutes of her life in the Irene dimension, pleading, begging her best friend to not basically kill herself.

(Most likely one of her last friends left, with Irene leaving there was no hope for her.)

Hyria spent so long in there that when she came back the trees in her sacred forest were hundreds of years old, that everyone she knew was dead. And for what? For a friend who couldn't even change her mind? For friend who instead would be living on in a new form, unaware of all the significance she had to the world.

So she settles, in the maybe 20-30 years she spends out the human world, Hyria gives birth to child along the way. She was there for that child so infrequently, but so often enough for Lucinda to know she had a mother (more importantly, that she could always be found) .

More than that, she would have even had to learn a whole new language of the world to stay there, to live on for Irene's sake.

She had to know and learn enough of a culture that she didn't grow up in, that constantly deifies and overlooks ALL of her friends, so she didn't stick out. so she would have the information she needed to roam the world as she wanted (how little she did).

And then. And then she returns forest. The forest that grew in her absence, who still loves her the same, who's seeds were hand sown by her, thousands of years ago and full of hope. Hyria has enough of a heart to let her daughter find her way in, but never for anyone else to find a way out.

(except for one. one lonely heart who's the brother of the new Esmund, shiny and new as a shadow in the dirt, in that second she saw him, Hyria knew he was the one)

#tw: mention of suicide #note: languages don't stay the same over the years #eg. shakespearan & current era english #a lot of these are guesses because the series wasnt even finished with the lore but i think its pretty realistic with where it was going #note that this is partly fanfiction because i havent rewatched mcd in a few months #aphmau #a lot of this is me being dramatic tho #aphmau minecraft diaries #mcd #aphverse #aphmau mcd #long post #kind of anyways #aphblr #mcyt #hyria mcd #vylad mcd #vylad ro'meave #lucinda mcd #lucinda aphmau #my post #character study #divine warriors #esmund the protector #irene the matron

[featheryhoe]

at least mj will be with u forever ig??

if i’m able to keep him from killing himself forever…

#tw: suicide #tw: mention of suicide #tw mention of death #tw death #tw: death #tw: mentions of death #tw mentions of suicide #tw suicide #suicide tw #mentions of suicide tw #mentions of death tw #death tw #tw

[dcxdpdabbles]

ok but imagine

batman with gun tim time travels to the past but instead of trying to seduce baby tim to the dark side he,,, ignores him

after all baby tim is young and pragmatic he'll realize that company policy is ineffective and kill people gets shit done

no bwg!tim has more important things to handle

like killing the ppl who murder his boo danny

and he knows exactly who to target

bonus points if tim and danny aren't dating yet

extra bonus points if they haven't even met yet

The plan was simple really. Time travel and start the correct way to handle criminals early. Take out the people that had taken from him the only person he really loved.

His past self was still running around trying to talk the Bats down from murderous rage, and while that itched, it was a lesson he needed to learn in order to finally wake up and properly get things done.

Tim saw no reason to track him down. He's stubborn as a mule, he can admit that, and his past self heartily believes that the crazy bastards should be locked away instead of put down. It would be ages before he could get close to getting him to listen to what Tim had to say.

Time, ironically, is not something he has to waste. The machine that brought him back had preset departer times. If he missed it then Gotham in ten years would be without it's Batman.

The carefuly iron control he has over the city would be questioned, and some fools would try to make a power grab in the sudden vaccum Batman had left behind.

So while it would take years for his past self to come to his senses, it would happen on its own, and Tim was alright with waiting for it. What he wouldn't allow to repeat itself was the death of his lover.

His plan involved killing the people that killed Danny. What Tim forgot in his grief was that those very people were the ones to raise Danny.

Yes, Jack and Maddie Fenton had killed their son in an accident. The ray gun that they designed had been faulty and had exploded in wide outburst instead of shooting straight.

It was meant to paralyze the ghost for capture.

Instead, it attacked ghost cores in horrific, fast-acting disintegration. Tim remembers the blast washing over him, the green ripples doing nothing to him as a human, and for a brief second thinking it funny that their gun was just a fancy light show, only to hear Jack Fenton's cry of celebration.

Then Danny's scream of agony.

His skin had been falling off, and Tim had been rooted to the spot watching his boyfriend, his lover, his entire moral compass melt before his eyes.

He had watched Maddie's smug face break into hysterical grief when Danny's ghost form vanished, and the sluggish body that fell to the floor with a splat had been her son. The two scientists had reached Danny first, and the fools had begged him to hold on.

As if they were not the ones to have done this, indirectly or not.

Danny's last words had been "I forgive you. I love you"

and then he was gone. In seconds his Danny was lost. He had died painfully, unfairly, and all because his parents had believed in their bigotry so purely they never saw reason to change their minds, even when there were signs their son was part of the group they loath so much.

The Fentons hadn't even been charged with Danny's death. It was deemed an accident; the worst they had to do was pay a fine for their blast, knocking out the power. All because ghosts were not protected under meta laws, and Danny was no longer recognized as human.

Tim hated them more than any villain in the world, hated that they lived well, Danny did not.

His own comfort was that they couldn't live with themselves either. Jack Fenton had taken his life the night after the funeral Jassmin had planned for Danny. Maddie Fenton had lost her mind, speaking to the air as though her husband and son were still there, and was moved to an asylum by a grief-stricken daughter.

There she died of a broken heart.

Tim took care of Jazz, he felt that Danny would have wanted him to, but she was never the same again. She was one of the first to agreed with him that Batman had to stop people before they went too far.

That thinking "they'll come around" was no longer an option. She made him the bullets for the gun that killed Bruce's parents, and she was the one that watched that same gun put down the Joker.

It was the first time she smiled in years.

All that hurt because of these fools.

Tim wasn't going to let them hurt anyone anymore. He aims his gun at the shaking forms of Jack and Maddie Fenton, their pathetic attempt to fight him off, were nothing comparied to his training.

He had them on their knees, bound to hold still, and with one push of his finger, the toxic outlook on ghosts would die with them.

But foolish-loving Danny wasn't about to let him put them in the ground where they belonged. The boy had thrown himself in front of them with a cry, throwing up a shield seconds before the bullets found their mark.

The Fenton couple gasped while Danny turned to them with clear worry. "Are you alright?"

Tim felt as if though he was kicked in the chest, seeing the boy- for he was a boy. How had he forgotten that his love died so young? Now with all the years under Tim's belt, did he truly see how pre-maturely Danny had died.

He was as beautiful as the day Tim lost him, but he was far too pure and innocent now. Tim's killing was a necessary that ruined him, while Danny remained kind and forgiving till the end.

He can't stop the rush of air that threathens to burn tears into his eyes escape him. Thankfully his training kicks in and Batman is able to shut everything that was Tim in his mind.

All that remain was the mission within human shape.

Danny growls, voice as cold as his ice core "Who are you?!"

"I'm Batman"

"Liar!" The boy hisses, thin pieces of frost growing around his green shield. "Batman doesn't kill!"

Tim scoffs, "Killing is the only way to stop more death."

Danny doesn't respond. He merely shoots a blast at him, momentarily dropping his shield, and Batman rolls away. He will overwhelm the boy and get him out of the way.

Then, he will do what he came to accomplish. Danny must know that, for he sees the moment, he shuts away his own human part and melts into Phantom.

The young ghost who took on a King for his people and became the hero that supported Red Robin above all else.

Phantom leaps at him, and Batman meets him halfway, each wearing emotionless expressions that promise a fight to the bitter end.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #dead tired #tw: mention of suicide #Tw: painful charater death #Batman with a gun #Dark #Tim of the future trying to kill the Fentons #The fentons died with their grief before #Danny doesn't even know Tim #Is it love or is it obession at this point? #I did the best I could I don't really know that comic plot well

[burntotears]

Title: The Texan Job W/C: 14,609 Summary: Deep Sky won't help collect the alien tech on just the mere chance that it might have been built by Nora, so the gang comes together to perform a heist in the middle of a mansion full of party guests. What could go wrong? A/N: Part 4 of Marriage Ain’t Easy TW: a passing reference to suicide, homophobic language and slur

[ AO3 Link or read under the cut ]

THE PLAN

“So let’s consider the options,” Kyle said, leaning back in the chair opposite of Alex’s desk and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Okay,” Alex looked up from the photos they had splayed out on his desk. They were of the ‘Truman tech’ they’d seen inside of Álvarez’s alien gallery. Still unconfirmed, of course, but for now it was easier to give it a codename and roll with it than to beat around the bush.

“The Lockhart machine had the piece of glass inside that had the information Patricia got from Theo, right? They basically downloaded it from his brain to pass it on to Dallas.”

“Correct,” Alex’s word was clipped, a little annoyed at recalling this information again. They’d gone over it a hundred times.

Kyle didn’t take offense. “But Jones also used it to put some form of call out. So obviously it has multiple functions. It works more like a computer than a phone. So shouldn’t we be able to put in other quote-unquote ‘disks’ and read them from the machine?”

Alex sat back, folding his hands together. “In theory, sure. I don’t know that Nora was really thinking of it that way when she built it, though. The point was to get that specific information to Dallas so there was a way to deal with Jones. I don’t think she was worried about smuggling anything else out after that.”

“Not then, sure.” Kyle made a move to put his feet up on Alex’s desk and aborted halfway through when he saw the look on Alex’s face. Alex kept his office tidy when he wasn’t in the middle of a project–old military habits die hard–and he wasn’t in the mood to clean scuff marks off the wood. “But if those pieces really are Truman tech, then they could be modifications for the original machine to allow that possibility. Once she was stuck in Caulfield, I highly doubt she expected to see Michael again–that was kind of dumb luck that it happened in the end. Knowing how resourceful she was, she very well could’ve been coming up with a way to get her own messages heard.”

“I dunno, maybe,” Alex rubbed his forehead with his forefinger and thumb. “That’s a far fucking leap to make on two complete unknowns. We don’t know if the pieces were made by her and we don’t know if they interface with the Lockhart machine. Which is not a great case to bring to the board for approval.”

“You really think they’d say no?” Kyle looked skeptical.

Eduardo wasn’t a bad guy and if it were up to just him, he would probably let Alex and Kyle chase rainbows to their hearts’ content. But Deep Sky was still an organization at its core and it had to get results if it was meant to keep functioning. “I think it will look as if I’m trying to use company resources to crusade for my husband on a case that is flimsy at best. Which is reason enough not to file; the last thing I need is for them to stop approving my assignments because they think I’m in it for my own benefit.”

