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atths--twice · 7 months

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Another Chance

What if there WAS something on the tape Mulder brought back from Puerto Rico?

Fictober day 5. Prompt #28- I may not get another chance to say this.

Longstreet Motel Washington, D.C.

“I may not have the X-Files, Scully, but I still have my work,” Mulder said, standing up and walking around the small table to plug in his headphones. “And I still have you.”

She looked at him, shocked by the words he had spoken so bravely. He did not look at her, his focus on his task, and she wondered what he was thinking.

“And I still have myself,” he said as he walked back and sat down with a sigh.

She could not look at him, too many thoughts suddenly crowding in her mind.

“For all that it’s worth,” he said quietly and bitterly and then she did look at him.

“Mulder-” she began, but he cut her off.

“I know what I saw. I know what happened.”

“I know you do.”

“It was there. I know it was.”

“Mulder-”

“I’m gonna go get some coffee,” he said, standing up so suddenly, she pulled back in surprise. “I’ll… I just need...”

He walked out without finishing his sentence and Scully sat in the silence of the small room. She let out a deep breath as she rose from the chair and sat in the one he had vacated.

She stared at the reel he had been so intent on bringing back to show the proof recorded upon it. But there was nothing, only hissing silence.

“Oh… what if it’s…”

She quickly put the reel back on, a thought suddenly occurring to her. Starting at the ending of the tape instead of the beginning, she listened closely and waited, her heart thumping in anticipation of the possibility there could be something on it.

When it made noise, she jumped back placing a hand on her chest.

“Shit,” she breathed, glancing at the tape and then the door, wondering if she should find Mulder or let it play through before she told him. She did not want to get his hopes up, so she decided to see what she discovered first.

High pitched screeching forced her to turn down the volume as she stared at the reel and then covered her ears. It only lasted a few seconds and then it was silent again, allowing her to uncover her ears.

Then words began to be spoken, garbled and backwards, the pitch low and then high-as though someone or something was messing with the speed of it. She heard… Bach? Was that right? It was a short snippet and she leaned closer to hear more.

“Scully.”

She jumped back, looking at the door expecting to see him standing there and ready to tell him what she had found, but he was not there. She frowned, confused as to what she had heard, before it was said again.

“Scully.”

Her name. Coming from the reel in Mulder’s voice.

It was not backwards and it was clearer than anything else she had heard. She drew in a breath as she leaned forward again.

“I don’t know what to make of all of this. To explain what happened to Jorge. I don’t know and you’re not here to help me with figuring it out. You’re gone. They took you from me.”

Scully exhaled as her mouth dropped open and she felt tears stinging her eyes.

“I don’t know how to explain what I’ve seen. There’s something…”

She leaned forward further when she heard his voice grow distant, as though he had walked away from the recorder.

“I feel it in the air. Something thick and heavy. Like a… like a storm is coming, but it’s not a storm. I can’t explain it.”

Bach began to play again, backwards and at a faster speed than she knew it to be and she leaned back, confused.

“Scully,” Mulder said on the reel, clear as day, cutting through the music and closer than he had been before. “Scully, I…” He sighed and she leaned in, wanting to capture every word. “I feel like I’m far away, not just in distance but… away. Something is coming and I don’t know what it is. If it’s like what happened to Jorge…”

There was a scuffling noise and then he was breathing softly.

“He’s still covered in goosebumps. I don’t know how to explain it. I need to… make a report. To document it all.”

Screeching again and she quickly covered her ears, breathing heavily. It lasted only seconds and then fell silent.

“If I don’t make it, if I…” Mulder said, close again, so close and Scully uncovered her ears to listen. “I may not get another chance to say this… but I want you to know, Scully. I want you to know how much you have meant to me. You’re faith in me. Your friendship. I want you to know that I… I haven’t had anyone in my corner in a long time and you… Thank you, Scully.”

“GREETINGS ON BEHALF OF THE PEOPLE OF OUR PLANET,” the tape suddenly shouted, high pitched and not backwards like everything but Mulder’s voice had been and she called out in surprise, her hands on her ears again.

Tears fell as she heard garbled words, Bach, and Mulder crying out as machines whirred and then silence so loud, she would swear she could hear her heart beating.

Breathing heavily, she slowly uncovered her ears and wiped her wet cheeks. The tape was nearly finished and just as she was going to shut it off, sure that it was done, she heard Mulder say her name one last time.

“Scully,” he said softly and then the tape ran out, silence falling once again.

“Okay, I got you a coffee too, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay,” Mulder said as he opened the door, carefully holding the two cups. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to be here once I start the surveillance. It’s some of the most disturbing conversations you’ve ever heard.”

She watched him as he set the cups down and then looked at her with a forced smile that turned into a frown when he saw her face.

“Scully? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong? Did you accidentally listen to them talking?” He looked at his headphones and then the volume button, frowning again. “Scully?”

“Mulder… you need…” she said, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “You need to hear this. It’s… there is something on the tape.”

“Scully…”

“No! There is. I just heard it.”

“What?” he asked, not sounding convinced. She nodded as she set it up with shaking hands. “How did you…”

“I tried playing it backwards,” she explained, turning it back on as he stood beside her waiting to hear it. “It just takes a few seconds. It’s loud at first, so you might want to cover your ears.”

“Scully, there’s nothing on there. We would have heard it no matter how it was played.”

“It was here, Mulder. I heard it. I wouldn’t make that up. You just have to wait. It’s almost there. Just wait…” She was breathing hard again, the wait becoming too much. “I don’t understand. I just heard it.” She looked at him and she saw sadness in his eyes. “I swear to you that I heard it.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said softly. “But was it here?” He touched her ear and then her head, just as she had done to him. “Or here?”

“I heard it,” she said, shaking her head. “Heard it with my ears. There was Bach playing. And loud voices and machines whining. And you.” She looked at him, remembering his words. “I heard you.”

“What did I say?”

“You said…” She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

They took you from me.

“You thanked me for being in your corner,” she said, opening her eyes. He breathed in sharply and stood to his full height. “Do you remember saying that?”

“I do. But I said it into my personal recorder. Not into anything that would be on this tape.” He looked at her and then at the reel still running silently. “There’s nothing there.”

“Then how did I hear it?” she whispered, also looking at the reel.

“I don’t know,” he answered, staring at her. “How did you understand it if it was being played backwards?”

“It wasn’t playing backwards when you were speaking. I could understand you perfectly.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No,” she said softly. “No, it doesn’t. Maybe I thought I heard it. Maybe I… maybe I heard what I wanted to hear.” But she knew that was not true. She had heard something.

“What else did you hear?”

“Your worry. That something was coming. I heard your fear that you would die like Jorge.”

“How is it possible?” he whispered, shaking his head as he once again looked at the silent reel. “It’s blank.” “I don’t know how to explain it, but I heard it. I know I did.” She stared at him almost defiantly, daring him to contradict her.

“When I was there, it played back what I had spoken into the recorder. Like an echo. A slow, creepy echo.”

“It was you. Clear as I can hear you talking to me right now.”

They stared at each other as the tape ran out and then he sighed as he shook his head.

“I need to get back to the surveillance,” he said quietly.

“Mulder…” she said and he shook his head again.

“Gotta take my medicine,” he said bitterly and she sighed. “I’m lucky I wasn’t fired.”

She stood up and let him have his chair back. Picking up the cup of dark coffee, she handed it to him. She took the other one with her as she sat back down on the chair.

“I can stay here for awhile,” she said when he looked over at her.

“You might change your mind once I turn on the audio,” he warned and she gave him a small smile.

He flipped it on and watched her face as a conversation began about lap dances versus table dances. She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes briefly as he shook his head.

She reached over and covered his hand with hers, squeezing gently and he squeezed back.

“I don’t know how you heard it, but I meant what I said,” he told her quietly, grasping her hand as she had attempted to let go. “Every word of it. Thank you for being in my corner.” He squeezed her hand once more and then released it.

“You’re welcome,” she replied and he nodded.

He glanced at the reel and then at her.

“One more time? Just to be sure?”

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee as he readied the reel, hoping that this time he would hear something.

#fictober23 #fictober 2023 #xffictober23 #the x files #fanfic #prompt #partners #separated partners #season 2 #little green men #slight canon divergence

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johnsbleu · 7 months

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 160

warnings: sm*t HMH masterlist

Skipping happily into the office, you smile at John and shake your hips a little as you grab a few more books to put out. You hear him laugh quietly as he walks over to you and kisses your cheek, then he peeks out to the shop floor and comes back in to help you grab the books.

“There’s a couple out there on a date,” you say, and John looks at you, “Their first date. He said he wanted to do something different, so they came to the book shop. Thought it was kind of cute and unique.”

John nods his head, “That’s different. Probably better than dinner at a fancy steak place in New York City, huh?”

You look over at him and smile, “I loved our first date, and you know that I would have been completely fine with peanut butter and jelly on the couch for our first date; I just wanted to be with you.”

“If I had taken you to a book shop for our first date, it wouldn’t have been a date. It would have felt like work.”

“You got a point,” you smile as you look at him, then you lean over to kiss him, “It was a great date though. As soon as you pushed your card across the table to show me that you rebound books, it was all over from there. We didn’t shut up for the rest of the night.”

John smiles, “I was so nervous.”

“I was too,” you admit, and John lets out a small laugh, “But you made me feel so comfortable and like you actually gave a damn about what I said.”

“I did. I do! I still do.” he smiles, and you lean up to kiss him again. “I could listen to you talk all day long and I honest to god would not get bored. You’re my favorite person on this planet.”

You smile, “You’re my favorite person too.”

Both of you look over at the door as Grace comes in with Ronan in her arms and a grimace on her face, and you laugh when she sets her down and shakes out her arms.

“She just…” Grace laughs, “God, she just shit her diaper and it was so loud, everyone looked at me.”

You laugh, “Been there. She has those really wet ones lately. It’s awful. John and I usually rock, paper, scissors over who has to change them.

John turns to you and puts his fist on.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

You both played paper.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

“Yes!” John laughs when his rock breaks your scissors, and you playfully squint your eyes at him before you turn around to change Ronan’s diaper.

Grace laughs as she leans against the desk, “You two are so cute.”

“I’m not too upset about losing because, yes, whoever loses has to change her diaper, but there’s a still nice little win; a massage before bed.” you look over at John and smile before you squint your eyes as you look at the books he’s holding, “Those are…thriller and mystery.”

John nods, “You got it, boss. I’ll put them out there right now.”

You look down at Ronan as you scrunch your face up and clean the smelliest and poopiest diaper she’s had in a while--introductions to solids have been rough--then you set the dirty diaper aside and put a new diaper on her before pulling her dress down. You help her off of the couch and watch as she walks over to her toys on the floor, and you smile when she walks back over to offer one to you.

“Thank you!” you take it and make noises as you play with it, and she looks up at you and smiles, “Where’s daddy?”

Ronan looks up with her big brown eyes and perfect eyelashes, then she toddles over to the door, garbling and babbling baby nonsense until she gets to the doorway, “Dada!”

“What?” John sings from the shop floor, and you lean over to see Ronan waddling out to see him. You hear her screech loudly a few times as she walks around, then she giggles, which means John has probably picked her up. He tosses her up a little as he walks back into the office, and she squeals. “Oof, it stinks.”

You laugh as you stand up and grab the diaper, “I’m gonna go toss it outside.”

Holding the poopy diaper like it’s…well, a poopy diaper, you head outside and walk down and around the corner to the back of the shop where there’s a big dumpster that is used for the shops on this strip. You don’t want to throw the diaper away in the shop just in case you forget to take the garbage out and it festers overnight. That would be absolutely horrible to come in to tomorrow.

You toss it in the garbage and look out at the town square as you walk past, and you wave at a few people who must be setting up something that is happening this weekend. There’s empty booths and strings of fairy lights being hung up over what looks like a makeshift dance floor.

There isn’t a festival happening this weekend since the bookshop always taken advantage of the extra foot traffic and has a sidewalk sale. The wind picks up a little and blows a piece of paper that is pinned to the board on the sidewalk, and you walk over to see what it says.

14th Annual Daddy Daughter Dance.

“Oh, my god.” you pull the sheet off and rush inside to John, who is sitting in the kid’s section with Ronan in his lap, and you sit down and read the paper to him, “Daughters of all ages (no age restrictions) are invited to a magical night of music, dance, games, and treats. Girls may be escorted by dad, grandpa, uncle, or any father figure. This evening is for girls to spend with their first ‘love’, to connect and strengthen the relationship between fathers and daughters; a relationship that will last a lifetime.”

John takes the paper and laughs, “That’s cute.”

“You should take Ro.” you say, smiling wide, “There’s no age limit, it’s in the town square, it’s a little spendy, but look, the money goes to a good cause.”

Looking at the paper, John nods his head, “Isn’t she kind of little?”

“No age restriction. This could be your little tradition with her! You could take her every year!” you say as John starts to smile, “You two can make a whole day of it. I can take her to get a dress and do her hair and her nails when she’s older. You can take her to dinner somewhere fancy, then go to the dance and win prizes.”

“It does sound like a good idea.” he admits as he smiles, and you lean over to kiss him.

You pinch Ronan’s cheek as she smiles--her chubby cheeks are so pinchable!--then you kiss the dimple in her cheek, “I’ll take this gorgeous girl to get a dress tomorrow.”

John chuckles, “I’m kind of excited, to be honest.”

“It’s cute!” you smile, then you tickle her belly, “We get to go shopping for you!”

Ronan giggles and kicks her legs, then she slides off of John’s lap and waddles around, babbling loudly. John smiles as he watches her, and your heart melts a little when he looks back down the paper you brought in.

Ronan has just been put down for her nap after the mall, and she’s pretty zonked from all the shopping. You’re not sure how she’ll even get through the night tomorrow since it’s the daddy daughter dance, but you’re sure John won’t mind holding her if she falls asleep.

As you round the corner to the bedroom, you stop and watch as John looks at himself in the mirror and fixes his suit. He pulls the jacket tight around him and fixes the sleeves, and he dust off the pants a little.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him in a suit, and damn he looks good! You can't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you watch him. It's like you're seeing him for the first time all over again. The way he carries himself, the confidence that radiates off of him - it's all so attractive.

“Is that your suit for tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he laughs nervously, “Yeah, I haven’t worn this suit in a while, so I wanted to make sure it’ll fit otherwise I’ll have to go get one today. It fits though.”

You walk over to him and run your hands down from his shoulders to his hands, then you nod, “You look very handsome. You have some cufflinks?”

“Uh, yeah, the ones you got me for Christmas,” he says, and you walk over to get them from off the dresser. “Thought they’d look good.”

Nodding your head, you grab one and hold it up to John’s sleeve, “Looks great.”

“Do you think I should, like, comb my hair back? Or do something different?” he asks, and you laugh a little--he’s taking this so serious, it’s very cute. “Is that dumb?”

“No,” you walk over to him and cup his face, “You look as handsome as ever just like this. Reminds me of our wedding day.”

John smiles as he leans down to kiss a few times, then he undresses and hangs his suit back up. You walk over to sit on the bed and open the drawer on your nightstand to see all of the junk you’ve accumulated in it over the years (every hair tie that you own, 4 chapsticks, 6 pens, one highlighter, a small bottle of lotion, an unused bottle of lube, 2 very hard Tootsie Rolls, an expired condom, and a little packet of tissues), so you decide it’s time to clean it out.

“What are you gonna do tomorrow night?”

“Oh, haven’t given it much thought, really.” you shrug as you look at him, “Probably just get some stuff done around here. Maybe clean Ronan’s room and go through her dresser and closet to get rid of stuff she doesn’t fit--well, pack it away. I want to save her clothes just in case we have another girl in the future. I also need to go through my closet too. I have some clothes from when I was pregnant that I’m obviously not going to wear or fit in anymore.”

John nods as he pulls his jeans on, then he sits by you, “Have you ever been to a daddy daughter dance?”

“Didn’t have a dad,” you say as you look at him, and he closes his eyes--instant regret.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I mean, I knew that, but…I just…I didn’t think.”

You touch his arm, “Its’ okay. I always saw my friends going to them when I was in elementary school. They were pretty popular--I didn’t know they still were--but it was just at our local community center. By the time my mom met Dan, we were too old and cool for those kinds of things and he was just mom’s boyfriend, you know? We didn’t really see him like that yet.”

“Would you have wanted to go to one?”

“Absolutely,” you smile as you look at him, then you shrug, “But you can’t really go if you don’t have a dad. I didn’t have any father figure. I suppose my mom could have taken us since she was our mother and father figure, but she worked a lot. I think it’s really important that you and Ronan have this, you know? She obviously won’t remember it until she’s maybe 5 or 6, but…”

“I will.” he says, and you nod.

You feel the back of your throat tightening with the urge to cry, “You know I’ve always said how important your relationship with her is, and you know why. I didn’t have a dad to love me the way you love Ronan. She’s incredibly lucky to have you, as am I.”

John nods, then he walks over to the closet and pulls out a garment bag, “I was wondering…would you like to join me and Ronan?”

“What?”

“No age restriction,” he says, and you laugh a little, “I’m a dad. I’m not your dad, but I’m a dad. It didn’t say that a husband can’t bring his wife.”

You laugh tearfully as you look at him, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he sits down with you and smiles.

“But this is your thing with Ronan. I don’t want to barge in on that.”

John chuckles, “It’s not barging if I’m asking you.”

You look down as John gently runs his fingers up your arm, causing goosebumps to form, then you look up at him as he smiles softly.

“Every little girl deserves to go to a daddy daughter dance,” he says as you tear up again, “And I’d be more than happy to bring both my girls. Let me do this for you.”

“You’re really the sweetest man I’ve even known.”

John laughs as he pulls you into his warm arms, “I bought a dress for you.”

“What? When?”

“When you took Bug to get her dress earlier.” he says, and you laugh, “I went to that one shop you love in Oyster Bay.”

You stand up and take the garment bag, then you unzip it to reveal the blush colored dress made of tulle, “Oh, this is so pretty.”

“The bottom is kind of fluffy but not too fluffy. Go try it on.”

You lean down to kiss John, then you skip to the bathroom and quickly change. The top of the dress is more of a halter top, which is perfect since it’ll be warm tomorrow night, and the neckline plunges down a little but not too much. The bottom isn’t fluffy but you get what John meant--it’s tulle, it looks fluffy.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you grow giddy when you realize you have your own version of a princess dress. You spin around and watch the dress bloom out around you like a flower, then you walk out to John.

“Wow,” he smiles, “Looks really good.”

You look at yourself in the mirror as John watches behind you, and you fix the dress a little and look at him as he walks over to help zip the dress up. He kisses your shoulder and back as you smile and close your eyes, then he moves your hair and kisses up your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, hugging you tight to him, “I know you’re not my little girl, but you’re still my girl and I’m more than happy to share tomorrow night with you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper back, and he touches his hand under your chin to turn your face toward his so he can kiss you.

Turning around to face John, you place your hand on the back of his neck and kiss him deeply as he slides his hand down to your ass and grips it. You feel his hand move up to the zipper of your dress, then he unzips it and reaches up to pull the halter from over your head.

“Okay, good.” he nods, and you furrow your brow as you lean back, “Just making sure this is easy to get off.”

“John!” you laugh loudly, then you slap your hand playfully against his stomach as he laughs.

John left a little while ago since he said he needed to grab something last minute but he said he said he’d be back shortly. You’ve gotten Ronan all bathed but not dressed yet--she’ll drool or spill something on herself--and now she’s in your bathroom with you while you curl your hair and do your makeup. You’re just about done too, so you unplug the curling iron and set it on the silicone mat to cool down.

“Should we go get you dressed?” you ask, and Ronan looks up at you as she chews on an old comb you and John have never used. “Come on.”

You reach for her hands and hold them as she walks in front of you to her room, then she falls to her butt and crawls over to some toys while you grab her dress from the closet.

It’s blush colored like your dress but maybe has a little more pink in it and it’s fluffy! It has a satin ribbon around the middle that ties as a big bow in the back and has a matching bow for her hair.

You kneel down in front of Ronan and grab a clean diaper, then you lay her down and hand her a toy to keep her busy while you change her diaper. She’s at the point where all she wants to do is kick her legs and flail her arms. You pull the dress over her head and smile when she looks at you, and you start to laugh as you hold her hands and pull her to stand up.

“Oh, you look so gorgeous!” you smile as you fix the bottom of her dress, then grab her little shoes to put on. “Can momma put a bow in your hair? Will you let me do that?”

Ronan looks at you as she chews on the toy, and you take a few strands of her brown hair and click the bow to it.

“Very pretty!” you smile at her, and she scrunches her face and smiles back. You pick her up and carry her back to your bedroom so you can get dressed, then you set her down on the floor and grab out the dress. You match it with some gold heels that you haven’t worn in a while but you remember being comfortable, then you get some accessories and look at yourself in the mirror. “I think daddy is one lucky man to have two gorgeous girls. Don’t you think?”

Ronan babbles as she toddles over to you and reaches up, crying a little when you don’t pick her up right away. You lift her into your arms just as the front door opens, and you fix your dress and Ronan’s before walking to the stairs.

“Are my girls ready?”

“We are!”

John laughs as he rushes to the living room, “Don’t come down yet. Let me sit on the couch.”

“Okay, we’re coming down now.”

“I drove past the town square on the way to get what I needed to get and it looks really great. They got the lights on, the booths have lights around them, they have music playing, some people have already shown up. I think this will…” he stops talking as you and Ronan stand in front of him, and he lets out a small laugh as he tears up, “You both look beautiful.”

You smile when he gets up and kisses you, then he leans down and kisses Ronan before taking her from you so he can get a better look at you. He takes your hand and holds it up so you’ll spin, then he pull you closer to kiss you again.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispers, and you smile as you step back and gesture to him in his suit.

“Look at you! You’re wearing the shit outta the suit.”

John laughs as his cheeks turn red, “Whatever.”

“You clean up nice, Wick.” you say, then you wrap your arms around him, “We’re a good looking family.”

“Yes, we are.” John bounces Ronan in his arms, then he looks at you, “Shall we?”

Holding hands with John, you walk to the door and grab your purse for the night, then you grab Ronan’s diaper bag--not very glamorous but a necessity. John locks the door up behind you, then he walks to the car and gets Ronan wrangled into her car seat with her fluffy dress. He rushes over and opens the door for you and nods his head as you laugh.

“Thank you, sir.” you get in and fix your dress, then you look back at Ronan as she chews on her hands.

John is doing something in the trunk as you wait for him, then you look to your left and smile when he gets in the car and sets an oblong box in your lap.

“What’s this?”

“Something for tonight.” he says, then he looks over at you, “I was going to get Ronan something but I didn’t want her to choke on it, so I just got her some flowers.”

You laugh as you nod your head, “Yeah, good idea.”

John gestures for you to open the box, so you look down at it and pop it open to reveal a gorgeous and simple diamond tennis bracelet.

“I noticed you didn’t have a bracelet to wear with your dress tonight, and you know I always buy your earrings and necklaces, but I never give you bracelets.” he says, then he takes the bracelet out and places it around your wrist. He brushes his lips softly over the inside of your wrist, then presses a kiss to it, “It looks great.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you whisper, grimacing a little.

John shakes his head as he reaches over to cup your face, “Tonight is a night for me to spoil my girls rotten, and I’m gonna spoil you.”

You laugh when John cocks up his brow a little, insinuating sex for later, and you laugh again as you lean over to kiss him, “Sounds great.”

The air is warm and full of laughter and music, and it smells of cotton candy and warm chocolate chip cookies. Everywhere you look, you see little girls dragging their dads off to some booth to win a prize or get their picture taken. It’s all very sweet. This year’s event is held outside, while most are usually held in a fancy house on the hill, but people are still dressed in suits and fluffy dresses, so the three of you still fit in.

You thought you’d get weird looks from people when you paid to get in, but they just smiled and complimented you and Ronan. John got a few compliments as well from the older woman who took your money. There were a few people who wandered over to see what was happening, and one guy was thrilled and said he’d be back in twenty minutes with his daughters.

As you stand at a booth and look through the little trinkets on the table, you overhear a young girl, maybe 13, telling her dad how embarrassing he’s being because he’s dancing the music. She’s trying her hardest not to smile but every time he pokes her arm, a little smile tugs at her lips. You just want to lean over and tell her to cherish it.

Embarrassing dads like that are kind of the best. Dan wasn’t around when you were little, but he’s definitely an embarrassing dad--Leah has shared a story or two about that. He’s really the epitome of a corny dad.

“Where should we go next, huh?” John says to Ronan as she flails her arms around, “Oh, that way? Okay. Come on, mom.”

John takes your hand and holds tight to it as the three of you wander around.

The moment you got here, John has been so considerate to you. He’s seen you looking around at the fathers and daughters and getting teary eyed, and he just kissed your cheek and told you how happy he was that you came with.

To someone who grew up with a loving dad, they probably wouldn’t really think anything of this but to a girl who didn’t have one growing up, this is everything. Your inner child is healing and it feels really good.

“Oh, mom should try this.” John says, and you laugh as you look at the goldfish toss, “Maybe momma can win a new fish for us.”

You laugh, “That’s a lot of pressure.”

John and Ronan watch as you toss a ring onto the bowls where the fish are, but you miss a few times. You hold up the last one and grimace, then you toss it and watch as it spins around the rim of the bowl.

“Yay!�� you clap your hands and lean over to kiss Ronan, “I won a fish!”

Ronan squeals as she leans over for you to take her, and you hoist it up as John takes the fish from the woman behind the booth. He holds it up to look at the orange fish in the bag, then he holds it up so Ronan can see it. She points at it as she leans over but John holds it away enough so she can’t grab it.

“What are we gonna name him?” you ask as she garbles, and you laugh when she points at John and just says ‘dada’, “We’ll think about it some more.”

“No, no, Dada is a good name.” John smiles, and you laugh quietly.

There’s special dance coming up shortly for everyone, so you make your way over to the benches and sit down as some dads bring their kids out to the dance floor. You hand Ronan off to John and gesture for him to go out there, but he looks nervous.

“Won’t it be weird?”

“When have you ever cared what people thought about you, babe? You love this little girl. Now give her her first dance.” you smile as Ronan scratches her fingers against John’s beard, “Go now while she’s still in a good mood.”

John leans down to kiss you, then he walks out to the dance floor and holds Ronan in his arms. She’s still looking at him and playing with this beard as he sways back and forth, then she plays with his tie as he whispers to her.

He’s probably telling her how much he loves her--actually you know he is. She leans against his shoulder and twirls her finger in his hair, then she leans back and giggles. You pull your phone out and snap a few shots of the two of them as they dance together, and you wipe the tear off your cheek.

A soft and slow version of Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely begins to play, and John smiles as he kisses Ronan’s cheek and walks over to you.

“Should we dance with momma now?” John puts his hand out and smiles, “Mrs. Wick, may we have this dance?”

“Absolutely.” you nod, propping the bag holding the fish up on the centerpiece.

John pulls you to your feet, then he smiles and walks back out to the dance floor. He wraps his right arm around your waist and smiles at you, then he looks at Ronan as she reaches over to play with your hair.

“Look how beautiful my girls are.” John whispers, and you smile at him. “I’m the luckiest man here.”

“You know, we’re pretty dang lucky too.”

John holds you and Ronan tight to his chest, and he leans his cheek against the top of your head as you sway back and forth. You close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat, then you open your eyes and look at Ronan with her cheek pressed to his shoulder and her eyes closed.

“Oh,” you stand up straight, “She’s asleep.”

“We don’t have to go, do we?” John asks, and you shake your head when you realize John is having fun and wants to stay longer. “I can grab her stroller from the car.”

You nod, “Yeah, sounds good.”

John rests his hand on your lower back and pulls you close to him again, “And we can have a few more dances.”

“Is your arm okay?” you gesture to Ronan, “She’s not killing it?”

“Nope, it’s perfect.” he smiles, then he pulls you both closer.

After putting Ronan in her stroller, you and John hung out at the festival for a little longer. He won a duck plushie for Ronan at the water coin toss, then he won a teddy bear for you at the balloon pop. The two of you walked around and laughed like teenagers in love, and it was fun.

Since you thought they’d have dinner served--they didn’t since the theme was a festival this year--you didn’t eat dinner. John dropped you and Ronan off at home, then he headed to Oyster Bay to pick up dinner from your favorite Thai restaurant.

Ronan woke up when you changed her out of her dress and into her pajamas, so you just sat on the couch with her and feed her some scrambled eggs and banana. She’ll get a bottle in a bit.

You turn on the TV and grab your phone, then you scroll through your phone to see what people are saying about the picture you posted of John and Ronan where they’re both looking at each other and smiling. Comments from Jen, Amanda, Tess, and your mom all make you smile, but you’ll have to reply to them later. Your mom has already texted you to ask how the dance went. You’ll reply to her later too. You look over at Ronan as she watches TV, then you kiss the top of her head.

“Did you have fun today, bug?” you ask, and she looks up at you as she struggles to get a piece of egg into her mouth--you reach over to help her. “Daddy loves you very much. Very, very much. You’re so lucky to have him. He’s pretty much my favorite person on this planet, aside from you. Though when I say that, it makes me feel guilty because I do really love Aunt Tess too and Grandma. I just love a lot of people, but I love daddy in a whole different way. He’s healed my heart so much over these past few years, and I’m grateful that you’ll never know any of the pain that I have because daddy won’t ever treat you the way my father treated me. Daddy loves you and only wants the best for you.”

Ronan is just babbling and chewing on her hands as she looks up at you but all you see when you look at her is John; the spitting image of him.

“I love you so much, Ro.” you whisper as you lean over to kiss her cheek, “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. It’s actually pretty ridiculous how much I love you, babe.”

“She loves you.” John says, and you jump and put your hand over your heart as you close your eyes and exhale. “Sorry.”

You laugh, “Holy shit, you scared me.”

John gestures to Ronan as he laughs, “Let’s hope ‘shit’ isn’t her next learned word.”

“If it is, it’ll be your fault. It’s your favorite swear word.”

“Nope,” he sits down, “It’s actually ‘fuck.’”

You laugh loudly as you put your hand over his mouth, and you both look at Ronan as she sits on the couch and eats her bananas and eggs. You feel John pressing kisses to your hand, so you remove it and look at him.

“She loves you, peach. And she knows you love her.” he whispers, and you smile as your eyes soften, “I know you love her too, and she’s so lucky to have you as a mom. I never had a mom, just like you didn’t have a dad, so I understand exactly how you feel when it comes to me and her, because it’s how I feel about you and her. She’s so lucky that she gets a mom who is going to love her unconditionally. I see the way you are with her, she’s so lucky, baby.”

“Thank you,” you smile as you lean over to kiss him.

John dips his thumb into your dimple, “And you’ve healed my heart too, peach. In so many ways. My heart is so full now because of you. I’ll be forever grateful for that.”

You lean over to kiss John a few times, then you laugh when Ronan crawls over your lap as she babbles, “Oh, you got a few things to say too, huh?”

“What movie should we watch?” he asks Ronan as she crawls over to him.

“I got the perfect movie that fits the theme for tonight,” you say, and John nods.

“I’ll get the food then.”

You smile as you kiss Ronan’s cheek, then you grab the remote and settle into the couch.

“Why…the hell did you pick that movie?” John asks, then he sniffles a little, “That was heartbreakingly beautiful.”

You picked 1995’s A Little Princess to fit with the daddy daughter theme of the night, and it had John almost sobbing at the end as he held Ronan. To be fair, you both were crying but it’s a great movie and it fit with the theme!

You lean over the sink and spit out the toothpaste, then you look at John, “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“I did! It was very sweet.”

Walking over to stand behind John, you wrap your arm around his waist and rest your cheek against his back, feeling the bumped up skin on the scar on his back. You lean back and trace your finger along the silver scar of an upside down cross, then you close your eyes and press kisses to it before moving to the other scars on his back.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“Can’t help it,” you say, matching John’s tone.

No matter how many times you see those scars on him, they knock the breath out of you and make you cry. It only reminds you of all of the shit John went through and how unfair it is.

John turns around but you shake your head and trail your finger along the scars on his stomach.

“Doesn’t help,” you whisper, and he pulls you into his arms, pinning yours down at your side so you can’t hug him and feel the scars. “It isn’t fair what you’ve been through either.”

“Oh, I know,” he whispers against your neck, then he leans up and smiles, “But it led me to you. And if I had to do it all over again just to have you, I would. A million times over.”

John lets go of you and cups your face, kissing with you with warmth and passion. He slides his hands down to the back of your thighs, then he lifts you up and carries you out to the bedroom. You smile at him as he lays you down and crawl up to kiss you, then he walks over to shut the bedroom door.

Reaching out for him, you laugh when he pulls your pajama shorts off and tosses them aside before he lays down on top of you. His right hand is warm as it slides up your silk pajama top onto your breast, and you close your eyes and smile as he kisses and sucks on your neck. You smile every time his beard tickles.

He takes his time as he kisses all along your neck and collarbone, then he sits up and pulls your shirt off, helping you when your hair gets a little tangled in the straps, then his hot mouth is back on your skin, kissing down your chest to your bellybutton before he kisses the little ‘J’ tattoo on your side. He licks up your chest to your chin, then he presses his mouth, warm and wet, to yours.

“I’d be lost without you,” he whispers against your lips, and you open your eyes to look at him, “I’d gladly go through everything again just to be with you.”

You smile softly as you reach up to cup his face, “Well, good thing you’ll never have to. I know it’s dramatic, but John, I’d die without you.”

John laughs quietly, “Yeah, me too.”

His hand slides down your side to your ass, then he lifts your thigh and wraps it around his waist as the two of you kiss. He moves his hand back up to your underwear, then he tugs them down and maneuvers you and him as he pulls them off and throws them aside.

“I’m still so impressed that you can do that one handed.”

That earns a little laugh from John before he moves his hand between your legs and rubs you slowly. He lays down next to you on the bed and spreads your legs open further, and you moan softly, looking into his warm eyes. He licks the tips of his fingers and moves them back between your legs, and you jolt a little as he smiles. He begins to move down between your legs, but you reach out for him and shake your head.

“Wait, wait, wait…”

“You don’t want me to go down?”

You laugh a little, “I do, I just…I wanna keep looking at you.”

John nods his head and sits up, then he takes the pillows and props them up for you. He makes sure that you’re able to watch him, then he kisses down your stomach to between your legs. You look down at him and smile when he kisses and nips at your thighs, then he spreads your legs apart and looks up at you as he buries his face between your legs, his tongue so warm and wet. You press your hand to your mouth as you pant, and you nod your head to let John know he’s doing well.

“Oh, shit, John…” you moan, then you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. “Yes, you’re so good at that. So good, baby.”

As John softly sucks on your clit, you push yourself back a little and moan but John pulls you back to him, then you place both hands on his head and pull him even closer. He hums loudly and closes his eyes, and the vibration of it causes you to shake as his beard scratches against your skin.

You let out a string of moans as John delves his tongue in deeper, then you look down at him to hold his gaze and interlace your fingers with his before closing your thighs around his head and moaning his name loudly as an orgasm ripples through your body, turning you into a twitching mess.

“Come here, come here. Come here right now,” you reach for him and push his boxers down, and he pulls you down the bed and bites his lip as he thrusts once to bury himself inside of you, “Oh, fuck!”

John chuckles low and soft in your ear, “You might wanna lay on your stomach and bury your face.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he licks his lips and nods his head, and you roll over to your stomach like he suggests. He slides back between your legs as you put your face in the pillow, then he leans closer to your ear, “This is much better.”