“So I can do it,” Kyle said easily.

Alex offered him a sad smile. “You’re my best friend, Kyle. They’ll know you’re doing it for me.”

“So we’re just going to give up? Doesn’t sound like us.” He gave Alex an impish grin. They’d officially corrupted him if he was now advocating to get involved rather than being dragged into it by sheer necessity (usually of the medical variety).

There was no way Alex could leave it alone and they both knew it. Unfortunately, the solution was also going to bring its own set of complications. “No, we’re not giving up. But keeping him to task is going to be a fucking nightmare.”

Kyle snorted. “Should’ve thought of that before you married him.”

—

Alex wasn’t sure how Michael was going to take this. It had only been a few weeks since their Álvarez op, but he hadn’t told (or showed) him what they’d discovered there. His reasoning seemed sound in the beginning, but now that they were going to need help in obtaining the pieces, he wasn’t sure if that argument held much water. He wasn’t even certain how to broach the subject of what was there, let alone explain that he’d lied about having visual evidence of it all.

He had to thank small mercies that they didn’t have the bondprint active right now because Michael would smell the anxiety on him before he even got home from work. He would already be able to tell that Alex was wrestling with something while they ate dinner as it was. Except Alex noticed that Michael seemed to be acting a little strangely too.

“I need to show you something, but what’s going on with you?” Alex asked when it felt like the air in the room was stifling.

Michael looked at his plate for a bit longer before meeting his gaze. “So uh, I got accepted into the Engineering program at NMSU.”

“What?” Alex felt like he was missing part of a conversation they should have had, but he definitely would remember if they’d talked about this before. “When did you even – why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just… I didn’t know if I would get in and I didn’t want to bring it up if it wasn’t going to happen.” He looked sheepish as he spoke.

“Michael, that’s ridiculous. Of course you would get in. But I didn’t know you wanted to go. You never mentioned it.” Alex reached over to take the other man’s hand in his own. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” Alex was happy for him. Before Michael’s world was blown up by Jesse Manes and then Noah, Michael had plans to go to college. He deserved this. Something was itching at the back of Alex’s mind, though, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint the source.

Michael squeezed his hand and smiled. “I felt kind of weird about saying something. I’m in my thirties trying to start undergrad. I don’t know.”

"You're smarter than half the people there already. There's no reason to be embarrassed by some teenagers fresh out of diapers."

Michael laughed. "I took your virginity when we were those teenagers fresh out of diapers."

"Ew gross," Alex’s face scrunched up in disgust and he snatched his hand away while Michael laughed even harder. “Don’t ever say those words in the same sentence again.”

“It was your imagery, sweetheart.”

Alex got up to take their dirty plates to the kitchen, taking longer than was strictly necessary. He was definitely stalling. “What do you need to show me?” Michael asked from behind him and Alex sighed, nodding his head toward the coffee table where his laptop bag was sitting.

Once they both sat down, Alex tugged the bag toward himself and unzipped it, pulling the file folder out. “These are photos of the other tech that Álvarez has in his gallery.” He pointedly didn’t look over at Michael.

“What do you mean? I thought you said the recordings were scrambled?”

“They weren't,” Alex replied flatly. Equivocating would get them nowhere. If he was going to come clean, he needed to be completely honest now. “I didn't want to show them to you.”

“What's going on Alex?” Michael sounded worried, a little guarded, but he wasn’t angry yet.

“Kyle and I think that this tech could be related to the Lockhart machine.” Alex didn't set the folder down on the table. He had a white knuckle grip on it, grounding himself by staring at the discoloration of his fingers while he prepared for what came next.

“Related how?”

“The pieces could have been built by your mother.” Alex took a deep breath and waited. It didn’t take long.

“What the fuck, Alex?” Michael yelled as he shoved off the sofa and away from his husband, standing a few feet away now. Alex stared ahead, unable to meet his eye. “You weren't going to tell me?”

“No, I wasn’t.” God, why had he decided brutal honesty was the right idea here? It made him sound apathetic, but he wasn’t going to lie about his motivations. “We have nothing to base that theory on but our own assumptions, Michael.” Alex finally looked up at his husband. “And telling you was just going to agitate you when we’re literally making guesses about this right now.”

Michael threw his hands up, clearly feeling the very thing Alex had wanted to avoid. Though he knew it was directed at him and not the situation. “Then why the hell are you telling me?”

“Because there's no way for us to verify if it's Truman tech–”

“Truman tech?”

“It's just what Kyle and I started referring to it as. The Lockhart machine was built by Nora, hence Truman tech.” There was a complicated mixture of emotions that rippled across Michael’s face, but he didn’t say anything. “Anyway, Deep Sky isn't going to sanction us to go back on the hunch that my husband's mother might have built it.”

“Personal conflict of interest?” Michael scoffed derisively.

“Exactly. But there’s no way we can leave it there if there’s even the smallest possibility that Nora built it.” Of that his conviction was clear. He’d spent some time going back and forth, not just with himself but with Kyle, and the decision wasn’t really much of a decision at all. Alex was always going to retrieve that tech one way or another. “Which means we're going to have to get it ourselves.”

“I cannot believe this.” Michael was justifiably furious. Alex had told him that stealing anything from Álvarez was specifically off limits when he’d suggested the very same thing three weeks ago. “So now you do want to steal it.”

“It’s our only viable option,” Alex agreed flatly.

“And you want me to go with you.” Another thing that Alex had told Michael couldn’t happen because of his temperament.

“It’s our only viable option,” Alex repeated, with only a slight change in cadence.

“Well don’t make it sound like the eleventh-hour, Manes.” Michael sneered. Even so, he ran a hand through his messy curls and sat back down next to Alex.

Alex barely noticed the name considering the current conversation. He was in his tactical-Manes persona, after all. “You do have a tendency not to abide by mission directives. Or any directives, really.”

He saw Michael’s mouth tick up at the corner and rolled his eyes. He finally handed the folder over for his husband to pursue and waited patiently. Even though he knew Michael was still upset, he could see the immediate anger seeping from him, replaced with a determination to focus on a new target.

“So you got a plan?” Michael asked after a while.

Alex cleared his throat. “Part of one. Still working on the details. You’re not the only alien I would need help from.”

Michael glanced over at him. “Who?”

“We still haven’t gone on that double date,” Alex said a little smugly.

His husband’s only response was a groan of protest.

—

“How exciting! A real heist!”

Michael glared at his sister. “This is serious, Isobel.”

“I didn’t realize that being pleasant meant I couldn’t be serious at the same time, Michael,” she snapped back. “This is why Alex didn’t tell you. You’re incapable of rationality when it comes to Nora.”

Alex’s head shot up at the mention of him. This was definitely not what they needed to be talking about right now. Or ever.

“You’re getting into the middle of my marriage now?” Michael’s tone was icy and he took a few steps toward her.

Isobel wasn’t fazed. She’d been dealing with Michael all her life, after all. “I hardly need to. You do that well enough on your own.”

“Okay!” Alex cut in loudly, knowing this was going off the rails in a bad way. “This has nothing to do with the mission, so let’s just keep our personal lives out of the planning, shall we?” He looked sternly back and forth between the two siblings who took their sweet time in backing down.

Michael had been extra snippy with all of them and Alex knew it was his own fault more than anything. He shouldn’t have kept the information from his husband, but if he’d told him earlier, then there would be no planning phase and Michael could be dead from some half-cocked scheme he put together trying to get the tech by himself.

“Here’s what we know so far,” Alex plowed ahead, giving them no time to pick up any loose threads of their previous argument. “Álvarez is hosting an exclusive gathering at his mansion for gallery viewing. Only select clientele invited, of course, considering most of what he owns is illegal. Kyle and I are a known quantity, however, so Kyle was able to snag us invites.”

“Good job, baby,” Isobel patted Kyle on the chest and he preened a little from the praise.

“Yes, we’re all very proud of Valenti,” Michael rolled his eyes and Isobel shot him an annoyed look.

Jesus, this was like herding cats. Alex cleared his throat. “So that means we will be there legitimately and have access to the main gallery space, which makes half the job a whole lot easier. Unfortunately the alien gallery is connected to the main gallery, meaning we will have to slip inside while other people are there and he has two locks coded directly to him that we’ll have to bypass. I don’t know if he plans to show anyone that space during the party, but I’m leaning toward no. It would be better for us not to rely on him to get in anyway.”

Isobel's eyes were curious. “You don’t want to influence him to get in?”

“I’d rather not. If we could avoid him altogether, it’d be ideal. I’m already going to have to go in to deactivate the alarms on the pedestals, so I think it’s safer to spoof the lock mechanisms on the door through the computer system.” It wasn’t the best way to go about it, but the less they interacted with Álvarez, the better.

“What about some sort of alert for tampering with the system?” Michael asked.

“You’re going to have to help me sever some connections in the physical hardware at the same time that I spoof it–that should kill any alarms that would otherwise be triggered. It’ll be the same situation for the pressure plates on the pedestals.” Alex pointed at the columns he and Kyle had gotten pictures of that held up the artifacts in Álvarez’s alien gallery. It was a pretty simple system as far as museums went and normally they could just swap the weight out, but it wasn’t worth the trouble when they could cut the connections and be done with it.

“And how are you meant to get in without anyone seeing you?” Kyle asked.

“It’s funny you should ask that,” Alex grinned and his friend’s face deflated immediately. “You’re going to distract the party goers while Isobel influences any guards away from the area which lets Michael and I sneak in.”

“Distract them with what?”

“I have faith you’ll figure something out.”

Alex looked down his list of to-do items and addressed the next thing he had written down. “We can’t use any kind of radios to stay in contact–Álvarez has all frequencies locked down for his own people from what we gathered when our audio recordings were useless. Isobel and Michael can talk to each other and I guess Isobel could get into mine or Kyle’s heads if need be.” An idea occurred to him and he glanced at Michael. “We could use the bondprint again.”

Michael’s eyes widened and he was chewing on the idea, but Isobel furrowed her brows. “How would that help?”

“I’m almost positive we can communicate telepathically through it,” Alex said nonchalantly, as if that was something he and Michael had actually accomplished already. They’d used the print again, but they hadn’t managed anything that advanced. Still, something told him that they were easily capable of it.

“What the hell makes you think that?” Kyle asked, baffled.