You smile as you look over your shoulder at him to say something to him, but he thrusts his hips hard, knocking the breath and the words out of you. You place your hand on the headboard to keep yourself from jolting forward and hitting your head with every jerk of his hips, then you look back at him as you laugh.

“Gonna turn your legs into jello, Mrs. Wick,” he whispers, and you cock up your brow.

“Oh, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you tease even though you absolutely know he will.

John leans down and kisses your shoulder, “You know me, I always keep my promises.”

“You know, I really love your after-sex hair,” John says, tucking your hair behind your ear, “It’s always a little damp so the natural curls come out. You always look so sexy.”

You smile as you reach over for a strawberry, “Your hair gets curly when it’s damp too. It’s sexy. It curls at the ends.”

John bites into a strawberry as he lounges on bed next to the platter of fruit and crackers. He holds up a strawberry for you, then he smiles when you bite it. The two of you sit in silence for a few moments as you snack, and you look over to see the time; a little after 10. You’re happy it isn’t too late.

The days of staying up until the early hours of the morning are now pretty limited since you have to have your wits about you during the day with a baby. Every now and then when Ronan is with your parents, you and John might stay up a little later than usual but it’s not common.

“Can I try something?” John asks, and you nod your head as you look at him. He moves the platter away a little, then he takes his half eaten strawberry and crawls closer to you.

“What are you doing?”

John laughs, “Trying something.”

You laugh a little as John gestures for you to lay down, then he unties your robe and opens it. You look up at him as he licks his lips, then he takes the strawberry and gently trails it around your nipple, watching the pink juice roll over your breast. He leans down and sucks it off, and you hum softly. He sits up and rubs the strawberry in a circular motion over your nipple again, and you moan when he sucks it off again.

John opens your robe more and trails the cold wet strawberry over both of your nipples, then down your stomach, his lips not far behind as he licks up the trail of juice. He kisses back up to you, then he smiles and offers the rest of the strawberry to you, which you take.

The two of you look at each other for a moment, then you frantically pull your robe off and crawl over to him as he takes his boxers off.

“One more time.” you whisper, and John nods with his lips pressed to yours. “God, you make me crazy.”

John lets out small grunt when you push him down and crawl on top of him, then you grab a strawberry and smirk as you look down at him.

“Your turn.”

___

taglist: @sakurachan-9 @beingnerdyissupercool @tnu-ree @ruby-octo Lemme know if u want to be added!

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick x y/n #fic: hold my hand #i need a man to love me as much as john loves his wife #anyway i hope y'all like it lmk or something that would be cool #i hope yall are doing well and i love youssss #byeeeeee #also ik this one isn't like...great but i do have some chapters coming up that are really funnnnn #and by fun i mean kind of angsty (for once) lmao #i'll give yall some hints if u want :))))#also i shouldn't say this chapter isn't great bc i actually think it's really freaking cute

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spotsupstuff · 4 months

Text

Found my two year old BTHB card and mmmm... there are some really good prompts in there and oh would one look at that, I even have fun characters to apply these things to, now

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Anger born of worry - Sparrows and Euros Words: 2161 Warnings: one-sided yelling match, abuse mention, panic attack (?)

It’s like one of her worst nightmares.

They were just talking, her sitting on the floor of his chamber, him looking down at her with his puppet, suspended directly above as he teased her about something stupid. She was laughing at his overblown dramatizations.

Then the lights died. In the *goddamn puppet chamber.*

Sparrows jumps away as the puppet hurls downwards into the floor where she sat, the umbilical arm screeches as emergency brakes stop it from following behind it. He lets out a terrifying mix of a too organic scream and something alien by its technological nature. Her breath quickens and it takes her a second to shake off the shock.

“Caper! Fuck-!” She dives down to the puppet and forces it to sit. It’s stupid heavy, with him unresponsive and the umbilical arm still connected. Danger signs project themselves all over the walls, not helping even *slightly* with calming her down.

Blessedly, the power starts to slowly come back. The puppet jerks against her hands and grabs her arms as he tries to steady himself again. The whole poor thing is shaking.

“Can you speak?” She leans in, trying to urge him on.

“Te-,” he gets interrupted by a horrible garbled noise. Sparrows flinches and he stops.

“Reset the speakers and begin a diagnostic. If reset won’t help send in the Attendants. And above all: stay calm. Got it?” She says, giving the puppet a reassuring squeeze. She’s not entirely sure if the reassurance is more for Euros or her. He nods at her through the trembling. “Good. Now I need you to let me go.”

“W- waaaaitzzz- I-,” he tries to force through the damage, his grip on her tightens.

But she can’t take any of that right now. He may need the comfort as this is the first time he’s had a blackout (she’s memorized his entire history of major failings, specifically those that occurred before she took this position. she knows for a fact that this is the worst he’s ever had so far, no matter the cause), but comfort to the mind does not equal to safety of the body.

“Not now. Let go.” She says in a firmer tone. He hesitates for a second, giving her this look of desperation and *shame* of all things. It just confuses and stresses her out more, dammit! But then he finally lets go and even pulls away from her as if she just scolded him.

That is something to address later though, she decides as she pushes herself off the ground and races to the control panel hidden in the corner of the chamber behind one of the four ladders. Her right hand grips the ladder and the other starts typing away.

The diagnosis comes up on the screen. It lists off all that is wrong. Makes only a note about the blackout in the puppet chamber, which sends a shiver down Sparrows’ spine. That means there’s something worse. It wasn’t just an innocent, even if unusual for a Generation 2, involuntary power reset.

The hearts are fine, but beating faster than their norm. Memory arrays are fine, though reporting heightened activity. Wouldn’t be surprising if the patterns matched for processing events with the logic centres chiefly active, but instead it’s patterns for more basic, animalistic thing. Pain.

Her heart sinks. In sympathy, pity, worry… Saints below she needs to help him.

Next it says that water intake has increased in an effort to cool down the machinery and... flush something out?? That… that is no good. She remembers in the back of her mind her older brother complaining about longer and fiercer rains as of lately. Originally she chalked it up to his usual craziness or typical older brother bullshit of complaining about something that she’s at least in part responsible for to annoy her. Now it seems like she owes Inferno an apology. There’s been something wrong for a good while, much to her dismay.

The scan-through of the diagnostic hiccups in the lab area. It lists a whole *fifth* as unavailable. That’s *insane.*

Sparrows hails an Overseer. Through the console, she quests it to go and scout out the area unavailable to the diagnostic scan and therefore to the internal cameras as well. She needs to know what’s happening.

At first, it lingers. With an apologetic expression she commands it with code to just go. It cannot disobey her as the Mechanic, so it zooms away.

The screen of the control panel switches to the Overseer’s vision. In tense silence, she waits as it makes its way all the way to the labs.

Then the nightmare only worsens…

Through the screen, she sees a cross. It is brilliant, rich royal blue, glowing, seated on an impossibly dark and squishy ball. It looks just like her eyes.

The speakers click from above. Euros calls out to her. She can’t hear him.

The Overseer travels into the actually infected area. Sparrows’ breath quickens, her palms feel clammy. She never expected to actually deal with the Rot, much less in the Iterator she’s fully responsible for.

And this is just the *outer edge* of the infection! Taking a quick glance at the map with the whole zone blacked out- she feels nauseous.

“Sparrows- please listen-”

The Overseer travels deeper. The typical sharp blue light of the labs is so damn dim…

Her right hand is white knuckled from the too strong grip. Her left is shaking uncontrollably and she vaguely feels tears welling up in her eyes from pure fear.

“I can explain! I have a good reason for not-”

Yet deeper, the Overseer dives. The structural damage becomes more apparent. Cut electrical lines zapping the air uselessly, equipment eroded beyond recognition, support pillars looking like someone threw acid at them. She notices multiple sets of Inspector eyes and trapped neuron flies in sticky blue tendrils.

*He has to be in so much pain- Why-?*

The Overseer scouts further. It enters a room so dark that it almost looks like the Void Fluid itself. Except those damn crosses everywhere.

A tendril reaches out for it from the dark. It narrowly dodges, reappearing a good ways away. Instantly, her left hand flies to the console to hail it back. Away. Just anywhere but there in that pit of pus and decay.

“Remember how your mom got badly sick two months ago? It might as well have been you in that state alongside her! You were so deathly worried- I’ve seen you two interact so so many times, I even got to meet her-! She visited me and I got to know her and she’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the honor of meeting!”

She feels like passing out or throwing up.

“I wanted to give you the time to take care of her. And rest some yourself, too. It was just an unfortunate accident during the time that gave a spark to this- I thought I could handle-!”

“You fucking IDIOT!” Three Sparrows has never screeched that loud before. She’s supposed to sound shy, mellow, sweet, kind of permanently sad. Not like a banshee. Not like she’s tearing her own throat apart like now as she whips around to level a whole Iterator with unbridled fury.

Euros actually yanks his puppet out of her reach, the thing curling up in an attempt at defense. Its lovely dark eyes wide with shock. He looks like a kid trying his best to make it through another beating and that breaks her heart somewhere deep down, it does. That is her *dearest companion* she’s chasing into a corner, not some prey animal.

But it doesn’t feel like she’s the one behind the steering wheel of her own body anymore. There is no reason, no consideration- nothing but horrible horrible rage. She spits and growls and her words become interlaced with shameful hisses, full of venom of a terrified animal.

“How are you so moronic! You were literally made to be one of the most intelligent things in this fucking world, yet you manage to be dimmer than a goddamn bolt! Do you even know what that thing is?? That is the Rot!! The one thing that can *KILL* you if it manages to run even a LITTLE rampant. And what did You do???”

“I just-”

“SHUT UP! I forbid you from speaking to me, Caper of Euros! You are allowed to only listen, so you may- HOPEFULLY- learn at least a semblance of a something from this- if I even manage to save you at all!”

He pulls his puppet higher now, to escape her. He stares at her, speechless just as she ordered him to be, with desperate betrayal dancing in his eyes. As if his feelings of that could triumph over her own.

“We agreed that you’d Tell me if *anything,* no matter how small, would go wrong while I’d be away! I TRUSTED you! And you broke that! YOU- You- URHG!” Sparrows clutches at her head in panicked confusion on what to do next, in inability to think straight through the anger and the feeling of being harmed, in worry for his well being. It’s too much.

“You broke *ME!”* She screams at the top of her lungs through her sore throat, the cruel mix of emotions and feelings makes the last word shrill, shaky. So damn ugly.

Euros only looks away and pulls the puppet all the way into the furthest corner of the ceiling from her with a whine of the chamber. It’s far enough that she has trouble making out any of his features.

She could simply take his umbilical cable and pull on it hard enough to force him. She could just order him to come back down without expanding any physical effort at all. Could curse and yell into his face while he’d have no other choice but take it, all the while completely on mute, without any way of defending himself. She could carve this horrible moment into his mind with trauma *deep* enough that he would never be able to rid himself of it, only with a complete wipe.

…instead, her hands slide down her head, gripping far too hard at the stems growing at the sides of her jaw. She pulls on them firmly until the physical pain outweighs the emotional one, until it forces her to finally get grounded and give up the entirety of the disgusting storm inside of her.

With a deep exhale and closed eyes, she lets go.

After holding that position for a few more seconds, she takes a deep breath again and opens her eyes. The chamber has turned impossibly dark almost like during the blackout, obscuring Euros’ puppet completely. It isn’t the darkness of the deep carmine it takes on when he iterates, it’s the kind that she only read about in the reports of his first Mechanic.

The first one wasn’t a good person. Sparrows met her herself, when she came in for her first day fresh out of school. She was a tall one, wrinkles twisting her face into a permanent scowl. Sharp eyes and shoulders, pointy mask. She was too strict without any kindness to soften it, too mean, too biting with her words. Sparrows spent a single day on a tour with her and had enough. Euros has dealt with her for 86 years since the moment he was turned online. Since his most vulnerable days- as a clueless *child.*

The piece of Sparrows that still wishes for nothing else but motherhood recoils in disgust and shame.

For the first time in her decades of service here, she gets treated to Euros’ very own special coping mechanism created because of One abusive bitch. This darkness has been here longer than her life spans out. This hiding place is a scar she reopened and even though her anger and panic are fully justified, she still feels terrible.

Sparrows looks up into the corner where she knows Euros is trying to hide himself from her sight (quite successfully, if it weren't for the glowing umbilical cable he'd be gone. he even disabled his halo). Her brows are still furrowed, but otherwise her features no longer hold rage. Despite the change, he doesn’t move a single piston. She can understand.

Taking a one step backwards, where the exit out of the chamber is, her gaze shifts down to the floor. With a deep breath, she attempts to speak but it comes out uncharacteristically raspy, hurting. She clears her throat, tries to wet it up so she can speak this damn language at all.

Deep inhale. “I forbid you from sending Overseers after me.” Her tone is defeated, unsure of giving out an order like this without the blindness of anger backing her up. She prefers... not to dictate him around. “Or any other piece of yourself, Hivemind.”

“For your own good.” She croaks, turning around and leaving him behind.

#rw #rain world #oc: three sparrows #oc: caper of euros #oc tag #philosophy sessions au #my writing

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

Note

Krulu with an admin that is so sleep deprived (probably because of B's at the clergy) she's getting delerious, to the stage of everything being halarious.

[So, a normal day, yeah?]

(Minors dni)

It's not easy.

It's really not easy. Everyday one of these incompetent bastards gets into a petty quarrel and you have to be the poor sod that has to piece everything back together. It is part of your role here Admin, he says, they will listen to a pretty face much faster than they would me. Yeah right, you're pretty sure they don't take you seriously at all. Maybe he just thinks it's funny to put you through this, day in and day out because mister tall dark and angry can't do it himself-

You realize we share the same headspace, do you not?

Apologies, my worship...

Your eyes are trying to roll back into your skull the longer you listen to Vinnel rave and froth about this supposed troll woman that insists on antagonizing his shows. The same individual that is apparently stealing the free-roaming bobbles from the establishment.

" Oh OH- Can you believe she tried to take my Jingles?! It's the third time- Why can't you just ban her! Ban her ban her! "

His screeching is incessant...

You hired him!

You agreed to this.

Fucking... Fine. Should I ban her?

No, this is extremely amusing. Besides, if the disease cannot handle a mere troll then it is not fit to work here.

You let out a cackle. This utterly humorless, hideous sound that ricochets off the break floor's walls. Your own hands drag down your face to halt the noise from becoming a sob.

Jingling is heard, presumably from the jester's shocked recoil. " You think this is funny, Admin?! Oh ho, having the time of your merry little life here, huh? " Great, you've struck a nerve in the insecure monster. If only you cared.

" You know, now that I think about it, clown- " You begin, knowing that using the same term the troll uses will set him off. " It is funny. I think it's hilarious that you're getting bullied by the same tiny monster that insists on feeding the bobbles like pigeons at a park. " There's a level of dry poison in your tone that rivals that of your lord, it may be their doing for all you know.

It is not.

He muses, fascinated.

Vinnel lets out a garbled, unintelligible noise behind his mask, which quickly flickers through enraged expressions. Shaking with fury, the jester makes an almost instinctive motion towards your smaller body. You don't even flinch as he looms over you, droplets of ebony tar caking the floor. You stare straight into those porcelain eyes because you know the monster will never get any rest the moment he dares put his claws on you. Vinnel controls himself by a very thin thread and a tense standoff is initiated. You're keenly aware of Krulu's rapt attention.

*Ding*

Some unfortunate soul exits the elevator. Perhaps the most unfortunate soul to have meandered in at this time. Patches. Carrying a small stack of papers and a coffee cup.

Vinnel's head snaps in the monster's direction so fast that a district crack is heard. Huh, you didn't know he had bones.

Makes two...

The broken jester forgets about you entirely and quickly moves to slap the items off Patches' grip. " YOU! "

The other blinks at his now coffee-soaked documents on the floor and narrows his sockets. " What is your damage...? " He simply asks, possibly the only person here to be more sleep-deprived than yourself.

" Tell your troll mistress I want my toys back, you weak little green munchkin- "

" M-Mistress?! I'll have you know that me and Liva are- "

You should be panicking. You should be putting a stop to this. It's your job. But it's hard to care when you've only had about three hours of sleep. You only came into the break floor to get a fucking snack, not to deal with this shit before the establishment has even opened its doors for the day. There's just not enough energy in you to give a fuck.

Patches' shriek jolts you to reality, Vinnel appears to have shoved his tail into the dullahan's socket and pulled it out through the other one. The sight makes you laugh near hysterically. Even funnier is when Patches sets the inside of his pumpkin skull on fire and Vinnel throws himself around as he desperately tries to put out the flames quickly spreading to the rest of his suit. His screaming is like scratching nails on a plate, but your mad roar of laughter drowns it.

... Come to my floor, you clearly need rest.

You cackle so hard there's tears in the corners of your eyes.

A poke to your side startles you. Grimbly is looking up at you as the little monster casually hands you a cup of coffee. Has he been here this entire time? Or did the mention of a big-breasted woman summon him instantly?

" Wow, you look like shit Admin. Have you been doing that skin care routine I told you about? "

You're wheezing now, the tears have not stopped running down your face.

Just a good old Monday.

#Krulu oc #Vinnel oc #Patches oc #no mercy for you

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rogueshadeaux · 1 month

Text

Chapter Thirty-Four — Vengeance

My heart was hammering away in my chest, and I was hoping, praying that this was a bad dream somehow. A classic nightmare, where no matter how fast I tried to run, the monster would always catch up. Maybe I'd be lucky enough to wake back up in the van.

6.8k words | Godspeed soldier | TRIGGER WARNING: monsters [imaged below, sorry], injury, blood, guns.