Michael chuckled. “Because it’s Alex.” Truthfully, he’d expected Michael to think he was insane when he mentioned it as a possibility, but his husband didn’t think it was far-fetched at all. Michael gave him a curt nod. “Probably a good idea.”

The downside was if something went sideways during the op, their emotions were going to be looping and making it a little chaotic for them. Though maybe his calm could help Michael focus and stay on point, too.

“No, not a good idea,” Isobel snapped. “Lest we forget the last time you tried rooting around in the bond all willy nilly not knowing what you were doing, Michael. Alex, how could you even suggest such a thing?” Isobel’s wrath turned on him as well and he couldn’t help but cow a little. She’d been (disapprovingly) supervising when they tested it again to keep them safe. So far no disasters had occurred and Michael was successful in opening and closing the connection without issue now. Alex could manage it sometimes too, but it was more difficult on his end for some reason.

“Obviously we’d practice beforehand,” Alex tried.

“And what happens if one or both of you gets screwy somehow and you’re out of commission for the actual heist? We lose our window and then what?” Isobel had her hands on her hips, staring them both down like a bird of prey.

“Iz,” Michael was surprised by her anger. “My telepathy is great. There is no reason that it would screw me up.”

“But you don’t know if Alex’s mind could handle it,” she barked.

“He has no trouble in a mindscape. This is far less invasive,” Michael said slowly and Alex could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to parse what was bothering Isobel. “Why are you so against this?”

“You have no idea what it was like to walk into your house and find you like that, Michael!” Isobel shrieked and stalked out the back door onto the patio, Alex frowning behind her. Kyle began to follow her but he grabbed his arm to stop him and looked at Michael expectantly. His husband blew out a long breath and stood, going out the door and closing it behind him.

“I didn’t realize it was still upsetting her,” Kyle said quietly. “She hasn’t said anything about it since it happened.”

Alex shook his head. “I should’ve thought of that. It makes sense after Max died and especially now with him on Oasis. Michael’s all she has left here.” Isobel had scolded them, sure, but it had mostly been brushed aside with her insistence to oversee their practice.

“I think Max put too much pressure on her when he left. ‘Time for you to protect the family.’ Kind of fucked up, if you ask me.” Kyle watched the patio even though they couldn’t hear what the siblings were saying to each other.

“Oh it was definitely fucked up. His whole exit was egregious, most specifically the timing.” Alex couldn’t help but glare at an unseen person in his mind. Regardless of how ‘fine’ Michael and Isobel said they were, Alex could see the cracks. Some of them might never heal, even if Max did return some day.

Kyle’s eyes widened at the rancor he could hear in Alex’s voice. They hadn’t discussed this before, probably because both of their significant others said they didn’t resent Max for his departure. “Are you pissed at Max?”

“I don’t agree with the decision he made.” It was Max’s prerogative to leave and help Oasis and it was Alex’s prerogative to disagree with the actions he’d taken. He would absolutely criticize the way the man had left his siblings behind.

“Does Michael?”

“He says he’s at peace with it. He understands why Max had to go.”

“Gotta say,” Kyle eyed Alex in bewilderment, “I would’ve expected those roles to be reversed.”

“I live to confuse you,” Alex said sarcastically and Kyle flipped him off just as the other two came back in from the patio. The humans looked up at them apprehensively.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Isobel said first.

“What, no, you don’t need to apologize to me.”

“I do.” She sat down on the coffee table near him and took Alex’s hands in her own. He was still acclimating to Isobel’s affection toward him. He’d always thought that she hated him for what he’d put Michael through–and maybe she had in the past, but she’d seemingly moved past it. She had nothing but kind words and affectionate ribbing for him nowadays.

“I know that you and Michael didn’t purposely screw up when you started working with the bond. I realize that it’s my own fear of something happening to Michael now that Max is gone that’s making me overreact–”

Alex shook his head, curling his fingers around hers and squeezing. “Isobel, you did not overreact. I cannot imagine what it would have been like for me if I found him in that state.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Even so, I overcompensated by hovering over you two like your mother while you kept trying, dictating every little thing you did. And–” she glanced down at their hands, hesitating for a moment, before looking him in the face again, “I blamed you for talking him into trying it in the first place.”

“Isobel, what the fuck?” Michael yelled as Alex froze in place. Normally he was better at confrontation than this, but Isobel’s words were one of his own thoughts actualized. Kyle looked a little pale in the chair beside them. Whatever Michael and Isobel had spoken about outside, it had not included this if Michael’s reaction was anything to go by.

Michael moved as if to push Isobel away from him and Alex’s brain kicked back into gear. He held up a hand to keep Michael at bay. “Michael, it’s fine.” He squeezed Isobel’s fingers again to let her know he wasn’t upset with her.

“No it’s not.”

“She’s entitled to her feelings, no matter how unreasonable they might seem to you,” Alex said quietly and god did that hit close to home right then. He couldn’t help but glance over at Kyle who understood exactly what Alex was thinking.

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but Alex glared at him and was surprised that his husband bit his tongue.

“I know that Michael makes his own decisions and that he’s been trying to figure out how to heal for a while now. I suppose that your involvement with the bondprint gave me another place to direct culpability other than him. Since, y’know, he’s the one I’m scared of losing now that Max is gone.” Even though she was talking about Michael, she was still looking directly at Alex, her eyes a little glassy.

Alex understood. Fuck, he felt like he was on the road to Albuquerque again, his insides fracturing when Michael told him Max was leaving. He could nearly sense everything Isobel was feeling as she said it to him. He sniffed, only now realizing that he was tearing up too. “It might sound cliché, but I understand exactly how you feel.”

“Oh gosh, that’s not what I wanted for you at all,” Isobel started crying harder and leaned in to hug him. He held her tightly. “But it does help, in a strange way,” she said near his ear. Misery loves company. Maybe later when there was less to do, he and Isobel could talk a little more about this.

“What the hell is happening right now?” Michael was bewildered.

“Shut up, Michael. I’m hugging my brother,” Isobel said over Alex’s shoulder, “because I love him.”

“Yeah, so do I. I married him.” The answer came easily, even though he still sounded confused.

“He’s my best friend, I love him too.” Kyle chimed in.

Alex pulled out of the hug. “Now this is just getting weird.”

—

“Getting in seems to be the easy part. How the hell are we getting out?” Kyle looked over the blueprints Alex had procured of Álvarez’s mansion which they had spread out over Michael and Alex’s dining table.

“The only way I can see us being able to extract the tech without it being obvious is working down through the ductwork here.” Alex pointed at the ventilation duct stemming out of the second gallery room toward the downstairs.

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Neither of us is going to fit in there.”

“No, we won’t. You’re going to have to lower it through with your telekinesis. Kyle and Isobel will be at the bottom to retrieve it.” Alex glanced over at him to gauge his reaction because he knew what he was asking.

Isobel balked. “Alex, that’s impossible. How could he lower it through without being able to see it? It would either get banged on the walls or he’d drop it and it gets crushed at the bottom. Destroying it defeats the purpose of stealing it in the first place.” Michael’s face remained unreadable as she spoke.

“We can bring rope and lower it that way,” Kyle tried.

“No,” Michael shook his head. “I can do it.”

“Michael, the energy you would need alone would be outrageous. You’ll have already disabled the locks on the door and the pressure plates.” Isobel looked sympathetic, but her tone was no nonsense all the same. “There’s no way acetone would get you through that, much less the practicality of something you’ve never done before.”

“The bondprint,” Alex said.

“What about it?”

“You can get energy from me through it.”

“No way. I’m not doing that,” Michael shut it down immediately, which Alex had expected.

To his surprise, Isobel agreed with him. "That's not a terrible idea." He smiled at her and she returned the gesture.

"Yes, it is." It was Kyle now, which Alex hadn't expected. He probably should have, though, because Kyle was always going to see things through the lens of a doctor.

"I'm not stupid. It’s not like I would let him put me on my ass." Though he would need to practice more at closing the bond on his end.

“Oh okay. And what happens when things go south and we have to run out of there, Alex? You think after all that time on your prosthesis and with only half the energy you had before that you’ll be just fine to leave?” Kyle was in frank doctor mode now.

“Hey, fuck you, Kyle!” Alex spat back with a pointed finger at the other man, his blood boiling instantaneously. This was top of the list of things that fiercely pissed Alex off. “Don’t doctor-talk to me like I’m a goddamn invalid. I think I know my limitations a little fucking better than you do since I’m the one missing the fucking leg!”

Kyle shook his head derisively. “You know goddamn well that’s not what I was saying, Alex. Don’t pull your sanctimonious war-hero bullshit on me!”

“Kyle!” Isobel gasped, but Alex was… honestly impressed. Kyle had never called him out before and certainly not for something regarding his disability. They all knew Alex had a tendency to overextend his mobility to his own detriment. Michael was the most vocal with Alex about it, but with him and Kyle working together so much now, it seemed like Kyle was getting fed up.

His anger cooled and he held a hand up to Isobel, letting her know it was okay. Michael’s shoulders eased as well. “I get the concern. We will figure out exactly what he needs and test it to make sure I can handle it afterward, okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Kyle agreed, his own annoyance leveled. “I will be there to evaluate though.”

“Yes, Doc.” Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “I can’t believe you said that to me.”

“It felt pretty good, actually,” Kyle laughed. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

Isobel patted them both on the back and pushed her way between them at the edge of the table. “So assuming that works out, I’m guessing your plan is for me to get all the guards looking the other way as we walk our way out the front door?” She turned her head to Alex.

“If it’s doable? I don’t know the energy conversion for your powers very well.”

“If we’re talking a short nudge to look away just long enough for us to slip by, it wouldn’t be difficult. But it depends on how many guards we are going to run into.”

Alex figured as much. “That isn’t something we’ll know ahead of time, unfortunately. We can tell you how many we saw when we were there, but with so many guests, there’s bound to be a multitude more.” He also had no way of knowing where they would be posted during the party. He could canvas the mansion ahead of time, but he didn’t expect the guards to be at the same positions during a large event. “I’ll see if I can come up with an algorithm to plot the best route out depending on where and how many guards we’re dealing with once we’re onsite.”

That left one more loose end that he could think of. He turned to Kyle. “I know you’re going to hate this, but I need you to bring some backup in case we need to drop people if something goes wrong.”

Kyle blanched. “Seriously? Your dad had a stroke!”