We both turned and stumbled, more out of shock than fear; the little curled up bodies of the crab-guys in the other testing chambers were stirring, shaking off the permafrost as if the wailing of the Ravager was their alarm clock. The floor shook hard as the Ravager broke through the ground just under the glass, a blast of cold air attacking our ankles. “Dad!” I screamed, stumbling over my feet a bit as the vibrations threw me off. Brent caught me by the back of my shirt and yanked me straight, pushing me forward as his skin turned silver, steel overtaking his body.

Dad stood at the end of the hall, trying to look past us at whatever was making that noise as we ran as fast as we could. The Ravager was faster, though; it hooked its claws under the glass and yanked, making the tempered glass shatter like it was nothing. It seemed like nothing, compared to the creature — I guess it just needed to find the right angle. I looked forward again to Dad, who caught me in his arms when I ran close enough to look me over, checking me for injuries. “What happened?” he demanded, looking between Brent and I. Zeke was beside him in an instant, storing the centuries-old phone away as everyone’s newer models came up to illuminate the hall just in time to catch the gleam of the Ravagers’ shell as it ran left, shoulder checking the glass of one of the other testing chambers and shattering it with the hit.

“It’s releasing them,” Brent realized, looking over at me, scared.

Zeke huffed, almost surprised. “Those are Bertrand’s swamp monsters,” he said, looking at Dad. “We need to go, now!”

Dad’s hand gripped my back and he pushed me forward, the softness of them quickly becoming violent pokes as he pulled concrete out.

But I didn’t wince. I didn’t care about anything except getting out of there.

Garbled, monstrous screams bounced off of the pristine walls again and again until I swear, my ears were bleeding with the sound. Zeke was surprisingly fast for his age and stature, vaulting over an overturned desk as he led the charge to the exit, Brent and I hot on his tail with Dad close behind as we flew through the damaged entrance to the lab, leaving behind every crash and scream. There was another sound layered on top of that, a compound, stacking bricks sort of sound, and I glanced back to see Dad stopped by the entrance, trying to seal it up with concrete. Brent skidded to a stop beside me, pointing his phone’s light back and catching the glowing glint of the crab-like swamp monsters’ eyes as they galloped towards the gap, Dad barely sealing it in time. He took a tentative few steps back as the creatures' muffled screeches of protest bled through the man-made rock, asking, “Do you think that’ll hold them back?”

Zeke, behind us, shook his head. “It won’t be enough,” he said, so surely that all Dad could do was turn and motion at us to get going.

“Is there any way to kill them?” Dad asked.

Zeke nodded. “Two: hit them with UV rays, or with enough force.”

We dashed down the hall, passing the rounded doors for every other experimental laboratory that we had planned on looking through. “What about the other rooms?” I huffed, trying to keep up with the men as I ran. God, I needed to work cardio back into my life.

“That doesn’t matter!” Dad insisted. There was a horrible grinding sound, and then crumbling as the concrete wall welded into the open doorway began to crack, gaps making the screams of the creatures behind it all the more clearer. “Shit,” Dad growled.

But I wasn't known for my luck, as of late. Especially not right now, as a portion of the concrete wall fell away and a swamp monster forced itself through the gap, blundering for us as the others tried to follow.

It used its front claws to launch itself forward, rushing towards Dad and catching a slab of concrete to the face just before we entered the atrium of the underground base. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get to the elevator shaft!” Brent shouted.

Zeke stopped in place, turning to wave Dad forward as he turned away from the swamp monster he just chucked concrete at. “Go with them, I’ll be right behind you,” he said, pulling a gun from some hidden holster in his jeans. With a click, a little flashlight on it turned on, illuminating the path to shoot.

Dad nodded, running to catch up with us and moving to grab me by the elbow, Brent just a few steps ahead as we dashed down the crescent shaped stairs. I didn’t dare turn to look at what was happening behind me; there were more monstrous screams now, and a few gunshots before the entire earth seemed to shake. The rumbling got stronger until fissures began cracking the floor between Dad and I, the concrete crumbling apart.

“Jean—” Dad tried to warn me. Didn’t matter; we were both suddenly thrown in either direction as something crawled through the floor, tripping Brent as well. I rolled, my arm twinging in pain as the cast cracked against the ground. Thank God whatever Dr. Sims made it of was strong enough to not break. My phone flew off somewhere in the distance, the bleak light from its flashlight disappearing in the kicked up rubble. That giant creature, the Ravager, burst out of the ground, shatterings of concrete and moist dirt and soil flying away as it clawed its way to the surface, blocking the way to the elevator shaft and immediately eyeing Brent who was three feet away and on his ass. It opened its mouth to hiss, the entirety of what wasn’t shell emitting a bioluminescent glow as it began to trample towards him.

Brent was all steel, sure, but I wasn’t sure that was a good thing when the Ravager could shred through concrete like it was playdough. Its clubbed front legs straightened to reveal blades as sharp as a stinger for claws as it reared back on hind legs, prepared to pierce Brent where he sat splayed on the ground. My arms were out before I even fully registered the thought, water spiraling down their shape and out towards the monster, combining in their dance into a spray with the strength of a fireman’s hose. Not that it did much to the creature; it didn’t go flying back like Augustine did when I used this move on her, but it did make the upper half of the creature’s body snap back, throwing off its strike and giving Brent enough time to burst into a halo of steel and fly off on the wings they created when they rewelded back to his body. My stream stopped in time to allow the Ravager to be hit with three of Zeke’s bullets, the man shouting over the deafening ringing of gunfire, “Behind us!”

The swamp monsters were now barreling to meet their ringleader, six of them storming into the atrium and immediately honing in on Zeke, who turned to empty his clip out into them. Brent landed from the skies and was letting the wings melt away into his hands, creating two spears that he immediately threw at the creatures.

My eyes scanned the floor for the one thing that would help with this fight — my phone. There was next to no lighting in the atrium save for the weak emergency lights, and while Dad had the benefit of his concrete powers glowing and Zeke’s weapon light was bouncing around the area enough for Brent to see a little of what he was doing, I wasn’t so lucky. I was nearly blind in this fight, barely able to tell concrete from creature.

But there, a few yards away, laid my phone, lilac phone case blackened by dirt and rock. I ran towards it without hesitation, scooping it up and looking at the shattered screen in dismay. Goddamnit, this was a new phone! I hissed as my thumb caught the corner of a piece of glass, moving to try and pull the little piece out with my teeth when I heard “Jean!” behind me.

The Ravager’s six beady red eyes seemed to zero in on my form before it dropped a shoulder and charged, intending to mow me down like a linebacker.

I yelped, my heart dropping out of my chest as the Ravager thunder towards me — and I couldn’t think of anything better to do than to turn into water. I didn’t even move; my watered form stayed standing there until the Ravager cut through it and crashed into the wall behind me headfirst. The bits of me ripped apart by its impact stitched back together, and I was running away towards Dad before those parts of me regained skin, falling into his arms still wet enough to leave stains on his sleeves.

His hands came up to cup my face, and he turned it each way a little, flashlight shining down in one hand as he checked on me. “You okay?”

I nodded vigorously; I wasn’t hurt, but god, I was scared. “What do we do?” I asked, the panic in my voice making the words fly quick.

Dad looked around at the chaos before quickly pulling me around him, using himself to shield me. “Stay by me,” he said, tone fierce.

The Ravager had run into a wall, shaking its head and turned back around to look at Dad and I and hiss out a very loud and absolutely angry snarl, unphased. In fact, it didn’t look hurt at all; its hard shelling was strong enough to keep the wall from even giving it a bruise. It took a few tentative steps forward, gnashing its teeth and those horrifying pincers around it. There were a few more pop offs, and I glanced over to where Zeke and Brent were. They stood, backs to each other, one mowing down the creatures with bullets while the other used a longsword he still managed to swing around with one hand, the other haphazardly holding up his phone to light the way for the slashes.

Most of the swamp monsters were preoccupied with Brent and Zeke, but two looked over as the Ravager hissed again, turning to charge towards us. “Dad!” I warned, lifting my hand to let water overtake the cast on my arm.

I sprayed one in the face, intent on waterboarding the thing while Dad lifted his arms, concrete returning. It spun, faster and faster until the shards of cement were whistling as they rotated, and when he flexed they exploded from him, a fanned out row of rock hurtling towards the creatures and cutting them at the knees. One’s backwards knee cap snapped back until it ripped clean out of its socket like a shelled crab, leaving behind a sad bit of dangling tendon and a wailing creature that immediately teetered sideways. The other, the one I was hosing down, took the brunt of the hit to the chest, stumbling back. Blood came oozing out of its cracks…pure black, sticky and slick and tar-like.

Dad and I glanced at each other, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. “Do you have anything that could hold a sample?” He asked, before raising his arm to send a shot of rock towards a creature that got too close to Brent. I shook my head.

To the left, the Ravager straightened, raising its upper body high as if it was presenting itself — but it didn’t move to charge. It wasn’t even looking at us. Its maw opened wide, the screeching now replaced by this gross gastric gurgling as it coughed once, twice, three times before shooting off glowing spitballs of phlegm towards Dad and I.

I raised my hands, pushing my water forward until it created a wall and catching the gross spitballs before they could splatter on us. Or, I caught most of them; some slipped through with their velocity and splattered beyond the wall, only slowed in their arcs. Three splashed on the ground in front of us, one so close to Dad’s shoe that he got the splashback from its impact — and he immediately cursed as the green-tinged phlegm began to burn pinprick holes in them, making him kick the shoe off as it worked past his sock and threatened to chew through his foot.

Oh, great. Acid reflux — literally.

I threw the wall of water back at the creature, letting it become a wave that smacked it in the face. Not that it reacted to that hit; it barely reacted to any of our hits. Nothing seemed to be able to cut into its exoskeleton — even the acid slipped away from it, turning the leathery skin at the joints raw but refusing to eat through the creature’s body otherwise.

The Ravager shook off the pain and growled, digging its feet into the ground to prepare to charge. Dad pushed me away. “Go to Brent,” he commanded. The concrete that was circling his arms paused in place and snapped to his skin, seeming to birth more rocks from it as they overtook his body, giving him his own hard shell. “You two get a sample of that…blood, and then we’ll all make a break for it,”

Dad folded in on himself until he was a ball of broken concrete, rolling away like some messed up Sonic the Hedgehog. His form jumped from the mass, the excess concrete piling under him to vault him forward, letting him land his encased hands directly into the Ravager’s chest. It was almost like I could feel the hit in my own chest as the sound of the impact vibrated through the air, the Ravager falling back. It reached out and grabbed Dad by one of his ankles as he tried to jump away, chucking him across the room until he hit a pristine white wall so hard it bent around his frame.

And as Dad slid down the wall unmoving, the Ravager’s eyes zeroed in on me once more, and it screamed.

“Shit,” I muttered, turning to run towards Brent.

The Ravager raked at the ground with surprising speed, burrowing under it like it was a foamy bath and not actual concrete as I dashed towards the pair of men fighting against the smaller monsters, praying Zeke wouldn’t stick a bullet between my eyes in the crossfire. Not that that fear was warranted; he was landing every shot with almost near precision, the only issue being that the swamp monsters’ skin was so leathery it took a few bullets to weaken the skin enough to let some brass pass through. There were still four standing, all giving Zeke and Brent a run for their money.

And I wasn’t in a good position to defend them.

It wasn’t even about healing — I couldn’t think of a good way to protect them both from the creatures using my water. They’d slice through any waves I’d make, and I didn’t have enough power to continuously spray them down without needing something to drain. And using my powers to look for a drain source proved fruitless; there was water flowing through the pipes behind the walls, but the biggest issue was they were behind the walls.

But I didn’t need to be the heavy hitter right now. I just needed to get Brent, get a sample, and get out.

So I brought my hands together and pushed, the powerful hose that came out knocking a swamp monster away and clearing the path for me to make eye contact with Brent, who was quick to pull me beside him. “Where’s Dad?” he asked, looking around.

I glanced back to where I last saw him to see him amid a pile of concrete rubble, shakily getting into a standing position — and to see the ground begin to crack again as the Ravager began burrowing its way closer to us. “Look out!” I called.

Brent pushed me back and watched the Ravager's burrowing, timing its breech as the steel around his arms grew wide. The moment its ugly little head popped out followed by its huge front arms, Brent shoved his arms out, creating a huge saw that spun so rapidly I could hear it whizzing. It zoomed towards the Ravager like a woodshop machine gone rogue and slammed into its chest, a webbing of fissures ripping through the exoskeleton.

He was strong enough to hurt it.

The Ravager shook the hit off with ease, though; it pulled itself out of the hole the rest of the way, slamming its hands against the ground before moving to return the favor to Brent, who dodged the hit.

“Dad said we need to get a sample of the thing’s blood and run!” I shouted over the noise of the Ravagers’ screaming, watching it in case I needed to humidify and dip. Zeke aimed for its back and lodged three bullets in the hard shell, the Ravager spinning in place to concentrate on him instead.

“Why the fuck would we do that?” Brent demanded, throwing a hand out to shoot another saw at the Ravager’s back, cracking the shell along its spine.

“It looks like tar!”

Brent glanced over at me, bewildered, before his eyes traveled over my shoulder and he shouted, “Behind you!” while roughly pulling me into him. His arm coming over my head and the shrapnel that shot off of it swiped painfully at my head, making me yelp.

“Don’t fucking scalp me!” I complained, watching the steel form into sharp curved boomerangs that spun before connecting with the swamp monster, slashing away at its body.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Brent demanded, glaring down at me as the creature stumbled back. His eyes shot everywhere, considering his next move “I’m gonna pin down the thing,” he told me as the swamp monster shook its head, trying to recover. Brent’s hand came up and some of the steel in it slivered away, coupling in his palm until it was a small vial with a screw top. He held it out for me to take. “Get that sample when I do.”

The Ravager screamed behind us both, taking our attention; Zeke was trying his best to stand against it, but he was a fly to a horse in a situation like this. Miniscule, barely bothersome, and at risk of being squashed. The Ravager swept a claw at Zeke and he barely rolled out of the way in time. There was a blur of rock and amber and Dad was suddenly behind us, hands sweeping out to let off this row of concrete shots that barely flew over Zeke’s head as he stayed down, knocking into the Ravagers’ knees and forcing it to fall flat on its face. “Go,” Dad commanded over the noise of its screams. “Get the sample and then get out of here.”

“But Dad—” Brent and I both began to object.

“Go!” He insisted louder.

He pushed Brent back, hard shell against firm steel, and that was enough to get us both moving. Brent zeroed in on the swamp monster when we turned, hands twitching as he decided on what to do. “Stay behind me,” he commanded, passing me his phone.

Brent balled up his fists and began to jog towards the swamp monster, who had righted and gave one long, chittering scream before rushing to meet him halfway. Steel was crawling down his arms again, welding to his knuckles before bubbling up to create studs along them, sharp dusters he used to uppercut the creature’s chin. Its head snapped back and he roughly pushed into its chest, making the swamp monster lose its balance on those weird arms it had. A shot of steel followed, slicing away at the grayed skin on its chest and sending a large splatter of that black blood everywhere, soaking us both as the hit tripped the swamp monster further. The moment its claws came up to try to stabilize itself, Brent finished by throwing out his hands, silver stripping away from the extra build on his arms and shooting out and stretching as they torpedoed towards the creature and wrapped around its wrists like snap bracelets. The monster fell back with the force and its shelled back cracked against the white cemented ground.

“Get it, now!” He yelled, keeping his hands extended as if holding the steel was the only thing keeping the swamp monster down.

I nodded, trying to keep energy in my feet as I ran towards the swamp monster. This was horrifying in a way, like approaching a shark with a bloody hand out to pet it; I was sure I was gonna be monster mash — and not the annoying Halloween song. But getting closer, close enough to look the swamp monster in its cataract-covered eyes, made me feel bad for it. There were parts of its face darker than others, and in the illumination of Brent’s phone flashlight, it took me too long to realize it had freckles splashed across its nose. Like I did. Something normal, something human, stayed with the transition to whatever this was.

This swamp monster was once an inactivated Conduit. This creature was once a normal person, damned to a life of whatever this was. Left forgotten underground for almost twenty-six years.

Even with its pincered face, I couldn’t look at it as I unscrewed the steel bottle Brent gave me, holding the lip of the vial close to its chest and waiting an annoyingly long amount of time for enough blood to drip into it.

Well, they’d have to take what little I got, because as I sat there, mere inches from the swamp monster, the cuffs on its wrists began to shift with its struggle, threatening to dislodge from the cement. Brent growled behind me with that same groan he’d make on the final reps of his exercises, straining to say, “Jean, move—”

Too little, too late, though.

I barely turned before I was being hit in the side, the same one with the barely healed slice, being thrown like I weighed nothing. I rolled a few times, my already-burning side lighting up even further as it hit the broken ground again and again, leaving me to writhe in pain. I could barely register the vibrating in the ground until the swamp monster was hovering over my form, gnashing its pincers as the black on its chest dripped down onto my abdomen. It screamed, bringing it's claws up and preparing to stab through me.

And hilariously, the only thing I could manage to think was Ah fuck, this is gonna hurt.

I could barely see the swamp monsters’ figure through the tears in my eyes, but my ears picked up on something as Brent yelled, “Heads up!”

I groggily turned my head, wishing I had enough wit about me to ask Brent what the hell he thought I could do in a position like this, but it didn’t matter — he wasn’t talking to me. His hand shot out and with it came ribbons of steel that parted from his arm like some weird Spider-Man webbing, shooting over me and distracting the swamp monster, making it stagger back. I watch the ribbons gather close and latch to each other, bending and twisting into a chain link that Dad caught, the end whipping around to lash the creature’s face and make it wail. He leapt between the swamp monster and I, concrete slithering down the chain and welding to the end like those medieval weapons, using it to beat on the creature until a blow to the head was enough to cause it to crumple in place, either dazed and damaged or dead.

Dad rushed over to me, forcing me to sit up as he demanded, “Are you okay?”

I coughed hard a few times as he pulled me to my feet. “Y–yeah,” I replied shakily.

Dad inspected my cast before seeing what was in my hand. “You got the sample?” he asked, eyes scanning. There were still three swamp monsters and the Ravager, who seemed to be trying to square off with Brent now. Dad threw a look over his shoulder. “The exit’s clear,” he realized, before looking at me with earnest eyes. “You need to go.”

“I can’t leave you guys—” I began to plead.

“We’ll be right behind you, okay?” He reassured me. “But you go while we have them distracted.”

“But—”

“Go!” Brent screamed, insisting. He was throwing sharp blade after sharp blade at the Ravager.

I looked between them, heart hammering in my chest; I didn’t want to leave them. I didn’t want to even risk not being by their sides in case something happened. But realistically, what use was I here? The middle of my back was spasming in pain, and not just from rolling against the ground — I was running low on power supply. I needed to drain, and there was simply nothing to drain.

So, with the tears in my eyes more from fear than pain now, I nodded. “Okay,”

You’d think, when you get amazing superpowers, that you’d be able to stop just about any force that comes your way. I thought I would be able to, and was sure of it after the fight with Augustine. But water wasn’t the weapon to use against these things. To distract and maybe trip them up, sure. Defeat, though? I couldn’t think of a way to do it.

And I think that was the worst part of it all as I began to run towards the exit: that I was failing in keeping my family safe.

I turned forward and put all my strength into my running, feet beating against the floor and jumping where it was broken by the Ravager. The popping of the gunshots stopped, and I could hear another set of footsteps pounding after me, glancing back to see Zeke hauling ass. “Go, go, go!” he chanted at me, waving me forward as he vaulted over another fissure in the ground. I got to the entrance hallway just before Zeke, turning to watch Dad and Brent both try to tackle the two remaining swamp monsters and the Ravager on their own. Dad wrapped the chain twice around a swamp monster’s neck and pulled so tight it snapped the creature’s spine, Brent putting a clean shot of silver rebar through the chest of the other one. The last thing to contend with was the Ravager, who looked very ready to make itself their problem.

Zeke ran past me, moving to grab me by the elbow. “C’mon, we need to get you to—” he started.

“Not without them!” I insisted as the Ravager turned to face Dad again, spitting out more acid. Dad flinched and instinctively shielded his face with his hands, the acid that landed on them immediately beginning to eat away the skin. He howled out in pain, and Brent’s head snapped to look at Dad, not seeing the Ravager swing towards him its clubbed foot hit his chest, sending him sprawling back.

Brent flew back, Dad shaking his arms to try and get the acid off — and pulling the full attention of the Ravager. It screamed and moved to go after Dad, and my scream was only eclipsed by the loudest popping known to man, my ears immediately ringing in protest as Zeke shot a few bullets towards the Ravager, trying his best to give Dad a distraction to get away.

But he was too distracted to take it.

Brent dashed forward and shadowed Zeke, grabbing Dad by his elbow as he struggled to concentrate on anything but the pain in his forearms and yanking him along as he dodged the Ravagers’ downward slam of its fists. Brent pushed him forward, urging him to run before turning to face the Ravager fully.

“Brent!” I tried to scream over the Ravager’s own wail. That fucking idiot, what was he doing?!

Dad nearly stumbled over broken concrete in his haze, barely able to concentrate on anything as he fought through the pain in his arms. Zeke let me go and was gone in a flash, rushing to meet Dad halfway and help lead him towards the exit.

Meanwhile, the Ravager unfurled its clubbed claws to slash at Brent, who was too busy watching Dad be pulled away from the action to realize the move until it was too late to dodge. The claw raked across the back of his shoulder just as he went to turn, shredding the shirt and raking against his steel skin.

And with a horrible, teeth grinding scrape, the claw caught on some invisible part of his steel and sliced into him, revealing just how thin the skin was.

Red on silver was always a favorite composition of mine. How could you not love it? Almost any sort of red was accompanied by silver; Christmas trees, bedrooms. Dad even had a red guitar back in Chapman and the silver pickups and bridge were far better than the black pickguard, in my opinion. But watching blood slowly seep out of the slice in his steel, red ebbing the edges of the silver and sinking into his shirt, did nothing but fill me with dread. Brent cried out as he was thrown aside with the claw and I swear I could feel my soul slip away from my body as the Ravager hissed at him.

Zeke and Dad entered the hall just as I rushed to leave it, Zeke barely catching me in time as I passed him. “Where the hell you going, kid?” He asked me, holding onto my arm firmly.

“He’s hurt!” I retorted, glancing back to watch Dad stumble into the hall. He was hurt too, bad; I could almost hear the pops as acid ate away at his arm, becoming red in rash, tissue and blood.

Shit, they both were hurt.

Zeke didn’t let go of my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. “You go out there, you’re gonna give us a lot more trouble than we have now.”

I glared at him. “I’m not just gonna leave my brother out there!”

Zeke looked forward, blinking in surprise. “I don’t think he needs the backup,” he muttered.

Brent had righted and was now staring down the Ravager, who was standing on its knuckles and hissing at him as he stood between us and the monster. Neither moved, though — it was like they were in a standoff, waiting for someone to draw first.

And Brent was quicker.

The shine of his steel seemed to glow silver as it slowly peeled away from his body, leaving him in normal skin as it flittered like paper in the wind. I’d never seen his power move so slowly before, and while it was pretty and all, I wasn’t exactly happy seeing it happen while he was facing off with a creature from Resident Evil.

But it didn’t just pull away and flutter to the ground; it caught some invisible wind, picked up by the force and began to swirl around Brent’s feet as more steel flaked away from him, adding to the swarm.

Meanwhile, Zeke pulled me into the entrance, and motioned to Dad, immediately saying, “Rinse that acid off of him, it’ll help,” like he had experience with these burns. I guess, in all honesty, he probably did, considering he’d dealt with these creatures before. I coaxed Dad to sit down, trying to make eye contact with him and not exactly feeling good that his eyes were so glazed over that he couldn’t. Water began to pour down my arms, clearing out the gaping and angry red wounds that littered his arms in a spotted fashion.

Dad hissed, face pale, and I hummed. “I’m almost done,” I said, trapping the acid in bubbles and letting them float away back into the atrium and to the side, away from everyone else.

Zeke was standing guard, looking into the atrium and muttering, “What on earth is that kid doin’?”

I glanced over at Brent, surprised to see him now surrounded by this spinning spiral of shrapnel, a stairwell of jagged razors from over his head down to his feet, swirling like a shield around him. Steel was crawling up his back like some stiff symbiote, building on his arms in a kite-shaped bend that let the long triangular ends lay on each other like scales, the tips flared out to make him the world’s most dangerous armadillo. The Ravager moved to swipe at Brent and its clawed hand instead met bladed steel, slicing off the tip. Brent’s arms pushed out like he was trying to shove something away, and the sharp blades around Brent suddenly went from a rotating shield to lying flat, ends spinning as they coupled up like the blades of a saw as they flew outward from him in all directions.

Including ours.

“Delsin!” Zeke shouted, gun lowering. Dad looked to the side, eyes barely widening through the pain as he registered the claw-shaped metal spinning in circles as it flew towards us. His hand shakily raised and with a pained gasp, concrete digging up from the injuries in his arm and reminding me way too much about the pain I had felt when Augustine made those a nice feature of my leg.

A short concrete wall came up almost immediately, the three of us having to duck behind its jagged edge to avoid the slivers of steel that thudded against it only seconds after. The sharp end to one cut through the concrete and threatened to stab Zeke in the knee, missing by centimeters.

Beyond the barrier, the Ravager screamed like it was in pain and I peeked over it to see the monster stumble back as razors of steel embedded in its chest — but it wasn’t enough to stop it. Brent wasn’t ready to stop either, though; those reinforced arms came to cross his chest before swinging out diagonally, the kites on his forearms flying off with the throw and folding in on themselves until they became dart shaped. They spun like discharged bullets, each at least a good three feet long as they rushed towards the Ravager and pierced its shell, forcing it to stumble back. He threw his arms again and again, dart after dart shooting away and impaling the creature as it wailed, flinching away like a wounded animal. I guess it technically was.

Brent was unrelenting; the reinforcements on his arms slithered to his back and he was gone in a flash of silver, soaring towards the domed, tall ceiling. He reached the summit of his flight and seemed to hover there in space, barely perceivable to us on the ground in the dark. His silver caught the shine of an emergency light just as the wings ripped away from him, the panels shifting around his form as he came back down to earth. The panels around him gathered close, shreds of steel coming from nowhere to build on them until he was surrounded by giant misshapen spikes, metaled fist in its center and directing the missile drop straight on the Ravager.

The impact was so violent that the entire room shook, dust being knocked off of places that hadn’t seen a human’s touch in years. That horrible sound of scraping metal coupled over until it was more comfortable for me to press my cast against my ears in an effort to stifle the screech, bruising the side of my head with the push. We were lucky nothing collapsed with the shaking, and I was sure the wedding party above ground was feeling it too. There was more kicked up rubble where Brent and the Ravager had disappeared, a cloud of debris spreading wide and fast, leaving us to cough and wave it from our face as we tried to look through it for Brent’s form.

“D’you see him?” Dad asked me weakly, twinging with each cough.

I squinted, the cloud of dust slowly dissipating to reveal a pile of black and red in the center of a crater, the Ravager skewered a dozen different ways by steel, dead. In front of it, Brent was breathing hard as he stood shakily, trying to take a step forward and barely managing two before falling to his knees.

Zeke waved me forward and I was running for Brent, meeting him where he stayed on the ground and trying my best to pull him back up — ‘trying’ being the key word, as he was heavier than anything I could lift. But I could help prop him up as we staggered back towards the exit. “C’mon,” I huffed, trying to help him find his footing as he used my shoulder as a crutch. “Let’s get outta here,”

Dr. Sims pulled away from Dad. “There. Hopefully it’ll be fully healed in a few days,”

Dad was laying on the couch, wincing with every movement as he tried to get comfortable. I was sitting on the floor by his head with my hands in his hair, speeding up its drying process from his emergency shower by absorbing the water so the throbbing in my back would stop. That didn’t matter though. What mattered was that Dad looked like he was in so much pain. I hated it.

Dad looked over at me as Dr. Sims rose from his crouch, walking off with the remains of whatever was in Zeke’s first aid kit. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked me.

Why was he worrying about me? He was the one with bone visible in some spots. “I’m fine,” I said, trying to smile.

“No pain in your shoulders or anything? Promise?”

I shook my head, ignoring how the motion made my back twinge. “Promise,” I lied. He didn’t need to worry about me right now.

Brent stepped into the room, toweling away at his wet hair. His bruises were already that sickly yellow they get right before disappearing, road rash from the concrete cleared. I was a bit scratched up at the knuckles and my elbow was raw, but it was all minor stuff.

Better than what Dad was experiencing.

“How many other messed up creatures do you think they had in there?” Brent asked, moving one of the chairs at the small table to sit in. Dr. Sims was in the other one, reading away at the notes we stole from the First Sons’ base.

Zeke was in the kitchen, finishing up with cleaning out his gun. “I can tell you, for a fact, those weren’t the only monsters he could make. Who knows what else was down there.”

Dad huffed. “Probably a lot more information that could have helped us,”

“We have enough,” Dr. Sims tried to say in a positive voice. For the first time, though, I could hear his voice waver. “We at least know now that there’s powers that can corrupt Conduits, to varying degrees.”

Dad sat up a bit, wincing. “Yeah, and none of them are like what Jean’s experiencing.”

Dr. Sims slowly put down the x-ray, biting his cheek. “I suppose, now with this information, I can tell you I may have a lead that could help us.”

Dad slowly turned his head to regard Dr. Sims fully. “You what?” he asked slowly.

“There was someone I found while doing that conducrinopathy study, for the old DUP soldiers,” Dr. Sims began, before holding up a finger. “Well, no — Sia found them. A Conduit, a Prime Conduit, whose powers are turning against them.”

Dad glared up at Dr. Sims. “And you didn’t think to tell me this before everything?”

“I’m not in the habit of breaking doctor-patient confidentiality, Delsin,” Dr. Sims said back just as cooly, crossing his arms. “But that’s…what Sia emailed me about. She’s the patient’s power of attorney, and she’s giving me permission to evaluate them. And the person I sent the sample to? She’s got some results, and she wants to talk to us. She wants us to bring along Jean too for an evaluation.”

Dad looked unsure, throwing me a glance before regarding his friend again. “‘Bring along Jean?’” he repeated. “Where?”

Dr. Sims sighed. “Boston.”

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous #infamous 2 #delsin rowe #fanfic #fanfiction #Zeke Dunbar #Ravager Posting ig lol #Hated this asshole honestly. The hive lord version is worse tho #sucker punch productions #Aunt Sia Time!!! ....in a month...#and perhaps...other OCs have been teased 👀#get out of tags Gab you're killing the vibe

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clanofjones · 9 months

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The (Un) Secret Garden: Chapter One

Finally posting this!

My first ROTTMNT fic, I hope you all like it!

EDIT: The entirety of this fic is posted on my writing blog, @jaywritesturtles! Subsequent sequels will be posted there too.

Next Chapter

Ao3: complete!

Summary: The thing with an impromptu apocalypse is that it forces people - even those who hated each other prior - to join forces for the sake of survival. However, when the aforementioned apocalypse is averted - and by proxy, no stressed bonds are forced - then enemies are liable to remain enemies. Casey Jones never got that particular memo. Or: Big Mama manipulates Casey and the Disaster Twins gotta help him out.

Chapter One: Don't Crash Cars, it's Bad for the Economy

April's POV

"Go topside, they said. It'll be fun, they said!" April O'Neil grumbled as she, Cassandra Jones, and her son from the future, Casey Jones, sat in police custody.

A more accurate statement might be that April and Casey sat in government custody. Cassandra was hitting and kicking the bars as a policeman confiscated her bent naginata, Casey's tech-saw, and April's bat, shouting at levels previously thought not to be possible by human(?) lungs.

The only good thing about it was that the policeman couldn't hear a single word from the other two.

Or, rather, he wouldn't have been able to. Casey hadn't said a single word since being pulled over.

April nudged the future boy.

"You doing okay, Jones?"

"I think all the police were dead by the time I was born."

It was a very good thing Cassandra was making so much noise. Unless they had much more open minds since April had last been pulled over, then it would have been a very interesting conversation.

On April's last bout to the police station, it hadn't been her fault.

It had been Donnie and Sunita's fault.

April made a mental note to check if her friends could pass for humans as well as drive in a non-apocalyptic fashion that happened to spare any and all adjacent fire hydrants.

The policeman walked up to the temporary cell they had been placed in, apparently unperturbed by Cassandra's incessant screeching until she decided to spare her lungs. April looked at the officer

"Can we have our phone call?"

April tugged on the cord gently as the phone rang. Cassandra glowered at a man who was clearly actually incarcerated, and Casey's leg twitched as he shifted anxiously on a cold, hard bench.

"Chello~?"

April could make out Mikey's voice through the receiver and frowned slightly. She had called Donnie, right? But a garbled voice on the other end confirmed her suspicions.

"Mikey! Stop 'Chello~'ing a possible enemy!" That was (probably) Raph.

"And stop stealing my things!" Definitely Donnie...

"Hey, Donnie's stuff is fair game!" Leo.

"When did we decide that?" Donnie again. April sighed on her end and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Guys!" she said in a tone just below a shout.

"April!" Mikey exclaimed over the other end.

"Why are you calling from a station phone? I gifted you a Genius Built tech - trademarked, obviously - phone for a reason, April."

April cleared her throat and rolled on the balls of her feet. "Welp," she began, drawing out the 'e' in 'welp' before deciding to just bite the bullet and do it. "Remember when I said I'd take Casey and Casey topside to teach 'em driving?"

"Yes, we have the you-know-what all ready for them upon your return..." Donnie said skeptically.

"Well... We might've gotten into the smallest little crash ever," April could feel the crushing, expecting silence as her voice trailed off as someone dropped something. "And Casey jumped out of the window of the driver's seat, so Cass grabbed the wheel so we wouldn't crash into a pet store, and we crashed into a fire hydrant."

Silence on the other end. April chanced a glance at Cassandra and Casey and saw that Casey seemed to be expecting the electric chair. Cassandra, on the other hand, wasn't paying attention at all and was about five seconds from turning a staring-contest-turned-battle-of-wits into an actual fistfight with a definitely actually incarcerated prisoner.

"Is Casey okay?"

April nodded before she realized that they couldn't see her.

"Yeah, he's good. This lady shouted at him for a bit for jumping out of a car window and in front of her car, but he's fine now."

After a moment in which her friends on the other end seems to be taking the information in, April continued: "In any case, we still have a car with a busted hood, one grand to pay for the fire hydrant, and another three hundred apiece to Cass and Casey for driving without licenses. Mine's been revoked for a couple of weeks. If we can pay the fines now, then maybe we can get off without either of them serving any time," April explained.

"If Michael would give me my phone, then you'll be out before Pizza Week." April knew full well Donnie didn't need his phone to pay their fines, but there was no use bargaining with Donnie once you stole his phone. "Nay, within the hour!" Donnie amended, and April bet the first slice that he was posing dramatically if Leo's snickers were anything to go by.

"Thanks, Donnie. See ya in a few," April said as she placed the phone on its base.

Casey looked up at her with mild interest and pulled his jacket around himself slightly.

"Everything's fine. Knowing Dee, we'll be out in about an hour. We'll just have to stay off the roads for now, and maybe we can practice your and Cass's driving in Repo Mantis' junkyard if Mikey can convince him."

That seemed to placate him enough, although he still looked plenty guilty as his feet shifted awkwardly.

"Sorry about the car." If April hadn't seen his lips move, then she likely wouldn't have heard him.