“Nothing that strong, Jesus. They just need to be unconscious or paralyzed long enough for us to get the hell out of there. No comas, dude.” He preferred no deaths, if they could help it.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Kyle sighed.

“It’s going to be all the two of us have. There’s no way I can bring a gun inside. I could wrestle one from a guard, but I would rather not have to engage with them loudly. We have to expect the worst, though.” Alex checked over the table. “I think that covers the basics. Let’s get started.”

—

After Kyle and Isobel had left the house, Alex could feel Michael’s annoyance with him slip back into place like he was putting on a hat. It was fair, but they didn’t have a whole lot of time to dwell on these things. Alex sat down on the couch with his crutches nearby to start the process of removing his prosthesis while Michael was clearing things off the table.

“If you have more you want to say to me, we should get it out in the open,” Alex said matter of factly.

Michael snorted, but he didn’t turn around. “It’s not a business transaction, Alex.”

“It’s not, but we have a lot of shit we need to get done between now and then, which means we need to be on the same page.”

Michael pulled a chair from the table and sat backwards on it, arms folded on top of the backrest, facing Alex where he was on the sofa. “So if Deep Sky had approved getting the tech, would you have told me at all?”

“Before we had any sort of verification if it was legitimate? No, I wouldn’t have,” Alex said truthfully. He set his leg and liner aside and started to pin up the pant leg on his sweats.

“Right, because I’m ‘too irrational’ when it comes to my mother.” Michael’s tone was flat.

“Isobel said that, not me,” Alex corrected. “The reason I didn’t want to tell you is because I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” He paused for a second, remembering their conversation from earlier. “Sort of like how you decided not to tell me you were applying to school–or even mention you were interested in going at all.”

“Now hang on,” Michael started, caught out. “That’s completely different.”

“Oh, is it? Because you weren’t sparing your own feelings on the matter. Hell Guerin, I don’t even know how this is going to work. Are you moving to Las Cruces for four fucking years? Am I supposed to be moving there? It feels a little like something we should’ve discussed before you start classes in, oh,” he glanced at a non-existent watch on his wrist, “two months from now, is it?” When Michael had first told him, he’d been so shocked that the realities hadn’t fully set in for him. Now that they had, he was pissed.

Michael, for his part, looked apologetic. “Okay, you’re right. I should’ve told you. If you don’t want me to go–”

“I did not say that. Don’t you put that shit on me,” Alex snapped. “I’m pissed that you hid this from me and I have no idea what the hell is happening when you start school.”

Michael got up from the chair and moved toward Alex; he sat on the coffee table directly across from him, legs spread on either side of Alex’s own and put his hands on his husband’s thighs. “My classes will be online until the last couple of years when I have to do labs in person. We’ll figure out what we wanna do then, but for right now I’ll be going to school at the table right over there.” He tilted his head toward the dining table.

Alex took a deep breath and felt the tension in his chest ease immensely. He probably should’ve thought of online classes, but his brain was too wired to scream ‘change, change, change’ and the worst case scenario had popped up. “Shit, I’m an idiot.”

“No you aren’t. Completely valid concerns that I probably should have thought to address immediately when I told you.” Alex reached down and tangled his hands with Michael’s in his lap.

“Michael, there’s still a chance after we do this that this tech isn’t from your mother. We could be making a huge effort for nothing. Someone could have imitated the Lockhart machine, tried to build their own–”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re probably right to have held off telling me. Even now I’m champing at the bit to run in there without any plan whatsoever. So you weren’t wrong and neither was Isobel, really.” He squeezed Alex’s hands, looking a little lost in his thoughts. “Just the thought of having anything that she created fills me with fire, y’know? I want to get anything I can.”

“That’s why I am doing this. But I would hate to see your heart get crushed if it isn’t what we thought.” Alex reached up and brushed his fingers over his husband’s cheek.

Michael turned his face into Alex’s hand and kissed his palm.“Thanks, but I think I need to learn to be a bit more mature about these things. It’ll be a disappointment, but it shouldn’t be a crushing blow to my sanity. The upside is that regardless of how risky it all is, we’ll be training more and get new skills out of it.”

Speaking of which, after he and Kyle had started to argue about Alex’s energy levels, Michael’s objection to it had fallen to the wayside. “Are you going to take my energy through the bond?”

Michael laughed a little sourly. “Somehow I feel like if I didn’t, you’d find a way to force it through anyway.” Alex hadn’t considered that as an option, but if it could be taken, couldn’t it be given, and by force if necessary? “Great, I just gave you the idea, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t think of it as an option before, but you might be onto something.”

“You have to practice closing the bond on your end so that you can stop me. I won’t know how much to take.” Michael fixed him with a steady look. “And Valenti was right. You need to make sure you don’t overextend what you can actually do without.”

“Hmm, ‘Valenti was right’. Three words I never thought I’d hear you say.”

Michael took Alex’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “See, I know you’re trying to deflect with humor, but I’m serious here, Alex.”

Since when did Michael and Kyle have a united front? That wasn’t a double team he ever expected to see. “I got it. I’ll be responsible, I promise.”

THE HEIST

Fighting Isobel Evans for creative control of his wardrobe for the party was a losing battle. Alex tried explaining about functionality for the mission, usability for the tablet he needed to hide, even mentioned his prosthesis, but she had a rebuttal for everything. Eventually he just conceded because she assured him it would be exactly what he needed.

When his and Michael’s suits arrived two nights before the party, he had to acknowledge that she’d been right. “Don’t tell her that. She’ll wipe out your entire wardrobe,” Michael said with a laugh.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind going shopping with Isobel sometime. He honestly never expected to become close with her, but they spent more time around each other now that she and Kyle were dating. After Max left, Liz threw most of her energy into work so he hardly ever saw her. It had always been her coping mechanism, but he had to admit that he was contributing to the distance too thanks to his recent antipathy for Max. He still texted with Rosa on occasion and Maria was in and out of his life these days too. She split most of her time between working on her astral projection and the Pony, no longer as involved in the day-to-day alien adventures.

“I dunno about that,” Alex said. “I think I have a pretty decent style.” He’d been over the top in high school and too buttoned up during his first few years of enlistment under DADT. It was a year or so after when he finally found a happy medium between those two worlds that felt authentic. Weirdly, the suit Isobel had picked out felt perfect to him. She just had a way of understanding people.

“Definitely,” Michael agreed as he proceeded to unbutton Alex’s shirt for him.

He rolled his eyes. “Naked isn’t a part of my clothing style.”

“I disagree,” Michael murmured, sliding the fabric off his shoulders. “You want it on your chest?”

Alex nodded. “I think it feels stronger there. That might just be psychological, but if it helps, then might as well.”

“You’re the boss,” Michael said, which Alex opened his mouth to refute, but his husband already planted his hand in the center of his chest and tugged him forward with the other arm around his waist, kissing him openly.

It was a little awkward with Michael’s hand pressed between them, but he was distracted by the man’s mouth against his. Alex slid his fingers into Michael’s curls and cupped his neck, noting the slight tingle against the skin of his chest as he slipped his tongue into Michael’s mouth. The moment the bond connected they were both gasping and clutching each other tighter. They didn’t kiss for much longer; Alex pulled back and rested his forehead on Michael’s shoulder.

“You always feel fucking phenomenal inside me,” Michael murmured near his ear, making Alex snicker even though he knew Michael hadn’t meant it sexually. His love-amusement dripped steadily over through their bond.

Fuck you, Alex heard in his head and it only made him laugh more.

“Not everything’s about sex, Guerin,” Michael lamented, pulling out of the cocoon of their hug. Alex missed the contact immediately, but it wasn’t as gut-wrenching as it had been the first time they’d used the print. Once they’d figured out how to open and close the bond, the desperation for physical contact settled on an even keel between the two of them rather than yanking so hard on Michael. Sometimes Alex missed the codependence they shared those first few days, but he also knew it was heinously unhealthy and unsustainable for their sanity.

Says the man who called it a ‘fuckprint’, Alex shot back and Michael’s smirk was luminous. God, he made cocksure the sexiest thing in the whole goddamn world. Michael’s eyebrows lifted toward the ceiling when Alex’s desire made itself known; Alex glared at him and slammed the bond shut like a door in the face, causing Michael to chuckle.

“No one can say we aren’t prepared,” Michael drawled. Alex hoped he was right. He still felt a little wobbly about closing the bond. It was a constant pull to be near his husband whenever they were connected that made it difficult to shut him out. Something like this, as just a joke, was easy enough to accomplish, but their practice runs hadn’t been the most successful. Whatever he could feel that Michael needed, Alex wanted to give of himself, regardless of what it did to his own body or psyche. His promise to Kyle about not letting it put him on the ass had only been upheld twice so far in their dry runs. To say Kyle was irritated with him was the understatement of the year.

Alex packed the rest of his things in his laptop bag and zipped it closed. "You ready to head out? Isobel and Kyle said they would leave in a couple of hours. Kyle has a few things to finish at the office."

That gave Michael pause. "Are you two sure they aren't going to figure out what you're up to?"

"After the fact, yeah, they'll put it together. But being indispensable to the organization does come with a few perks. Asking for forgiveness and not permission, for one thing.” Out of anyone who had ever worked for Deep Sky, Alex and Kyle had the most firsthand experience with Oasians. They were the only ones with clearance from said aliens to interface in all aspects, so that had made them critically influential within the company since their tenure began. It had also gained them more freedoms, though they still weren’t designated as more than high level field agents–with their own offices due to unprecedented circumstances. “But I’ve taken precautions. I know how to hide from them.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “You don’t always use your powers for good.”

Alex never told Michael what he’d seen when he was hallucinating with the Lockhart machine. Considering Nora made it, Alex assumed that everyone saw her and that she spoke specifically to each person’s fears, but there was that nagging at the back of his brain that made him wonder if it had been different for him because of his relationship with her son. Was it his own fears she was speaking to, or did she not approve of Alex for Michael? Shit, he hadn’t thought about this in a while and it made his stomach twist.

“Let’s go.”

—

Alex set up their make-shift command center in the common area that connected the two hotel rooms in the suite they’d rented. It made things easier than trying to shuffle back and forth between two rooms and also looked less suspicious for the foot traffic.

“Were you able to find anything on Álvarez outsourcing for security?” Isobel asked, sitting down next to Alex on the sofa and offering him a warm cup of tea. He accepted it gratefully, along with the lack of harassment over his excessively paranoid setup in the room. The silent trip alarm for every possible entrance into the suite that sent notifications to his phone was a superfluous touch, even for him.

“No. I can’t track down all the accounts he’s got set up. He already closed the one that we wired the transaction to from Deep Sky, so he’s moving money around a lot.” He gave her an apologetic look. “I wish I could be more precise for you.”

Isobel waved him off with a flip of her hand. “Nothing to apologize for. I’ll have acetone on hand and Kyle has the ketamine on standby so if worse comes to worse, we’ll just put them to sleep for a while.” Alex didn’t want to know how Kyle had gotten ahold of ketamine–he knew from experience that it was heavily regulated because the Air Force had given him infusions while his stump was healing. They’d practically had the vials handcuffed to the doctors. With a hospital full of soldiers suffering from PTSD–many of whom might already be dying–self-administering your own death sentence could be an appealing prospect.

“Yeah, let’s just triple check that we have the dosages right on that before we go stabbing needles into anyone,” Alex said wryly.

Isobel patted his hand that was curled around the mug. “You know he’ll be careful. He couldn’t live with himself if he made that sort of mistake.”

“I know. I’m just nervous.”

“It’s as good a plan as we could possibly conceive, Alex,” she assured him.

“It’s not really the plan itself that concerns me,” he admitted, setting down the tea and mussing his hair, “it’s the crushing disappointment if this was all for nothing. Wasting everyone’s time, putting you guys in danger, and for what?”

“For hope, you idiot,” Isobel chided and shoulder checked him. “I don’t know why you and Michael think that hope is such a dangerous commodity.”

“Because when it doesn’t work out–”

“Anything in life can fail, Alex,” Isobel said, cutting him off. “You’re no Atlas; you can’t shoulder the burden of tribulations for everyone. We all need to have our own hope, even if grief is at the other end of it. Otherwise we wouldn’t be living our lives at all.”

Alex blew out a heavy breath and let her words wriggle into the corners of his mind that he kept cordoned off with remnants of Manes mortar. It wasn’t just wanting to protect those he cared about, but those ingrained exigencies to control every aspect of life he could touch. An overcompensation for a life of having someone else dictate who he was supposed to be–and a realization that he’d joined the military because the command structure was a well-worn groove in his psyche he could slot back into with ease.

He must have remained quiet for some time, because Isobel touched his shoulder and apologized. “Did I overstep?”

Alex shook his head. “I think you just said something that I needed to hear.”

—

Isobel was resplendent in her form fitting floor-length red dress that had a long sleeve on one arm and no sleeve on the other and one slit cut up to her thigh. Alex whistled appreciatively at her when she stepped into the common room, to which she smiled and Kyle told him to back off. The three men had well cut suits, all slightly different in style and color, complete with hidden pockets inside for smuggling necessities. “Here we go.”

They spent the first thirty minutes or so at the mansion meandering about the gallery and down the open halls, taking stock of security placements and relaying the information back to Alex. He had to excuse himself to a bathroom stall to input it into his tablet.

It looks like taking the side exit is going to be our play, he told Michael once his algorithm had finished calculating the best route. He traced along it with his finger as he spoke. Tell Isobel it’s seven guards–two at each set of doors when you leave east from the utility room. Outside door has one more guard, then two at the back entrance to the parking lot.

He felt a twinge of worry drift back to him. Fuck, that’s a lot.

It’s the best option to allow for shorter travel time. We can manually disable if we need to.

Michael was annoyed by something he’d said, but he didn’t explain what. Alex put the tablet back inside his suit jacket and returned to the gallery space where Isobel offered him a wink when he walked past on his way toward Michael. He slid his arm through his husband’s and pretended to look at the art with him.

“Iz and Valenti ran into Álvarez,” Michael murmured when he tilted his head toward Alex.

Alex only stiffened slightly. “It go okay?”

“Iz can make anyone fall in love with her,” was Michael’s response and Alex had to agree.

Give her the go ahead, Alex sent, taking one deep breath to prepare himself. He only hoped their preparation had been enough to make this successful against any unforeseen circumstances.

They remained at their corner of the room, moving slightly as if they were checking out another piece when the sound of glass breaking and a shocked scream filled the gallery. Alex frowned, glancing toward the noise like the other patrons.

“Oh god! What’s happening to him?” a woman was shrieking over a man who was clearly seizing on the floor. “Someone help him!”

“I’m a doctor!” Kyle said, rushing toward the man, while Isobel covered her mouth in concern. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw the guards posted at the alien gallery entrance begin walking toward the scene that was unfolding, so he and Michael started to inch in the opposite direction.

Alex was pulling his tablet out when he heard one of the guards speak behind him, his heart falling into his stomach. “Give the doctor some room, everyone.” Alex’s breath wooshed and he closed his eyes for a moment before directing his attention to the tablet.

He had prepared the code he needed to add to the security system ahead of time, it just needed to be put in place and executed in sync with Michael severing the wires inside the physical device. Once it was pasted in the correct position, he looked at Michael, who nodded that he was ready.

“Oh god, he’s going to die!” the woman lamented loudly behind them.

“Ma’am, please step back and let me examine him,” Kyle responded in a firm tone.

Three… two… one… go. Alex hit execute just as Michael’s brow creased in concentration and the glowing handprint scanner turned off completely without any fanfare. Anticlimactic, but effective.

Alex prepared the code for the eye scanner, while the woman behind them wailed indiscriminately. When they were both ready, he counted them down again and the eye scanner went black just like the handprint scanner. The door won’t get a signal to disengage so you’ll have to pop it open.

Michael gave a curt nod and there was a small snick as the door gaped open. Alex stuck his fingers through and pulled it just enough to slip inside, Michael following. He heard, “So he’ll be okay?” from the other side of the door just before it shut again.

Alex lifted his arm and started a timer on his watch for fifteen minutes. “Southwest corner first.”

There were six pieces of Truman tech they were going to remove, all placed on separate pedestals. Alex’s original plan was to disengage the alarms all at once, but he was worried about the internal wiring system. They could be spidering out from one central line, but had no schematics that would give a proper choke point to cut at. It was deemed too risky, so they were cutting at each pedestal instead. It would take longer, but there was less chance of failure.

As they moved to the southwest pedestal, Alex could practically feel the drag of Michael’s eyes over the two pieces of alien glass that they had not allotted time to retrieve. “No, Michael.”

“Alex…”

He prepared the code for the piece in front of them and looked at his husband expectantly. “Are you ready?”

To his credit, Michael refocused on their task and nodded. “Three… two… one… go.” Alex pressed execute and Michael severed the wiring to the pressure plate. There were no visual cues here to know that their work was done, which was a little disconcerting.

“Did it work?” Michael asked, his worry slipping into Alex’s chest.

“We did it correctly,” Alex said in lieu of a real answer. “South,” he designated the next pedestal, preparing his next code snippet and moving to the corresponding piece of tech. They repeated the same process for the south and southeast pedestals before Alex checked his timer. Ten minutes left.

“Northeast. Are Isobel and Kyle in place?” It was almost like a dance: grab the code snippet, stand in front of a pedestal, count Michael down, execute the code, side-step, grab the code snippet, stand in front of a pedestal…

“Yes, they’re ready.”

Alex hummed to show he’d heard. “Three… two… one… go. North.” Once they had finished north and northwest, Alex shoved his tablet back into his jacket pocket. This was the real moment of truth. If they picked up this tech and the alarm went off, they were officially fighting their way out of here and he didn’t like their odds.

He held his breath and slowly lifted the piece off the plate. The plate was still depressed as if the weight was never removed. Relieved, he gathered two more while Michael got the other three. “Acetone?” he asked when they’d gathered the pieces in front of the vent.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed and pulled a bottle from his pocket, downing half the contents. He pulled the vent off the opening with his telekinesis and sent it to Alex who set it aside.

“Two at a time? I think three is risking hitting the walls of the duct,” Alex said when he glanced inside the vent opening.

Michael stuck his head in to gauge the size better. When he backed out he nodded his agreement and rapped his knuckles on the inside of the ductwork once. They heard an answering knock moments later. “Ready.”

Alex moved back a bit to give him room and watched as his husband lifted two of the pieces at the same time, carefully directing them through the vent hole and downward until they were no longer visible. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and Alex found himself holding his breath and standing stock still, afraid to do anything that might distract him.

Moments later Michael’s face softened and he took in a heaving breath, tottering backward a little. Alex was there quickly, hand at the center of his back to keep him steady as a knock sounded in the duct again. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” Michael drawled, already sounding tired.

“Can you do the next one or do you need some energy now?” He was tempted to tell Michael to take it now anyway, but he trusted him to be responsible with this.

“I got it. Can you stay here though?”

“Of course.” Alex kept his hand splayed on Michael's back for support, his husband shooting him a grateful look before rapping his knuckles in the duct to indicate the next transfer was beginning. He carefully lifted two more pieces of tech with his mind, easing them down and out of sight through the ductwork and into the waiting fabric net Isobel and Kyle had fashioned below.

When he released his hold on them he stumbled again so Alex wrapped his arm around his waist, placing his chest against Michael’s back. Alex took the other man’s hand in his own. “Take it,” he said.

“Alex, I–”

“Now, Guerin.” His tone must have done it, because Alex could feel that strange tug beneath his skin start almost immediately. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it and he didn’t want to make a habit of it, but he was glad the possibility was there if they needed it. It was just like he’d imagined it would feel if a vampire was draining his blood–like the life was being sucked right out of him. No, he definitely would never get used to it. Once he felt Michael’s frame straighten more and his own body slackening, he snapped the bond shut (thankfully without incident).

“Thanks,” Michael said with real gratitude that Alex didn’t need a bond to feel. He knocked into the air duct again while Alex leaned against the wall nearby, watching him repeat the same process for the last time. He felt winded, but he’d be fine to get out. Alex heard the last echoing knock come through the ductwork when Kyle and Isobel had received the last two pieces and Michael relaxed, pulling out his bottle of acetone and draining the rest of the contents. Two minutes left on the clock, Alex saw when he checked his watch. They were cutting it close.

“Isobel says the guards are at the other end of the gallery still, but they haven’t seen Álvar–”

The door slammed open behind them, startling them both so badly that the bond reopened without any conscious effort. It could’ve been caused by a deluge of adrenaline or just an automatic preservation instinct they couldn’t control. Regardless, there was a flood of fear looping between them that wasn’t going to improve their situation.