"Pssh, it's fine. I'm sure Donnie would have lost his mind with all his genius energy and nothing to do with it if nobody ever broke anything. Think of it as us three keeping him sane."

Casey allowed himself to smile as April eased Cassandra out of her confrontation (fight?) by covering the ex-foot general's eyes and dragging her back by her hoodie, smiling awkwardly at the convict.

"Unhand me, O'Neil!"

April sighed as Cassandra allowed her to guide her to their holding cell.

"Good news is we're out in an hour or so. Donnie's taking care of the fees."

Cassandra pried April's hand from her eyes so that she could cast the convict one last glare, and pointed at her own eyes with two fingers, then flicking them to the convict, in an 'I'm watching you' gesture. However, even as her feet dragged on the cold floor, she allowed April to move her, which April supposed was a good sign.

As the lock clicked behind Casey, and April relinquished Cassandra, the latter sat with her legs crossed. April lay on her back with her legs propped up against the stone wall. She was suddenly exceptionally glad that they all had jackets on them, even if Casey's 'just in-case' hand warmers had been confiscated, along with everything else in their pockets and hands.

April supposed there were worst times to have been arrested, not even counting if any of them had been caught from the pictures taken during what Mikey had abbreviated to the 'Krangvasion' because boy would that have been a loaded conversation. At least by now, her human friends had learned to dress like humans, even if they couldn't drive like them.

Casey had situated himself in a corner, every few seconds his eyes would make repetitive rounds around the cell as if he were waiting for Krang to slither through the barred windows or the vents in the ceiling and floor. April sighed to herself -- the future boy hadn't given up his paranoid behaviors for anything since the invasion, barring pizza dinners and whenever the future boy played Mario Kart.

It was almost curious - Casey seemed to be trying to look for every conceivable problem known to humans, turtles, rats, or yokai whilst looking out for all of the aforementioned.

Looking back to Cassandra, April saw that the former seemed to have given up on demanding that their weapons be returned, as retrieval was imminent. Cassandra had situated herself nearest the bars in a perch-like stance.

An embarrassingly small amount of things followed in the stretching silence, especially since these were the two oddest, funniest humans she knew.

April supposed it was to be expected, especially considering that she hadn't exactly given the turtles the full story. The crash hadn't been strictly Casey's fault, and even so, he had reacted as April would have expected.

What had shocked Casey happened to be a relatively small portion - only about a foot or two in length, no more than half a foot tall - of Krang slime had emerged from a manhole.

If the phone call was anything to go by, none of the turtles were aware of it. Leo was the only one remotely capable of lying, and when it came to the Krang, the most popular reaction was to either break something or end up in a turtle pile - sometimes both, sometimes with the latter including their human friends. Either way, the turtles didn't know about the Krang's small return, and April intended to keep it like that unless Casey deemed it important enough to share.

Of the three of them, it was more his grounds for revelatory truths than April or Cassandra's.

However, after a numbing silence that stretched itself out, leaving recent events to linger with the three of them for who knows how long, April heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, girl!"

She sat up and saw Sunita - her slime yokai friend who so happened to be a cute fantastic friend and fighter - with her cloaking brooch on securely this time around, walk up to the holding cell as the hatch popped up, and she swung the door open by proxy.

"Sunita!" April cheered, and the Joneses' looked up as well. "Cass, you remember Sunita, you fought her when Leo and Donnie were dressed like old ladies and we were playing Lazer tag, remember?"

"I do recall. Lazer Tag is sacred." April and Sunita nodded.

"What's Lazer Tag?" Casey asked in a small voice, and Sunita's gaze flicked to him.

"Oh, you poor soul! I'm taking you to Lazer Tag. Saturday good?" Sunita asked instantly, and Casey blinked.

"Is it?" he responded in a tone of slight hysteria, like he wasn't sure if Saturday was cursed or not.

"Yes, you need to get out more," Cassandra said before turning to Sunita. "You were a worthy opponent, friend of April O'Neil," Cassandra said and extended a hand for Sunita to shake. "I am Cassandra Jones. You may call me Cassandra, Cass, or Casey."

"Nice to meetcha on the same side, Cassandra! I'm Sunita," the yokai said with a dashing smile that caused April to feel a little warm around the general region of her face, even if it wasn't directed at her. "Maybe you wanna come with me and your friend to Lazer Tag?"

"I shall attend!" Cassandra announced and pumped her fist into the air.

"And you've already met the other Casey," April continued, drawing Sunita's attention to her as she gestured to Casey, who was standing up as he watched Sunita carefully. Not unkindly, April made sure to note as she spoke. "Bit of a long story, so we'll tell you on the ride back."

Sunita waved to Casey, who waved back after a moment, as if realizing that was the appropriate thing to do, before offering a slightly belated smile of his own.

"Nice to meet you, Casey. Leo and Donnie are waiting for us with their ride, so we just gotta grab your stuff before heading out!"

Upon doing so, all three of them were significantly disenchanted upon the realization most of their weapons and tools had all been tampered with.

Cassandra's naginata had been visibly bent back into its original shape, although she re-bent it almost immediately.

Casey's hockey stick's chainsaw function had been removed, the small blades on their track removed separately, and he gathered them in a bag for reassembly.

Casey also managed to keep several weapons on his person, the same as his mother. Upon determining from fingerprinting that neither of them had committed any war crimes, Casey's grappling hook and Cassandra's blades were all returned, although promptly thrown out by the two, both claiming that any sort of tracer was dangerous. Besides, as Casey was quick to point out, they had a surplus back at the lair.

April's bat, it appeared, had remained untouched. She counted herself lucky Casey had used up his stash of the herbicide chemical that April had taken from one of Eastlaird's biochemistry labs that turned out to be lethal against the Krang, and the very same that Donnie had been replicating for such an occasion as today. If he hadn't, then there surely would have been questions, none of which any of them could safely answer.

But, one part of April's brain reminded her, Donnie would notice that Casey, the one whom you could count on to use resources sparingly, if nothing else, was out of the chemical, and he was the only one who had left the lair with any.

April had only just realized it as they stepped over the threshold, and saw the turtle tank within walking distance from the parking lot.

"Casey," she whispered to the future boy, and he leaned over to hear her properly. "I think we're going to have to tell Dee about the you-know-what. You're out of the chemical from my school that kills it, and you know how he gets about using it for anything short of another apocalypse."

Casey seemed to be slowing down as he took it in. "So, it's either we tell them or Donatello finds out."

April nodded. Cassandra had also slowed down, and April supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that her former enemy had been listening to the entire exchange.

"Do you want to tell them, or should Cass and I?" April whispered back, and Casey shrugged subconsciously before delivering his answer.

"I'll tell them. I crashed the car, after all."

April shared a small glance with Cassandra before Sunita turned around to look at them.

"Are you three doing good?"

"You betcha, Sunita!" April hurried to supply as the other two rushed to confirm it and picked up the pace. April could see the tank more clearly now, next to a car dealership. The large doors opened, and the four of them all checked a rough 360 degrees before entering, Cassandra pulling up the rear, and walking backward.

Casey's POV

Casey was currently regretting absolutely everything. The only good news he could gleam was that inventory wasn't ever taken until Donatello could spare more than ten minutes, back at the lair.

"Hey, could you drop me off at the Met? I've got a project I should get started on over there," Sunita - Commander O'Neil April's friend asked Donatello. Casey couldn't recall a Sunita from the apocalypse, so he figured she was either frequently gone, or had been one of the first to be killed or lost abroad.

Donnie must have nodded or something of the like because Sunita started heading towards a seat with a smile. As April and Mom Cassandra started towards the area where he assumed Sensei Leo was, he figured that was likely a better option than standing by the doorway. The retrieval was done, and he wasn't even the one retrieving, he was the one to be retrieved.

"Well, Case, good job," Casey turned abruptly and saw Leo standing there with an expression portraying vague pride, smugness, and utmost correctness. "You crashed your first car!" He held a three-fingered fist up but didn't follow through on what Casey had been sure would be a soft hit to his shoulder.

"What are you-"

"It's a fist bump, Case." Leo was looking at him like... Well, Casey wasn't sure how Leonardo was looking at him. It wasn't a face he'd ever seen the ninja make before, closer to a soft grimace than anything else.

"You make a fist," Leo waited for Casey to follow through, "and bump it against mine!"

Tentatively, Casey brought his fist against Leonardo's, and the latter grinned smugly, like always.

"Good job. Sometimes people do an explosion with a fist bump -" As he saw Casey's expression move in time with his rampant confusion (why would anyone have a bomb for a fist bump) he moved to explain: "Not an actual explosion! Like this, watch."

Casey did so as he lowered his fist, and Leo brought his own two fists together in a soft bump before drawing them away from each other, expanding his fists into open-palmed hands and making an exaggerated explosion sound.

Casey raised his fist again, and they brought their fists together, making that exaggerated explosion noise again.

"Nice," Leo said. Casey smiled to himself with the knowledge that he had done it right.

"Sincerest apologies for the interruption, but crashing a car is not an achievement, Nardo!" Donnie called from the driver's seat, spinning in it so that for about half a second, you could see a glaring softshell from any given angle.

"Hey, we've all done it, hermano. That makes it an achievement."

"Since when have I ever crashed a car, dearest brother?"

"Since you tried the auto-drive program on this very tank that you came up with, as I do recall!"

With a huff, Donnie spun his chair back to the windshield. "Well, I didn't give that elderly woman a heart attack, who is, might I remind you, the same woman whose 95th birthday our dear, dear brother Raphael ruined."

"Oh yeah, how's she doing?"

"Dead! Very, very, dead, Leo! Deader than the deadliest death that has ever been accosted by you dum-dums!"

The tank came to an abrupt stop, and Casey could see from his limited view of the windshield that they were in front of a grand building, the paint job on the upper-east region looking like it had been scrubbed with a giant piece of sandpaper, due to the Krang that had, until recently, been doomed to reside on it, and very nearly did so for more than a few hours.

"Your stop," Donnie said, spinning slightly to look at Sunita, who chirped out a 'thank you' to Donnie and a 'goodbye' to the rest of them before disappearing into the crowd.

"So... How was prison?" Leonardo asked, leaning back so he had Casey, Cassandra, and April all in his line of sight.

"It wasn't prison, blue one. We were briefly contained," Cassandra spat back, with a sour look on his face.

"In a jail cell. That goes on the record, you know."

"Whatever you call it, it was boring," April said, leaning even further back and landing on her back. Casey took the moment to pull her up, and they caught each other's eye, exchanging a glance with anxious overtones.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked without hardly moving her lips.

After a small pause, Casey nodded, equally inconspicuous.

"What's everyone whispering about?"

Apparently not as inconspicuous as they had both apparently thought, as Leonardo leaned over to better hear their conversation.

"Uh- Nothing! Just something Casey's gotta talk to you guys about!"

Casey swallowed nervously. Now there really isn't a way out of this, he thought to himself. He sent April a small glare, to which she gave him a look reminiscent of one he recalled Commander O'Neil using several times whenever anyone was being particularly dense.

"Alright. Don-Tron! Casey's got something he wants to tell us."

Donnie spun around, raised an eyebrow, held a soda can, and offered it to Leo.

"Spittake," he explained. Well, there was definitely going to be a use for that, Casey thought as his internal struggle increased. "Just don't get it remotely near the controls or I will dropkick you out of this tank."

Ignoring the threat (if it was even a threat anymore), Leo just nodded before responding: "Good thinking, hermano. Watcha got for us, Case?"

Casey took a deep breath as he chanced a glance out the window - the tank was maybe two minutes out from the lair. At least that was good.

"Well... It's about the crash. It-"

Leo cut over him before Casey could deliver the blow.

"It's fine, I don't know a single person who hasn't crashed a car. If they can drive a car, they've crashed it."

"It's not the fact that we crashed a car, it's..." Casey paused and tried to think if there was any way to sugarcoat what he was about to say, dress it up and soften the blow. He decided that there was not any sort of way to do so and that the only way was to bite the bullet and spit it out. "It's the 'why.' The car crashed because we came in contact with a small portion of Krang--"

If anyone ever cared to check the Turtle Tank's camera footage, they would be able to time it down to the exact second that everything spiraled out of control.

Casey paused mid-sentence to gauge the two turtles' reactions as to whether or not he should continue. As it happened, he discovered that he should not, thank you very much, as of about two seconds later, and the tank descended into the lair. Donnie inhaled as Leo continued to stare at Casey as if he had been Krangified.

"I'm sorry, for a second there I thought you said that the Krang are back?" Donnie asked, and his voice shook at the name.

"Only a little bit," April helpfully interjected from a few feet behind Casey.

"What car did you use, I will find it and scour it until I can find how it got in there, it will be gone in a matter of-"

"It wasn't in the car," Cassandra said slowly, cutting Donnie off, and the soft-shelled turtle tapped his hand on Leonardo's shoulder a few times before Leo blinked and took a breath, leaning against the wall of the tank.

"I saw it in the road and kind of freaked out," Casey continued. "Then I grabbed the chemical that Donatello replicated and used it all on the Krang. So, sorry for wasting-"

"Sorry for..." Leo repeated Casey in a low, soft voice before trailing off, and letting out a huff of air. "Casey, we have so much of that stuff, right, Don?" Donnie nodded, looking just as stricken as Leo looked and Casey felt. "Right. So that is the least of our concerns, mi amigo. Right now we have to figure out how the Krang got there and found you."

"Right, right," Donnie said distantly, but Casey noted that his death grip on the chair was tightening with each moment. Leo's own gaze was banging off the walls, ceiling, and floor as if expecting the Krang to jump out from nowhere. Casey would be lying if he wasn't paranoid at the moment either, and he cursed the policemen for dismantling his own weapon.

"Well, it came out of a manh-" April cut herself off, and Casey whirled around to look at her, and his mind was firing on all cylinders again, hoping upon hope that he wouldn't see the Krang spreading across her, eyes where eyes shouldn't ever be materializing-

But there was no pink slime, no off-colored or extra eyes, no scalene tentacles or spikes protruding from the wrong places. Just the April O'Neil of twenty-two years ago (or the present, time travel was still so confusing) with a fist closed over her mouth in an expression of deep thinking.

Then her eyes widened, and as Casey reflected on his ex-Commander's words, his own followed suit.

"What? Where'd they come from?" Leo asked, a nervous laugh teetered on the edge of his tone.

Casey cleared his throat of the bile gathering there and prayed that his tone would remain steady.

"Um," Great, one word -- no, not even a word, an onomatopoeia -- in and he'd failed at that. "The Krang are in the sewers."

Chapter Two ->

#cardinal rules #CR!AU #casey jones jr #rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #save rottmnt #fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fic #ao3

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needfantasticstories · 3 months

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Chaos in the Canyon

Hyrule had never been blindfolded before. He didn’t know until then how it would make the blood rushing inside his ears roar. He didn’t know until then how each step felt like walking over the edge of a cliff.

Someone jerked his ropes forward. The coarse fiber tightened and bit into his bruised and swollen wrists. He yanked and twisted violently back, ignoring the pain in his need to survive, but still they pulled. Desperate, Hyrule held his ground, his legs burning as he made use of every ounce of friction under his feet. He leaned back with all his remaining strength. Sweat dripped down his skin.

They pulled harder, dislodging him from the tiny purchase of flooring he’d found, and dragged him mercilessly onward.

Hyrule stumbled as the ground under his bare feet changed from polished slate to weathered and dusty stone. Deafening roars filled the air and vibrated into his feet through the floor.

They’d led him through a portal. Judging by the cacophony ahead, thousands of monsters waited for them outside of whatever they’d come to–a temple? A dungeon? A cave? He could not distinguish anything beyond a garbled, discordant chaos of sound. It rushed like a terrible wind that rose and fell, drowning out his speeding heartbeat. Could it be a storm?

If so, it was pounding.

Three steps, he ceded, fighting each. Loose stones caught under his bare feet, bruising them and threatened to contort his ankles.

Roaring.

Five steps.

Screeching.

Which step would be his last?

Ten steps.

The noises reverberated in his ears until they rang. He yearned to shield himself from those sickening sounds. Even through the heavy fabric of the blindfold, blood-red light up ahead permeated the cloth.

Fifteen steps.

The air felt less stuffy now. Red light completely saturated the dense fabric. A red moon? Is this what Time had fought? How? And the smell! The acrid, bitter scent of old blood, monster sweat, and corrosive magic made him queasy.

The noise crescendoed as they stepped outside. Night air blew free and chill over his skin. They stood at a large doorway of some kind, judging by the change in air and sound, and somehow the red glow came from outside.

Drums and horns joined the exultant roaring. Squawks and shrieks echoed from above and below. Hyrule’s ears rang, his head throbbed, and his hands shook from exhaustion and adrenaline.

“Now the show begins.” The deep voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Someone untied the blindfold and pulled it away. Hyrule blinked in the blood-red moonlight. He stood amid robed figures at the opening of what must be a temple or dungeon at the end of a breathtaking canyon. They stood dizzyingly high, looking down at a horrible sight below, yet even this high perch reached less than halfway up the canyon’s walls. The walls looked orange in the red moon’s glow. Even Wild, the strongest climber among them, probably could not scale these cliffs without a stamina potion or two.

He gawked at the uncountable hosts of monsters packed together within the canyon walls: more than all the humans he’d seen in his entire life. Three times as many, easily. They writhed and squirmed like cursed insects. Moblins, dwarfed by other creatures here, stood on pillars or low outcroppings on the cliff. Lizalfos weaved between the feet of dragons and gleeoks and giant skultulas. These were creatures he’d heard of around the campfire, with hushed tones and somber eyes. Giant ghoma and blobs and wall masters crawled on the high cliffs. Multi-armed, metallic creatures animated by glowing purple goo swooped and bounced. Malice, Wild had called the substance. Every inch of the canyon was riddled with glowing eyes, sharp teeth, and claws.