Alex wasn’t surprised to see Álvarez walk through the door flanked by two guards–they must have been from another area of the mansion and were untouched by Isobel. The guards stopped at the door once it closed while Álvarez moved closer to them.

He made a tutting noise when he looked at them and shook his head. “I knew there was something suspicious about Dr. Valenti’s very loud proclamations of assistance for Mr. Doyle’s condition. Even more when the man just miraculously stopped convulsing after a few minutes. But I thought, ‘what reason would a doctor have to cause someone to seize, only to stop it not long after’? A distraction, of course!” He clapped his hands together as if he was having a good time recounting the story.

Alex took a deep breath and stuffed down his fear. He needed to keep them both composed if they had any chance of making it out of here with no bullet holes. Do not speak to him, Alex warned Michael, his face impassive as he stared ahead at Álvarez.

“It only took a cursory glance at the cameras to notice the two of you were missing.” Álvarez stepped through the room, merely wandering around as if perusing his own gallery rather than confronting two thieves. His suit was perfectly in place, white with a gray pinstripe, the top two buttons undone on his undershirt and yet somehow he still looked professional. He knew how to carry himself with the authority that made people want to fall in line–Alex only now realized that the man was former military. He hadn’t found any reference to that in the research he’d done, which meant his record was scrubbed. Why?

What is it? Michael had noticed the uptick in Alex’s heartbeat.

He was military, but he has no record.

Michael stiffened slightly. We know what that usually means.

Fuck. The implications were too much to even consider right now. They had to get out alive before he even entertained the idea.

“I had high hopes for you, Captain Manes, despite your… proclivities.” He wrinkled his nose as he looked at Michael. “The Air Force has its limitations, as your father discovered, so when I found out you joined Deep Sky after your brother killed Jesse, I thought surely his plan is to infiltrate and use their resources to gain information otherwise unavailable through the military. A way to carry on the legacy that his misguided brother cut short.”

Alex… They had to be in a parallel world if it was Michael trying to temper Alex’s fury right now.

Alex balled his fist, his fingernails digging half-moons into the flesh of his palm. I know. He’d be giving the literal meaning to biting his tongue soon if this kept on much longer.

Álvarez continued meandering around the room as he spoke. He hadn’t spared a single glance for the empty pedestals, which made Alex uneasy about their validity. “After meeting you the first time, I can’t say I was convinced. You’re petulant, that much is obvious, but you still have a backbone at the very least. Malleable enough, in the right circumstances.”

Malleable? For what his father had been doing in Project Shepard? Was this really the man who was in charge, or was he just another rung on the ladder?

“Knowing that Deep Sky has the Lockhart machine, I was expecting you to contact me after you saw the other tech in my gallery.” He gave an exaggerated weary sigh. “My own folly was not connecting the dots fast enough between the purchase Deep Sky made and the missing tech from the facility that was raided months ago.”

Fuck fuckity fuck.

“But I don’t think Deep Sky is sanctioning raids,” Álvarez said slowly, turning his head to look at Alex. “So then why did they want that piece of tech in particular instead of, say, this alien glass?” He waved toward the other pedestals. “It was innocuous, as far as alien technology goes. Unless someone already had another part of the puzzle to interface with it…

“Once I realized it was you, Captain Manes, interfering with Project Shepard… well you can imagine my disappointment. How your father would be rolling over in his grave.”

Alex wanted to laugh because that was exactly what he hoped for–his father’s perpetual torment in hell while he watched Alex dismantle his life’s work. He hoped his father got dizzy from all the rolling the man did in his grave.

“But then I discovered that you don’t care about that. You have no love for your father, your family legacy, no love for anything of worth.” At this he sneered toward Michael, before fixing his eyes on Alex again. There was anger rising in both of them, but Alex was trying to tamp it down. There were still armed guards standing by the door.

“You see, you were never fit to wear the uniform and certainly did not earn the title the Air Force threw at you. You have only reinforced the fact that a faggot doesn’t understand the meaning of honor, is incapable of conducting himself with dignity, and has–” They didn’t hear whatever else Álvarez planned to say, because Michael descended on him faster than Alex had ever seen him move before.

“No, Michael, stop!” Alex reached out for him too late.

Michael’s fist collided with Álvarez’s nose so hard that Alex heard something snap and the force knocked the man back a few steps. The guards moved toward them immediately and Michael used his telekinesis to throw them back into the wall so forcefully that their heads made contact and they were knocked unconscious on impact, sliding down like ragdolls.

Michael’s next attempt at a punch was blocked by Álvarez’s forearm and the man pushed his husband away. “Oh, Jesse suspected but I thought he was just blinded by his disgust for you, Alex. I should have known your depravity ran so much deeper. You wouldn’t be satisfied with the average trailer trash, no your scatological nature craves an equal in vulgari–”

“Shut up!” The words hit Alex harder than he wanted to admit. Usually he could handle the taunting, but there was something about the way Álvarez was talking about Alex and Michael together that caused Alex to lose the last shred of control he’d been holding onto. His hands were balled into fists, his face tight in outrage, and he closed his eyes as he screamed the words.

Álvarez shut up. He shut up because his body flew back and slammed against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Even though Michael was overexerting his powers, Alex couldn't help feeling pleased that he’d thrown the man.

Except now Alex’s brain felt fuzzy, his knees were wobbling, the room was spinning, and he was definitely falling to the floor. “Alex!” Michael caught him before he managed to knock himself out by hitting his head on the ground.

Álvarez was stirring, finally regaining his breath as Michael eased Alex down. “Give me a second.” Alex was only dimly aware of what he was doing–most likely jabbing a syringe filled with ketamine into the man’s neck before he could regroup. Álvarez slumped back down a few seconds later and Michael was next to Alex again.

“What did you do?” Michael asked, concern-confusion seeping through all of Alex’s pores.

“What are you talking about?”

“You need to take some of my energy.” Alex could only assume that Michael’s outburst had overtaxed him through the bond somehow. Whatever caused it, they needed to leave and Alex couldn’t function like this, so he did what Michael suggested.

He grasped Michael’s hand tightly and concentrated on pulling back his ability to stand and think and escape this hellscape. His head was mostly clear when he felt the flow abruptly stop and Michael fell back from his crouch onto his ass. He pulled out another bottle of acetone and drained it completely. It didn’t make him look much better than before. “Shit, you don’t look good,” Alex noted.

“Neither do you,” Michael teased.

“Kyle and Isobel,” Alex said abruptly and turned over onto his hands and knees to push himself into a standing position.

“They’re still in the utility room freaking out.” Michael gestured over to Álvarez. “What are we gonna do with him?”

“Nothing. He’ll wake up eventually. We need to go.” Alex started toward the door.

“Alex, you can’t be serious. He’s obviously involved in Project Shepard. We can’t just leave him here!” Michael’s scared-desperation cut into Alex a little, but they didn’t have time to deal with it right now. “He’ll come after us!”

“They always do, Michael.” Jesus, why was that so common that Alex felt unaffected when he said it? “We will deal with it, but we have to leave. Now.”

“Fuck!” Michael yanked at his curls, but Alex felt him cooperating. Alex got the door opened enough to peek out into the gallery hall. It was deserted; Álvarez must have sent the party goers to the dining hall so he could march Michael and Alex out without upsetting the guests.

Just as he stepped out of the door, an alarm blared to life overhead. There was no way Álvarez would have activated a motion alarm when he expected to leave the room again, so what had tripped it? Michael appeared next to him in the doorway holding a piece of alien glass in each hand.

“Fucking Christ, Guerin!” Alex didn’t bother keeping his voice down–the klaxon was loud but his anger was louder. Guards would be headed to their location now, so they didn’t have time to do anything but run. Alex grabbed one piece from Michael so he had a free hand, then they headed to the stairwell exit of the gallery hall which exited right next to the utility room downstairs.

Unfortunately Alex wasn’t at his best and there was no way he could move down the stairs quickly. “Need to bar the door somehow.”

Michael waved him on. “Get going, I’ll handle it.” His husband was already searching the nearby landing for something useful, so Alex started his slow descent down the staircase. His stump was already protesting every movement, but he pushed forward anyway, gritting his teeth against the bright spots of pain and ignoring the obnoxious voice of Kyle in his head telling him ‘I told you so’. Alex was halfway down when Michael caught up with him. “I wedged a broom handle in there, but it’s not going to hold for very long.”

Alex didn’t have the space in his head to make it down the stairs and answer Michael at the same time, so he didn’t say anything. He did raise his hand against any protest before returning both hands to the railing. Michael didn’t argue; he jogged down ahead and opened the lower door, looking back and forth down the hall and giving the all clear. “I’ll go get Isobel and Valenti,” and he was gone. Alex finally let some tears escape even though it didn’t relieve any of the pain. It at least felt a tiny bit cathartic in the coffin of the stairwell.

He’d reached the first floor landing just as all three returned to the door.

“I’d ask what the hell is going on, but I don’t think we have the time,” Kyle said sardonically. Alex followed them to the first set of double doors while his stump screamed in agony.

“Definitely not. Isobel are you ready?” Alex ignored the worried look she raked over him.

“Yes, I think so. It will need to be a short time for each or I won’t make it.”

“Just have them face away from us as we pass and then release them completely facing the other way. Hopefully we’ll be out of line of sight by the time they turn around again. If not… we’ll handle it another way.” Fuck, Alex was in no condition to handle anything and it showed. He was going to slow their movements by half and make Isobel have to influence them twice as long.

Kyle shook his head. “I’ll be the asshole–you’re going to slow us down and there’s no way she can influence them long enough.”

“Christ, I know,” Alex groused, rubbing his forehead as he tried to reformulate a plan. “Isobel, can you manage to get the two at the parking lot to leave and we will–”

The double doors crashed open and they were greeted with a group of four guards at once; Alex assumed they were the two groups they were meant to pass in the hallway first. “Drop the art.”

“Guerin, guns. Don’t kill anyone.” Alex said and held a hand out expectantly.

The guards looked at him like he was a moron just as all their guns flew out of their hands, one pistol landing in Alex’s hand and one in Michael’s. The rest went sliding across the floor behind them. Alex shot three of the guards in the left shin in succession, each dropping to the floor on impact. Michael shot the last one in the thigh.

“Can you guys carry this glass too?” Alex and Michael handed over the pieces of glass. “Let’s move.” They had to pick their way through the groaning guards but at least the hallway was a straight shot to the exit now, so long as they could make it before more guards showed up behind them.

Alex tried to pull all his focus into his hands wrapped around the gun and not the excruciating pain that radiated up his thigh and into his hip. He was mostly unsuccessful at that. It felt like he was stuck in one of those nightmares where no matter how far you walked, the exit just kept moving away from you. His head was beginning to ache along with his lower body in a redoubling effort of torture.

They did reach the single door eventually, Michael going out first and clocking the butt of his gun against the temple of the guard right outside. They filed out as quickly as Alex could manage.

“I can go ahead, drop the guards, and pull the car to the sidewalk,” Michael suggested.

“No,” Alex shut down. “We stay together. We’re not taking any chances.”

“He’s right, Michael,” Isobel said in that tone that allowed no arguments.

His husband didn’t respond, but he didn’t make any moves, either. They remained quiet after that, moving as a unit toward the back entrance of the parking area. When the guards came into view, both facing away from the group, Alex shook his head at Michael. Hold until I say.

Michael nodded and the other two looked sideways at them, concern on their faces when they kept moving forward and neither of them were shooting. As they approached, Alex heard the sound of a video playing–both men were engrossed in whatever they were watching on the screen of the phone. Alex held a hand up for Kyle and Isobel to stop and mimed to Michael as they crept up behind them. They lifted their guns and dropped them down hard against each man’s head in unison, the phone clattering to the ground as they crumpled forward.

Alex bade the couple follow and they kept moving into the parking lot. He was momentarily disoriented when he couldn’t find his Explorer until he remembered they had rented a vehicle because he wasn’t stupid enough to drive his own car to this op. He felt stupid from pain right now, though. Michael wordlessly dug the keys from Alex’s pocket and unlocked the rental, waving Alex to the passenger seat, which he wasn’t going to argue. Once the tech was safely secured and everyone was inside, Michael started driving them out.

“Don’t speed once you leave the driveway,” Alex informed him, his head heavy against the window. He was legitimately going to pass out from the pain. “Close the bond.”

“Alex, you’re practically unconscious!” Michael glanced over, his desperate-concern eating into Alex’s chest.

“And you need to stay focused on driving.” There were a few more moments of worry before it shut down and Alex’s world went blissfully dark.

THE DEBRIEF

When Alex regained consciousness he was in the bed at the hotel with an IV in his arm. How the hell they managed to get him all the way here while he was dead weight, he had no idea, but he was grateful nonetheless. His grunt came out like a question because he didn’t feel the pain from his stump anymore.

Michael sat down next to him on the bed and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

“How long was I out?” he croaked and then cleared his throat. Michael grabbed him some water which he accepted, leaning up a little to drink a third of the contents before his mouth felt normal again.

Michael took the water back when Alex was finished. “Couple hours. Kyle gave you a little bit of ketamine for the pain.”

Alex groaned and dropped his head onto the pillow. “Kyle, that shit can give me hallucinations without proper anesthesia, you fuckwit!” he yelled at the ceiling.

“It’s either the possibility of hallucinations or debilitating pain, jackass!” Kyle called back with zero sympathy.

“His bedside manner really sucks,” Alex pouted, causing Michael to grin at him. Alex held up a hand to Michael’s face, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone. “How are you doing?”

“Better than you. Jesus, Alex.”

“I know,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You really, really don’t.” Michael’s eyes were bright and wide, staring at Alex like he’d never met him before.

Alex’s concern heightened instantly. “Did something happen? Is everyone alright? Did they fi–” He made a weak attempt to sit up, but Michael eased him back down with a hand on his chest.

“No, everyone is fine. It’s not that. When you can get out of bed, we’ll go over everything. You should get some more rest.” His voice was soft but firm.

Alex’s first instinct was to argue that he was ready now, but after the fiasco at the mansion, it would be absurdly irresponsible of him. His body needed the rest, even if he was missing context for something. “Okay.”

Michael feigned shock and Alex rolled his eyes, getting comfortable again. His husband gave him a kiss on the forehead before he left the room.

—

When Alex woke up next he could hear Isobel and Michael in the common room.

“Michael, that’s impossible.”

The IV was out of his arm and his crutches were leaning against the table by the bed.

“Iz, I’m not an idiot. I know what I saw.” Michael sounded exasperated, like he was tired of reiterating this.

Alex pushed himself upright on the bed, one foot on the floor, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before reaching for the crutches.

“I know you like to think that you and Alex have this cosmic connection, but even the two of you can’t defy reality.” It was obvious she was attempting to be conciliatory, but was finding it difficult to indulge him.

Alex got the crutches under his arms and made his way into the other room. “Who’s defying reality now?”

“Alex, hi. You look a lot better,” Isobel smiled far too wide at him.

“I know you were talking about me. What is it?” He levered himself over to the sofa next to Michael and sat down, looking between the two of them.

“Michael’s under the impression that you… used his powers when Álvarez found the two of you in the alien gallery.” Isobel spoke slowly and concisely like she was trying to soften the blow of bad news.

Alex scoffed. “What? That’s impossible.” He turned to Michael, expecting some sort of smirk or laugh but his husband’s face remained serious. “Michael?”

Michael put his hands on Alex’s thigh, his voice even and eyes soft. “When Álvarez kept saying all that homophobic bullshit and you screamed at him to stop… you threw him against the wall, Alex.”

“No I didn’t, that was you.”

“I didn’t do anything. Why do you think you collapsed right after?” Michael moved his thumb back and forth on Alex’s thigh as he tried to parse the scene in his head.

“B-because you had already used so much energy, you overextended…” he said, sounding uncertain even to his own ears. At the time, Alex assumed that Michael had unintentionally pulled energy from him to throw Álvarez.

Michael shook his head slowly, squeezing his thigh. “Alex, I gave you energy afterward because you needed it. I was fine.”

Alex’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “That’s–that’s not possible…”

Isobel held a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she absorbed the significance of this conversation.

“How would I be able to do something like that and not even know?” Alex asked skeptically. The pod squad all had control over their powers; they used them intentionally and knew that it was happening when they did.

“When we were younger,” Michael started slowly, “we had trouble controlling our powers when we got angry or scared. Alex, when Álvarez was talking, you were… enraged. I could feel you through the bond, you just… you lost total control of yourself. I have never seen you do that before.”

“Oh my god, Michael,” Isobel gasped. “He really did use them.”

Alex’s jaw was hanging limp, his mind trying to process something that shouldn't be possible. “Holy shit,” he whispered and a few moments later, a little louder, “Holy shit.” Michael was right about him losing control from the enmity that Álvarez had stirred inside him. He always tried to keep a tight lid on that part of himself, to not stoop to their level because he knew they were inherently fanatical, but god the way he had spoken about Michael and their relationship–it had broken through the vestiges of Alex’s composure.

Kyle appeared from the other bedroom, drying his hair with a towel, joining in the conversation like he’d been there the whole time. “Wait, so that’s why your leg was in such bad shape? I thought you gave him too much energy in your usual self-sacrificing schtick.”

Alex flipped him off, sufficiently pulled from his meandrous thoughts. “I did it the same way as we practiced.”

“You hardly managed it when we practiced,” Kyle pointed out unhelpfully.

“I liked it better when you wouldn’t challenge me because you were afraid of offending me,” Alex deadpanned, startling a laugh out of Michael next to him.

“Sorry, bestie, that catharsis has already come and gone.” Kyle clapped him on the shoulder before sitting down on the arm of the chair Isobel was in. “So does this mean you’ll have alien DNA now like Rosa and Maria?” Kyle didn’t sound excited to add a new alien-human hybrid to his collection of peculiar patients.

“I don’t see why. If anything it would be analogous to a conduit of sorts. Powers come from him, flow through the bond and out through me.” Alex said it as if it made perfect sense when it absolutely did not. None of this made any sense.

“I’d agree with that if it wasn’t for the energy consumption,” Isobel intoned thoughtfully. “Michael said he was fine and it was only you that had collapsed. If the energy had come from Michael then it would have left him weak.”

Alex put his head in his hands and felt Michael squeeze his thigh. This was preposterous. He couldn’t just be telekinetic through the bond. He was human, he didn’t have any of the necessary biology that made it possible. There was no way–

“We’ve been using telepathy, Alex. Both ways.” Michael’s words were careful, like he was afraid to spook the horse. He was right, though Alex hadn’t thought about it that way until now. When he spoke to Michael through the bond, it didn’t feel like he was using telepathy himself. He had thought of it as an extension of Michael working through him. But had it been the opposite the whole time–Michael giving Alex the capability to work through him?

Shit. The bondprint was a fucking powerprint, too.

—

The only way to take his mind off the fact that he could apparently use alien powers if he was connected to Michael was to focus on the mission. The extremely, horrifically, shamefully botched mission. Owed partially to the fact that Álvarez had them figured out from the get-go, but also because Michael had gone off-script. Again.

On the one hand, they did get the tech. On the other hand, they created a new enemy. Alex wasn’t sure if that was a balanced trade.

“I understand that Álvarez got suspicious of the distraction,” Kyle said while they were gathered in the common room later, “but you said that he and the guards were unconscious when you left the gallery. So what set off the alarms?”

Alex raised his eyebrows and turned to Michael. “What did set the alarm off, Michael?” he mocked.

“Look, we didn’t have the time to disengage them and there was no way I was going to leave them there with that bastard.” Michael didn’t look apologetic. “You heard the things he said, Alex.”

Of course he would never forget the things that man had said. They were burned into his mind inside the corner where his memories with Jesse Manes festered. It almost felt like they were one and the same. “It wasn’t part of the mission, Michael.”

“Neither was Álvarez finding us in there!” Michael replied, agitated.

“And we adapted to that situation and overcame the obstacle.” Not as well off as they should have been, but still on the positive end of things. “We had a clear path to leave the way we had originally intended to and you introduced new variables that put us all in danger.”

“Alex, that’s not fair. The whole point of these raids is to dismantle Project Shepard, to remove alien tech from–”

“This wasn’t a raid. This was a clear-cut heist, planned for an explicit set of items during a very distinct time frame.” Alex spoke in monotone weariness. “This was a plan that you agreed to adhere to in advance for the safety and success of the mission and its participants.”

Michael stood up, throwing his hands in the air. “This isn’t a fucking military platoon, Alex! I’m not a goddamn soldier who’s going to take orders from you!”