Someone steadied Hyrule as he struggled to back away from the din. It really was too late. He’d thoroughly failed, days ago in the woods. He didn’t restore his magic fast enough, didn’t summon what remained fast enough either, and now it would kill all of them.

They all came to watch him die. He would never see Dawn or Aurora or Impa again, or take their soft hands in his. He’s already left them for so long! He resisted the urge to fall to his knees.

“You’re pretty brave,” Legend had said when they first swapped tales of their adventures.

“We’re Heroes of Courage after all, aren’t we?” He remembered Wild’s arm over Sky’s shoulder, the knight laughing along as the Champion defended his bear-taming to Wars by the campfire, only weeks ago. Hyrule had joined Wind in cheering their agreement.

“You’ve got guts, young man,” Time once said.

Do I? Is it brave to die like this? To watch the god of death revive and tear apart every era with the Shadow’s help? To know that I’m to blame?

He felt anything but brave.

But it didn’t matter if he was brave, or not. He had to stop this.

His own cursed blood began to saturate the rope as he wrestled it.

#linked universe #lu hyrule #febuwhump #febuwhumpday5 #tw kidnapping #tw injury #bound #blindfold

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otaku-dragon-lover · 6 months

Text

Of Remnant and Earth Part One, Chapter 1

JLxRWBY Rewrite: The Justice League wakes up in a fractured world, one filled with monsters they've never seen before. Trapped in a place they don't understand, with bodies and powers they're unfamiliar with, and no idea how or why they've been sent here; the League has to put their trust in two teams, both of which have their own problems following the "Fall of Beacon".

Or: This movie has me by the throat and won't let go. Apologies if you saw this earlier, Tumblr mobile's UI fucked me so I accidentally posted this early.

Clark Kent - better known by the world as Superman - groaned as his awareness slowly returned. His hearing was fuzzy, garbled and muddy sounds clearing as he laid there. Though… as his senses returned, he started noticing something… weird.

His body felt… smaller? Compressed? That… didn't make any sense, last he remembered they were fighting… Amazo? He thinks it was him, anyway. So maybe he did something…?

His thoughts were interrupted as his hearing cleared, and he was bombarded by noises. For a second, it was hard to even think as a particularly loud shriek (which was followed by several gunshots) pierced his ears. A pair of feminine voices taunted… whatever they were fighting, grunted as they were (assumedly) attacked.

Well, he couldn't just lay here while people needed help, now could he?

Blue eyes snapped open with a sharp groan, being greeted by a blue sky with sparse clouds. He could see an umbrella of green leaves above him; but… he didn't remember passing out near any trees, so why was he…?

A pair of dark figures flew over him, shrill bird-like screeches following them.

Okay, he didn't remember seeing those.

It was only as he started sitting up that he realized something was… wrong with his voice.

'Why do I sound like a kid?' He couldn't help thinking, looking down at his (decently smaller) hands with growing unease.

"Better question," He spoke aloud, wincing at the sound, "where am I?"

He saw more dark figures bolting through the trees in front of him, which only served to put him more on edge.

His gaze briefly flicked to the rest of his body, and did a double take upon seeing his clothes.

"…What am I wearing?"He gaped, because this? This was not his costume.

The colors were similar (for the most part), but otherwise it was completely different. On his feet were a pair of red boots, with yellow zippers running down the side. Along with this, were a pair of dark blue pants; he was wearing a similarly colored short jacket (though he swore he felt something dragging behind him) that was red on the inside. Underneath that was a black T-shirt, with a large gold version of his logo embroidered on it.

He was jolted out of his inspection by a girl's voice calling out, "Ruby, you got it?"

Two girls (teenagers, if Clark had to guess) rushed past him, though more worrying was what followed them.

Ten… griffons?! They were black as night with white bone-like spines on their necks, wings, and tails. Their heads were covered in white… maybe masks? One of the creatures turned, and Clark could see two yellow and red eyes on either side of their heads.

A red figure zipped and spun around the chimeric birds, bringing a massive scythe along with her. The girl leapt into the air, rushing down like a saw of crimson. She slammed the blade of her weapon into one of the griffons' heads, the creature shrieking in pain before it… dissolved?

The red-clad girl skidded as she landed, ducking as a second griffon lunged at her. Another gunshot rang out as the girl slashed the creature's legs… hold on; was - was the scythe a gun?!

The girl sliced the griffon's head off, stabbing it with her weapon and causing it to dissolve like the last one.

Now that she wasn't running around, Clark could actually see what she looked like. She had short black hair, fading into red at the tips. She was wearing a white high-neck blouse, on the arms were a pair of brown studded wristbands. She also wore a black skirt with a red rim, around her waist was a corset with a red strip holding it steady. Wrapped around her neck was a long red cloak, which looked torn and ragged at the end. On her legs were a pair of off-black thigh-high stockings, which led to a pair of red and black boots with multiple stars and buckles.

The scythe she wielded was huge, the girl only stood at half the weapon's height. It was red and black, with a silver edge along the blade. It looked completely mechanical - and if Clark was right, it was also a gun.

"Got it!" The girl - probably named Ruby - replied, turning with a confident gleam in her silver eyes, "How about you?"

The second girl was taller than the first; she had long blond (nearly yellow) hair that reached her midsection. She was wearing a tan jacket with an orange lining and gold edging, underneath which was an orange crop top; around her neck was a thick collar the same color as her jacket. She wore a pair of form-fitting black pants, leading to a pair of knee-high brown boots with gold caps.

She backflipped out of the way as a new griffon dove from the sky, the creature kicking up dirt as it landed with a harsh caw. As she righted herself Clark could distinctly hear the cocking of a shotgun, which was only slightly concerning.

The blond ended up pretty close to him, allowing him to see a pair of yellow and black gauntlets covering either of her hands. But… was one of her arms mechanical?

That was also concerning.

"All good!" She replied, a cocky thread in her tone.

'Focus. Answers now… worrying stuff later.' The superhero reminded himself, gaze staying on the creatures as two more landed.

"What… are those things?" He asked the blond, wincing as his voice shook.

'Not a great vote of confidence there,'

The girl looked at him with lilac eyes, staring as if he'd said something stupid, "Grimm!"

She then started punching bullets at the… "Grimm", the unmistakable sound of a shotgun accompanying each strike.

Were… Did she have shotgun gauntlets?!

The bullets pelted the creatures' necks and heads, little spurts of flame igniting on their feathered hides. But otherwise didn't seem to affect them much. One of the griffons screeched at the duo; Ruby running to the blond's side.

Both of them looked shocked by this, was… was that not supposed to happen or something?

The taller girl didn't say anything, instead running head-first into combat once more. Clark watched idly as she clocked one of the Grimm in the face, mildly impressed by her tenacity.

Suddenly, Ruby appeared in front of him in a flurry of rose petals, looking at him with concern.

How did she-?

"Are you okay? Anything hurt?" She asked him carefully, the irony of the situation being completely lost on her.

Clark was about to respond, until a bright beam of fire shot the ground near them, making both of them flinch.

"Shoot!"

"Since when did Grimm shoot lasers?" The blond asked uneasily, apparently having dodged the blast meant for her.

O…kay, so that wasn't normal?

Ruby spun what Clark thought was a red magazine with a rose symbol etched on it, before attaching it to her scythe with a (slightly concerning) chuckle, "Be right back new kid."

She zipped away with a swirl of petals… okay she had to have some kind of super speed, considering how fast she was moving.

The superhero watched dumbfounded, "I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore…"

The girl weaved around her blond companion, stopping suddenly before… turning her scythe into a gun (he knew it!) and shooting at the Grimm. Flames erupted as the bullet slammed into the griffon's head, the thing screeched in pain and recoiled, but then something… weird happened. The creature's eyes suddenly changed to a bright red - the fire almost being absorbed into it's mouth, before it released a jet of flames at Ruby.

The blond grabbed her swiftly, picking her up as the blast wheeled past.

"Welp… that didn't work." She commented, setting Ruby down gently, "What's the plan now?"

"I'll take care of it," Clark promised, standing uneasily as he adjusted to the height difference, "but some help's always appreciated."

He ignored the confused stares of the girls; it was fine, he could explain after these guys were delt with. Now was the time to do what he did best:

Save people, and fight bad guys.

One of the griffons hissed, leaping into the air with a loud caw. Clark smirked a bit, jumping up to meet the chimeric bird while pulling his fist back. The Grimm screeched, whirling around to smack the Kryptonian with it's spike-covered tail. The two clashed mid-air, the superhero's strength more than enough to send the thing flying.

At least, that's what Clark thought would happen.

What actually happened (much to his shock), was that he was slammed back onto the ground. The hero landed with a wheeze, so surprised that he didn't immediately get back up. He did notice - though only for a split second - something weird: a blue aura briefly flashed across his body, spreading out from where he'd been hit.

'Well,' Clark filed that information away for later, 'that… wasn't the plan.'

After a brief stretch of - incredibly awkward- silence, Ruby hesitantly asked, "Uh… are you okay?"

The hero groaned as he got up, "I'm… I'm usually stronger than this… why…?"

"They're heading for Mistral!" The blond yelled, firing on the Grimm as they ran in the opposite direction.

"Mistral?" He couldn't help asking, dusting himself off slightly.

"It's a huge city built in the mountains." Ruby responded, gripping her scythe a little tighter.

Huh… now that she mentioned it, Clark could see a large mountain range in the distance. That was probably what she was talking about.

"Uh…" He blinked as he noticed Ruby talking to him, she seemed a bit… nervous? "What's your Semblance?"

His… his what?

The red head must've noticed his confusion, because she quickly added, "You know, like, your special power?"

Special pow- oooh, she probably means his super powers!

He hopes.

"I know what it is where I'm from. Here?" He explained, a mischievous smirk appearing, "Only one way to find out."

He felt a weird… tingle almost, buzzing just beneath his skin like a hyperactive bee. It wasn't uncomfortable, far from it. It felt… weirdly reassuring?

The matching grins he received was all the response he needed.

The three of them charged, the blond using the kickback of her gauntlets to launch herself. Ruby zipped by before clashing with one of the Grimm, Clark sliding under the griffon as a loud gunshot rang out.

The hero noticed the blond launching herself into the air, before she crashed down onto the skull of a griffon fist-first. She fired a couple of shots into it for good measure, the thing melting into a pool of black… goo?

"Huh?" The girl sounded very confused, "That - what?!"

Clark lunged at one of the Grimm, focusing his punches on it's head (he figured it was some kind of weak point). The thing recoiled, shrieking as he pursued, slamming his fists onto it's head and forcing it to dissolve.

…Wait that was his super strength! How did he-?!

A screech forced him to duck as another Grimm attacked. A (somewhat) familiar warmth suddenly built up in his eyes, making the hero grin. In a flash, twin pairs of red beams sliced the griffon's wings off, the severed limbs dissipating as a pain-filled shriek erupted from the creature.

His eye beams fizzled out before he could switch to the head, allowing the Grimm to smack him away with it's tail. He rolled, bouncing off the ground before slamming into a tree.

Clark groaned, the griffon circling him as he got up. He tried to fry the thing with his heat vision, but for some reason it… wasn't working??

He flinched back as the creature lunged, trying to protect himself. Suddenly, a red blur flew through the thing's form. The Grimm was cut in half, Ruby landing a couple feet away before running up and stabbing the thing's head.

She looked at him in concern, which prompted him to explain helplessly, "Something's messing with my powers!"

The red reaper nodded, a reassuring smile spreading as she spun her scythe, "Don't worry! I got you!"

She was… oddly easy to read, Clark was realizing.

She fired a few shots at the remaining chimeric birds, before looking at him again, "By the way, I'm Ruby. And that's my sister- Yang!"

The blond in question rushed by, holding onto the neck of a Grimm as it ran. Clark was more than a little impressed, especially when he noticed she was punching the thing on the head even while it carried her.

Eventually the Grimm collapsed, Yang taking the opportunity to wave at them with a laugh.

But… something was wrong, why hadn't it dissolved yet if it was-?

Clark's eyes widened as one of the griffon's eyes glowed yellow, "Watch out-!"

Yang noticed it too late, a small burst of electricity blasting her arm and sending her flying.

The duo wasted no time running over, Ruby using her Semblance-power… thing to destroy the offending monster. But… it melted just like the last one.

"Uh…" The red head sounded uneasy, "why does it look like that?"

"You alright?" He asked worriedly, crouching next to the blond.

Yang grunted, gritting her teeth as she bit out, "I'm fine."

The sparks and smoke leaking from her robot arm, however, seemed to disagree. She was stubborn though, waving Clark off a few times before he finally relented. He moved, standing next to Ruby as more Grimm closed in.

"Got any special tricks to beating monsters on your world?" He questioned, these things probably had other weaknesses… right?

The red head raised an eyebrow at him, "'Your world'?"

Oh, crap, right he hadn't explained that yet… Oops?

Loud screeches stopped any response, the last of the griffons charging at them with murderous intent.

Clark bit back a curse as Ruby zipped towards them, firing at two of them before clashing with the third. The two Grimm hissed, their eyes flashing red as the third creature shoved the red reaper back.

"Augh…! Ruby!" Yang shouted in fear, looking about as hopeless as Clark felt about right now.

Darn it…! If his powers had just worked, they wouldn't be in this situation! But he couldn't just stand here, someone was in danger, and he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try to save them.

The buzzing returned, heat building up behind his eyes as he bolted towards the Grimm. He skidded to a stop, power building as he yelled to Ruby.

"Duck!"

The red head vanished in a flurry of petals, Clark firing on the griffons the instant she was gone. The bright red beams sliced through the creatures, loud shrieks and screams erupting as the things melted or dissolved.

Silence dominated the area afterwards, only broken up by the sounds of them all panting.

Clark looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them as he went over what happened. That… That shouldn't have been that hard, his strength alone would've been enough to kill those things. So what happened? Why were his powers acting so… so weirdly? This had to be Amazo's doing, it was the only thing that made sense!

Ugh, it's times like these he really wished Bruce was here.

"Uh," Ruby's voice broke him from his thoughts, "thanks for that!"

The hero huffed slightly, shaking his head as he replied, "That was nothing, I should be able to do more with my… what'd you call it? 'Semblance'?"

The two approached as he spoke, Yang fiddling with her prosthetic arm.

Maybe it had something to do with the sun? The chances of Amazo sending him off world weren't slim, but they also weren't high. So… maybe Amazo messed with the sun somehow?

He turned his gaze upwards, looking at the sun as best he could while he felt it's rays. Everything was… normal enough?

The sun looked like Earth's, but it felt… different somehow.

"Earth is…" Ruby spoke up suddenly, sounding a bit confused, "your world. Because you're from a different world… because that's a thing."

Oh, huh. He must've said that bit out loud, whoops.

Yang clenched her metallic hand - testing to see if it was broken, Clark guessed - before placing it on her hip, "Well, that would explain… a few things."

He saw her looking him up and down, and… yeah he got what she was hinting at. He'd be a little offended if these were actually clothes he'd wear, right now he just looked like some weird cosplayer.

"Um…" The hero didn't know how to respond to that, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

Yang thankfully spared him from a reply, "What's your name, kid?"

…Okay he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, just… geeze when was the last time he'd been called a kid like this? By someone younger than him, no less!

"Well, just call me…" He puffed his chest out a bit, "Superman."

The siblings stared at him for a few seconds, until… "…Yeah, no."

He deflated at this, giving Yang a disappointed look. That reaction did confirm one thing, though: he probably wasn't on Earth anymore. At least, not one where he existed.

"Do you have a, uh…" Ruby gestured vaguely, "regular name?"

"Uh," …Bruce was gonna kill him for this, "yeah. Yeah, just - just call me Clark."

He shook his head, awkwardly clearing his throat, "Where am I?"

"This…" Ruby motioned to the surrounding area, "is Remnant."

"Remnant"? Well that wasn't ominous at all.

Yang crossed her arms, tilting her head as she asked, "Sooo, how did you get here, Clark?"

He winced and ran his fingers through his hair, shrugging as he sighed, "I'm… not entirely sure. The last thing I remember, I was fighting Amazo with my friends-"

"'Amazo'?" Ruby's face scrunched up as she said the villain's name, "Who's that?"

"An android that can mimic the powers of others," Clark explained, "he's a mindless machine controlled by his creator: Arthur Ivo."

Yang raised an eyebrow, "Who makes a robot and names it 'Amazo'?"

"Don't write him off just because of his name, it took my entire team to even put a dent in him." He replied with a sigh.

"Still, doesn't change the fact that he has a dumb name-"

"Um," Ruby suddenly spoke up, "do you think that… Amazo guy has anything to do with why you're here? And with those weird melting Grimm?"

Clark's brows furrowed in thought, "…Maybe? I know for a fact he can make portals, so him sending me here isn't that far-fetched? But I have no idea about those Grimm… things, the don't exist on Earth."

"Something's definitely wrong." He continued, looking between the sisters, "You said Grimm don't shoot lasers, right?"

He got a nod from Yang as she replied, "They don't, yeah. But, they also don't eat all the Dust we shoot at them like candy."

"I have to get to the bottom of this," The hero resolved, "if Amazo's responsible for the weird Grimm, then this might all be my fault."

"…I think you mean we've gotta get to the bottom of this;" Ruby corrected with a smile, "you don't know your way around here, right? It probably wouldn't be a good idea to, y'know, run around here without a guide."

"Or backup," Yang added, "you said your Semblance wasn't working, remember?"

They… weren't wrong, he'd effectively be running around blind. That being said…

"I can't ask you two to do that," He shook his head, trying to dissuade them, "this could end up being really, really dangerous."

The blond brawler snorted, rolling her eyes at him, "Psh please, it can't be any worse than what we've delt with."

Clark was about to respond when he felt a tug on his sleeve, looking down he found that it was Ruby.

The red reaper stared at him with what could only be described as puppy-dog eyes, face almost pleading as she spoke, "Please let us help? Pleeeeeeasse?"