“Michael–” Isobel tried.

“They were never orders, Michael. We had an agreement and you broke it.”

Michael scoffed even though he looked uncertain now. “No–no I didn’t.”

“We had just found out that Álvarez was involved with Project Shepard, was extremely dangerous, and you were revealed as an alien to him,” Alex’s words were calm and level, but he was glad that the bond was closed because he was having trouble keeping his irritation in check. “The both of us were physically compromised, myself to an inordinate degree, and you were aware that lifting the glass would set off alarms and make our escape riskier than it already was.”

Michael was flagging with each word Alex said, eventually sitting down onto the couch again.

“Someone could have died,” Alex finished.

“Alex, I think that’s a little extreme,” Isobel interjected.

“No,” Michael said, looking down at his hands for a few moments before he glanced at Isobel and then to Alex. “He’s right. He could barely walk and I was so depleted I couldn’t even help him. I’m the reason we had to move so fast.” He looked at Kyle then. “Is his leg going to be okay?”

“Uh, yeah. The inflammation should go down in a day or so.” Kyle looked directly at Alex when he continued, “He just has to stay off the prostheses. I will break into your house and steal them all if it becomes necessary.”

“Jesus,” Alex muttered, rolling his eyes. “I won’t use one, Kyle. Calm down.”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Michael said, looking over at him like he was afraid his husband wouldn’t accept him.

“I know you are. I know it’ll happen again. And I love you anyway.” He could never be mad at Michael for his big heart, but he didn’t know how much longer they would keep getting lucky when shit went sideways.

“They’re so sweet,” Isobel cooed to Kyle, holding his hand.

“Yeah, it’s pretty insufferable,” he replied with a genuine smile.

Michael threw a couch pillow at his face just as he kissed Alex softly.

—

“So you think Álvarez is the head of Project Shepard?” Kyle sounded dubious.

“I don’t know if he’s at the top, but I do know that he was above my dad,” Alex leaned back into the cushions of the couch. “He was in the military, but there’s no record of his career anywhere.”

“I still don’t understand how you discovered he was former military.” Michael tilted his head at Alex’s sigh. He snagged his husband by the ankle and turned him 90-degrees on the sofa so that his knees were draped over Michael’s lap. A pillow was floated behind Alex’s back to stop him from lying uncomfortably against the armrest.

Alex’s glare softened when Michael started kneading at the back of his calf. “The way he carries himself; he expects people to listen to him. He was an officer.”

“Is that so, Captain?” Michael had an impish grin as he glanced sideways, his curls falling over his forehead.

Alex ignored the jab. “He knew that I was involved in the raid we did, but I couldn’t really tell from the way he was talking if he thought I was working alone or not.”

Michael was frowning. “He said that Deep Sky isn’t sanctioning any raids. They knew about the raid, didn’t they?”

“Eduardo knows. He’s the only one that Kyle and I tell about them because strictly speaking, they aren’t sanctioned by the organization.” Alex looked at Kyle, an uncomfortable pit starting to open in his stomach.

“But Álvarez knew that Deep Sky was footing the bill for the piece we purchased from him. And he knows that they have the Lockhart machine, but not about us participating in the raids…” Kyle’s eyes were growing wide. “You don’t think–”

“Goddammit.” Alex rubbed his temples. This was just what they didn’t need. “Project Shepard has a mole in Deep Sky.”

#malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #rnm fic #alex manes #michael guerin #(mine) #(my fic) #(malex) #(rnm) #marriage!verse #tw: homophobic language #tw: mention of suicide

[crybabysunflower]

I am thinking about how mysme fans villify yoosung for the moment when jihyun finally told him that Rika has been mentally ill and yoosung couldnt accept that for a moment. But are we not gonna talk about how Jihyun hid that aspect of Rika for so long just to not have her sweet reputation tarnished. LIKE- it kind of shows that to some degree Jihyun harbors the prejudice mentally ill people face (and overall we know his view on mentally ill people is very icky cuz he fetishized Rika's mental illnesses). On top of that, if he had said that right from the beginning, his story would not have been that suspicious like for what other reason someone would suddenly kill themself out of nowhere if they dont have mental health issues.

(Being on reddit made me salty about Jihyun ALOT)

#mystic messenger #yoosung kim #tw: mention of suicide

[my-past-disgusts-me]

The romantics had it right but also so, so wrong. Nature is beautiful and powerful and horrible and terrifying and it commands respect. Emotions are valuable and meant to be felt and followed. Spirits and Gods and ghosts walk alongside us, guiding us. But nature is also enjoyed beneath a microscope, it is also despicable and should be hated. Emotions are terrible, painful things that will ruin your life if you listen to them. Some day science will explain away the paranormal and spiritualism will be reserved for fools and elders. The life of a romantic is filled with paradoxes. I love everything and I hate the world. I ask to be killed and I want desperately to live. I despise my dearly beloved, and I never want to let him go. I love my best friend and for that reason I will never pursue them. Nature is gorgeous and beautiful and rejuvenating and I rarely go outside. I hate romanticism and I am so glad there's a word for all the things I've felt and believed and tried to uphold my entire life.

Be careful getting into romanticism. It's a beautiful way to view the world, and a fulfilling way to live your life, generally. But, as someone who believed in it before I even knew the ideology existed, it is fraught with opportunities to spiral into depression.

Oh yeah and also respect women, that's something the old romantics never really got right

#romanticism #tw: mentions of death #tw: mention of suicide #rant post #man I hate emotions #/pos and /neg #they consume my every moment and drag me deeper into a life which I abhor #a life that I have fantasized about #a life that makes me sick #homesick... lovesick... mentally ill... #this is why i write poetry

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

Thank you for your thorough reply. I mostly sent that message since I personally can see how people would be quick to call the premise of that fic problematic with regards to race. Making an Indigenous man biologically driven to be submissive towards a white woman has negative associations with “taming the savage” type tropes (1/2)

Thanks for reaching out again and meeting me where I am at on this. D/s and race do need to be tackled sensitively, I agree.

In this case from reading the fic I thought that this treatment of the men in submissive position by this particular writer was done as well as one could. The sub-assignment was equally distributed among almost all the main men on the cast (first point) so did not appear linked to race in particular. Chakotays submissiveness was also not tied to his race in text in any way (second point). The fic also gave him agency over whether to pursue a sexually submissive relationship (third point). Regarding Belanna, the fic put all the main women, not just B, in the Dom position (fourth point).

In terms of advice I've followed as a white writer and a beta on how to handle race in fics, especially in smut fics, I always hear two pieces of advice as best practices - (1) wherever possible include characters performing the kink that are white and nonwhite and give them equal treatment, and (2) avoid sexualizing/exotifying/fetishizing racial characteristics. From the three chapters that did get posted, the author was following that advice in terms of writing her D/s world. I cant judge the actual smut scenes of course, these werent ever posted, but in terms of establishing how this fictional sexual mechanic works the author seemed to be doing the best they could to portray this equally in white and non-white characters, and was not fetishizing race (again at least that I noticed).

The tags on this fic were extremely comprehensive in terms of what kinks would be tackled. this is usually a good indicator for me that this is going to be handled sensitively on the kink front. There are not enough kink fics written by people who actually do their research so I was looking forward to seeing if that would pan out in the writing itself.

Belanna is tricky because as you pointed out in your 2nd message, the angry latina point is very valid. Her klingon temper is also referenced a lot in canon and is used as a clumsy method of showing her grappling with her dual-identities and her dealing with anti-klingon sentiments. And so I think it is a struggle for writers to figure out how to write her in character in that regard without being insensitive as canon is bad at it to start. It is a valid criticism to raise but its also helpful to be able to point to some fic or other resource that either does handle the temper well or explains how not to handle it.

Given that Belanna didnt actually appear in person in the three chapters posted, I really dont have a basis for how the author would have handled her character. And I wont get to find out if she would have been sensitive about it now.

All that to say what I took issue with in terms of the negative comments the author described receiving wasnt that she had been accused of racism. it is that she'd been harassed in multiple ways, on multiple fics, even told to kys over a made up sexual mechanic and that this had hurt her enough to just... stop. To stop writing and sharing her kink. to stop writing these characters. And thats... awful. Blocking and Muting or clicking the back button were all choices this anon had. Sharing specific instances where the D/s was racially insensitive was also a choice they had. Instead it sounds like they went on anon, made extremely general accusations about racism, homophobia, and not understanding the characters, and then sent these to a writer they dont know, who doesnt know them, and told that writer the most awful hurtful think you could say. For what purpose? It just reeks of bad actor behavior.

#fandom discourse #obviously if im off base here you can reblog and tell me #tw: mention of suicide #tw: racism

[comment-exchange]

295. Echoes of the Past-Sounds of the Future (Primeval)

Title:  Echoes of the Past-Sounds of the Future Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41748849/chapters/104737677 Platform: AO3 Creator: GreyGullHaven Work Type: Fanfiction Fandom: Primeval  Rating: Mature/Explicit eventually  Pairing: Nick Cutter and Connor Temple Word count: 7k as of now Warnings: non-con, abuse, assault, past bad relationships, mention of suicide/past suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, angst, and whump. Number of comments: 0 Completion Status: WIP Short summary/description: Nick and Connor have been in a relationship for nearly six months, but things seem to be taking a turn for the worse. What secret is Connor hiding? Is it something Nick can help with? Is it something they can overcome together, or will it tear them apart?

#submission #ao3 #ff #Pe #ncxct #7k #wip #0c #greygullhaven #tw: noncon #tw: abuse #tw: assault #tw: mention of suicide #multi chapter #Nick Cutter/Connor Temple #archive of our own #fanfiction #primeval

[raamitsu]

why did they change drakens va :(

Hi, dear Anon 👋🏼

There was a controversy circulating the VA which of the fact he was found cheating on his wife, LiSA, who is most popularly known for being the singer of anime tv series called ‘Demon Slayer’. I read some of this year’s articles that they were already back together and he has finally made a return to the industry, but he’s definitely no longer become Draken’s voice actor. I heard another rumour of him leaking a very confidential information that added more heat to the controversy but unfortunately I forgot what was it.

Besides, Draken’s new voice actor does a really good job at voicing him! I believe you won’t be disappointed 😉

You may read the rest here (TW: mention of suicide ‼️)

#tw: mention of suicide #ur ask has been answered <333 #anon ask : done! #tokyo revengers