Oh no. Oh no no no. C'mon Clark! Don't be pursuaded by the eyes! Don't be pursuaded-!

…Darn it-!

"Alright, alright! You can help me!" He relented, holding his hands up in surrender as the siblings cheered.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!" Ruby beamed, happiness radiating off of her as she hugged him, "I promise you won't regret this Clark!"

He huffed in response, "You're welcome. Maybe we'll find my friends while we're at it."

"You think they're here too?" Yang asked, tilting her head in confusion.

Clark thought about it for a second, "Yeah. Knowing Ivo, he'd want any and every threat gone."

The blond nodded before looking at her sister, "I think we should head to Mistral for now, the others are gonna want to hear about this."

Ruby grinned brightly, "And! Ozpin might know what's up with those Grimm!"

"Ozpin?" Clark cut in, looking between the duo for answers.

"He's our headmaster - or, he used to be." The red reaper replied with a shrug, "If there's one person who'd know what's going on, it'd be him."

The hero nodded, falling behind the siblings as they began their trek to the mountain city.

#my writing #otaku writes #writing #rwby #justice league #justice league x rwby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #superman #clark kent #the brainrot is real #crossovers really got by the throat huh #clark kent is a dork #the timeline means nothing to me

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jhsgf82 · 2 years

Text

Coming Soon-There’s No Crying in Baseball!

Super cool edit by @alwayseverlark Thank you! 😊

Anybody in the mood for a little PRye (Prim/Rye, I don't know what their fan name is, if they have one)? This popped into my head, so I ran with it.

*** Oh, Peeta, your brother! He made one last play for Prim before we left…

Mr. Mellark was too old to be drafted, being over 45 as he was, though he probably would have been exempt anyway due to being in an important industry, baking. And his eldest, Wheaton, was exempt, due to providing him assistance with the bakery and the subsequent land partially owned by the Mellark and Everdeen families. When Katniss and Peeta married, it was decided that the land would be conjoined, and with Mr. Everdeen gone, there needed to be men to work the land, even though it was usually Katniss and Prim doing the work anyway.

But Rye, it was possible he could still be drafted. Mr. Mellark didn’t need two able-bodied men at home assisting him with baking. His wife, and any number of women could help with that; however, if they could make the case for the Everdeen farm, perhaps he would remain out of it. As for Peeta, he had volunteered.

Well, Peeta, Rye strode right up to Prim, grabbed her by the waist and kissed her hard on the lips. He even dipped her back like in the movies.

“You-you pig!” screeched Prim, wrenching away and shoving him off her once he’d brought her back up. “How dare you!”

Rye just chuckled and grinned like an idiot. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, giving her braid a little tug.

Prim gaped. “But I don’t want you to!” she protested.

Rye either didn’t process this or chose to ignore it because then he said, “I’ll write to you everyday!”

“It’s not like she’s going off to war,” I reasoned, partly annoyed, partly amused.

“She might as well be!” Rye lamented like the big baby he is.

Defeated, Prim sighed and turned away.

“We better get going,” I told her. Prim nodded.

“I’ll go with you,” said Rye. “I’ll take you to the train station.”

I was about to say no, but we were running very late, and your brother had the truck. So, much to Prim’s chagrin, I agreed. I made Prim sit up front while I sat in back in the bed of the truck.

At the station, we said our goodbyes to your brother.

“Goodbye, Rye,” I said, preparing to haul hiney.

“Goodbye, Katniss,” he replied. “Bye, Prim.” He practically whimpered my sister’s name, and I shook my head, the smallest of smirks playing on my lips. He really was hopeless.

As we were speed-walking off toward the platform, I commented, because I couldn’t resist teasing her once in a while. “Well, isn’t that sweet,” I said. “You have someone waiting for you at home when you return.”

Prim made a garbled noise in her throat and rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell him where to write me.”

“I won’t,” I told her with a little laugh. “But I can’t guarantee Mother won’t.”

“Oh!” I thought Prim was reacting to the idea of Mother sharing our contact information with Rye, but it was the train she’d seen. It was pulling out a few minutes ahead of schedule.

And so, we ran. We ran as fast as our legs could carry us.

After we’d caught up to it and hopped on, with a literal helping hand, we settled into our seats.

Prim was seated next to the window; I looked out past her head and noticed Rye standing there.

“There’s Rye,” I said, pointing out the window.

Prim scowled and refused to look, but when I turned away, I saw out of the corner of my eye that she looked out the window. Rye was still standing there. He waved.

Prim threw up her hand in a stiff, static wave‒I supposed just to be polite‒and then she turned her head and stared out straight at the front of the train, ignoring the man passing by outside the window.

I’d always assumed Rye’s affections for Prim were totally one-sided, but then I noticed Prim touching her lips. It’s not that I can blame her; I’m sure the Mellark men know how to kiss. I only have experience kissing one of them, but he sure can... Anyway, after she touched her lips, Prim shot one last look back at Rye as the train rushed past the station.

#JHsgf82 writes #Based on A League of their Own #There's No Crying in Baseball #Everlark #Prye #Prim/Rye

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jrwiyuri · 2 years

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Some Thaumcraft info before the Karl angst. In Thaumcraft, there's forbidden knowledge you can get into and an addon called Forbidden Magic. When you dive into the forbidden knowledge and magic, there's an effect called Warp that literally causes in game paranoia. From hallucinating mobs to getting harmless paranoia inducing messages.

Into the Karl angst, Karl dove a bit too deep into the forbidden knowledge, which resulted in a heavy warp effect that causes him to be insanely paranoid. He's scared to sleep and leave his room. His paranoia and lack of sleep leads to him slowly losing his human form.

The more he loses his human form, the more scared he is. He'll randomly screech in pain and fear and his words are nearly incomprehensible. His words are garbly but sound kinda like ender noises.

Sapnap, Tina, and George try to help Karl in anyway they can but physically helping is nearly impossible. George prays to DXD to try to get him to help. Tina and Sapnap meanwhile make food for Karl to make sure he's fed and Sapnap leaves notes, trying to assure that Karl's safe.

Oh that’s so sad wtf… :(

#Snake Answers #Friend Tag!#||#damn wtf…#that sounds awesome tho (the game mechanic not the actual angst. the angst is sad 💔)

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obeymeluv · 2 years

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How would the obey me characters be with somebody who's extremely good at cosplaying and mimicking voices like they would look sound and act exactly like the character

I personally think cosplaying is pretty neat. I don't do it because it's usually too much money to make or buy the costumes and I'm not really around any cosplay events, but it's neat. I'd love to be able to do other voices, too. I don't really sound like anyone, haha.

I'm doing just the bros since it wasn't really specified who the Obey Me! characters were

I'm also assuming that you don't just mean anime characters when you say they're good at cosplaying. I'm assuming movies/TV or just the general ability to look like others is on the table

Lucifer:

Unless you can find someone he has a crush on that NOT EVEN HIS BROS KNOW ABOUT, you will not have much power over this brother

Truthfully, you've probably prank called him from different numbers using different voices just to hear him lose his shit in another room (Belphie and Satan admiration +5. Might be able to squeeze a favor out of them)

Say he does like someone and you find out, right? If you dress up like them and he doesn't expect it, you'll get to see him blush. Like, hard core. Like, up the neck and to the ears.

If you find out he likes a certain voice and mimic it at unexpected times (i.e: defending Mammon or trying to stop a lecture), it will work. It'll take him a couple seconds to register the voice but he's going to trip over his words and stutter and just fluff up and excuse you all with a garbled demon screech. The bros later tell you that that's an embarrassed noise.

Overall: 3/10. Won't really care unless you discover he's simping for someone and exploit it

Mammon:

This is another one who can't care too much unless it's someone relevant/popular

Or someone he had a crush on. Unlike Lucifer, Mammon has had his fair share of crushes and the bros probably never found out about all of them. This is a dork who's heart still goes pitter-patter over his crush or the first cute voice no matter how long it's been since he's heard it

Is more interested in you being able to mimic the clothing or how someone could look. You guys could make lookbooks for different companies or do tie-in collabs with movies and TV! You could bring trends back! (DO IT SO HE CAN RUB HIS HOARDING IN HIS BROS FACE AND MAKE SOMETHING RELEVANT AGAIN!)

This looking like other people talent is a 50/50 danger though, because Mammon has probably had his fair share of heartbreak, users, etc. and you don't want to accidentally remind him of bad times

Truthfully, you don't need to look or sound like anyone else. He wants to love you as he first saw you, with your real voice whispering all the sweet nothings his heart craves.

Overall: 7/10. Show him it's relevant or how it can be more than 'just like Levi's weird dress up' and he'll be more excited about it.

One he realizes you could make bank recording stuff for people (AKA: overheard Levi bugging you and totally stole you away to save your life before his little bro trapped you forever, so you owe him) he wants you to do EVERYTHING so you can mint it. Babies the hell out of you but you'll have to knock the dollar signs out of his eyes eventually or he'll burn you out real quick.

Levi:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER?!

When he finds out you can do this he just...doesn't make words. It's just excited hyperventilating noises and you might get The Noise.

He just has so many requests and he wants to know how high your pitch can go?! Levi's trying to ask you questions, just watch you, and madly scrambling around his room for a book of lines he TOTALLY WANTS VOICE ACTORS TO SAY IF HE EVER MEETS THEM!

Begs you to record voicemails or special lines for him. Please do. He'll just absolutely explode with childish joy. It won't be anything gross, he promises!

But if you're totally down with the, um...questionable stuff? BOY IS DEAD! Death by boner? Death by boner. Poor boy is hypoxic from low blood flow. Died a noble otaku overload death.

Doesn't matter if you do one character or one hundred, the second you show him that you cosplay or could do a voice, you're officially his best friend ever and he'll subconsciously (or not) monopolize your time. The bros just might have to fight him for you.

His little heart is just so excited?! Someone who understands the outfits and the voices and--?!! happy Levi sounds all around

Totally brags to his online friends and might upload a few clips with your permission

Will probably ask you to enter in look-a-like or sound-a-like competitions from time to time so he can get some merch because you're a sure winner and ANYONE WHO DOESN'T AGREE IS OBVIOUSLY UNCULTURED AND DEAF!!

Levi's just as big a fan of you as he is of the real stuff

Overall: 1,000,000/10! THE BEST!

Satan:

Another one that won't quite see the value in it.

Might borrow you from time to time if he gets invited to go to a theme party/event just to have the satisfaction of someone so perfectly fitting the theme (with your consent, of course). And sometimes he just doesn't want to go by himself. He wants company every now and then.

Doesn't really find the charm in it until he realizes you could bring book characters to life. If he scavenges up enough detail to give an idea of a person, he'd love to see you bring them to life

Kitty boy reads a lot of romance so if you want a good reaction from him, read a few of his faves and dress up like them to see if he realizes who it is or what book it's from

When you do this and he realizes, he gets pink in the cheeks and it goes down his neck

He'll immediately pull you into the privacy of his room and just delicately touch the little accents--necklace, earrings, etc--with a hand that shakes a little

Totally spellbound, he'll ask you breathlessly to just read some of their lines. Just read from the book and he's putty in your hands.

Has totally wanked it to book characters but he doesn't start having any dirty fantasies unless you go out of your way to read absolute smut. Like, raw unapologetic smut that 99% of people keep a straight face reading in public because we grew up like that.

Tries to convince you that you should record books as a side hustle. Could totally help you do that. He knows people.

Overall: 7/10. You have to hit him where it counts for him to come around to it.

Asmo:

I don't think he's big into reading or watching TV in the same way Levi is.

For Asmo to care you'd probably have to mimic popular shows and stuff

He'd find more joy in getting you to do unofficial scripts and just having you say things he wished he heard on the show. Like, he wants the really shy character to just have a meltdown and swear up a storm like the one time he saw Lucifer lose his shit.

As far as clothing goes, Asmo isn't shy to lift a look from a model or a lookbook. Your ability to bring clothes together that look close enough to something expensive or give off the same vibe are WAAAAYYY more interesting

He'd 100% take you out to shop for faux outfits or just brainstorm with you

If you guys end up making something fire it goes on Devilgram AFTER you wear it to school and make everyone jealous for the day

In general he just thinks it's cute to watch you dress up and do voices. He just can't help but see the 'you' in it and he loves you anyways.

Overall: 5/10. Could love it or leave it. Just likes seeing you happy.

Belphie:

Boy does not care. Not to be rude, but boy does not care.

He doesn't watch a lot of TV or anime and half of the time he's tuning people out so there's not a lot of power over this bro

When it occurs to him that he could have you dress up as a female Lucifer and just be outlandish, that shit's hilarious. He and Satan lowkey want to record a lot of stuff and see if they can't make a potion to have him temporarily turn into a girl so they can release it, but realistically that probably wouldn't work

And Lucifer would most assuredly get he closest to killing them he's ever been

He can dream, though. He can dream.

Want to reduce him to gasping-for-breath, sides-ache tears? Dress up as female Lucifer and do your absolute worst faking a lecture. You have to do obnoxious hip swings and talk about Diavolo for half of it though

Other than that, he might tease you for a lullaby in a couple of different voices. It won't matter how many he hears because your real voice is the best.

Overall: 4/10. Doesn't really care until you do the Lucifer bits.

Beel:

Another bro that's not gonna care. But not to be mean, just because those aren't his interests.

At most you'll get a 'wow, you guys look similar' as an idle thought while he's eating and looking at a clip of what you've mimicked.

If you're practicing sounding like someone he'll definitely be able to give commentary like if you hit the right pitch or how he thinks it's different (if it is)

Beel doesn't think much of it but idly wonders if any of the restaurants in the Devildom would give you guys free food if you could sing one of their commercials or something

Some of them would probably pay you (maybe even in coupons?) to be a cute mascot. He'll sit and keep an eye on you during the shift. Totally up to you if you want to try, though.

The only way you're going to send him into panic or get him super excited is if you're able to mimic an athlete or someone he looks up to. Or maybe if you get like a really sexy apron and make some food puns (especially 'stuffing' puns).

Overall: 5/10. Will easily go up to at least an 8/10 if you just want someone to support you during cosplay or voice acting.

#Obey me!#Obey me! x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmo x reader #Asmodeus x reader #Belphie x reader #Belphegor x reader #Beel x Reader #Beelzebub x reader

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 29.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Pre-Wedding Jitters, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Fingering, Praise, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Pregnancy Kink, Wife Kink, Glazed Donut!OC

A/N: Today’s chapter is late because I’ve been busy playing New Pokemon Snap... sry. Shout out to @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna because I’d be lost without them.

There are undoubtedly many events in life that make a person nervous -- your first day of high school and college, your first kiss, your first sexual experience, and for some even your first phone call you give to your doctor when you're no longer under your parents protection. But no one -- not a single person, told you how nervous your wedding day is.

Maybe it's the amount of people that are attending. Two hundred is no small number.

Or maybe it's the fact that with your belly sticking out so far you can barely see your feet makes you feel like you'll be judged.

Whatever it is, the feeling fucking sucks.

You've seen so many movies where the woman who is getting married is all laughs and smiles, giving cheers to anyone and everyone because it's her wedding day. But now, you can officially say it's bullshit.

The best part is, it isn't even today, it's tomorrow and you still are frightened to the bone at the thought.

"-And I mean, yeah. Fine. We chose the taupe napkins but who the fuck is Aubrey to say anything, y'know? Like she knows her colors… Evil witch. I swear I don't know how she passed kindergarten!"

Leena's rant drifts through your ears like a soft breeze. You haven't been paying attention for a while, if you're being honest.

"Y/N? Are you listening to me?!" Leena gawks, grabbing her glass of champagne from Taehyung's hand.

Again, you're caught up in your own mind. You play every scenario of how tomorrow will be and they all seem to be terrible ideas.

What if you trip walking down the aisle?

What if your heel snaps on the way up?

What if your water breaks in front of two hundred people?

What if-

A small square of balsamic bruschetta appears in front of your face and your eyes narrow at the piece of bread.

You feel your soon-to-be husband's fingers pushing back some stray hairs behind your ear. "Food for thought?" he quips happily.

He has not had a frown on his face in what seems like forever. You adore it, you really do. But how can he not be nervous? Your heart is practically thrumming out of your chest.

"Open," he whispers.

Reluctantly, you open your mouth for the appetizer. When he leans in, you look back down at your lap.

"I can see your heart racing through the artery in your neck," he murmurs against your ear.

His hand squeezes your knee under the table reassuringly as he pulls away.

Yoongi wants to pry, he wants to ask you what's got you so in your own head but there are a few too many people here for that.

"Noona, you're an amazing cook." Jeongguk whines, grabbing another piece of steak off the platter.

"You're actually disgusting." Jimin breathes, wrinkling his nose at the youngest's third steak.

"I need my meat, that's how I win in the ring. Gets me all big and strong." Guk beams, cutting into the large t-bone.

"That's what she said!" Hoseok and Taehyung chirp at the same time.

You watch as they high five each other with child-like smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Are you tired? Do you want to call it a night?" your fiance inquires softly, turning his whole body towards you so the rest of the room can't hear him.

You would never want to take away from the festivities. It's just that your stupid anxiety is overwhelming. Looking over at your handsome partner, your fingers intertwine with his. He's quick to kiss the back of your hand, searching your eyes for some sort of hint as to why you're so down.

"No. I'm fine. I'm sorry." you reply, giving him a small smile.

His eyes narrow at your smile and he takes a sharp breath through his teeth in confusion.

"Al...right, if you say so." he says unsurely, running your intertwined hands over your belly.

"Y/N!" Leena whines from across the table and this time you give her your full attention.

You need to try and push this anxiousness elsewhere even for a little while. You will not be a horrible host.

"Yes Beena," you inquire, leaning your chin on your hand.

"Did you hear me? Did you hear what Kim Aubrey said about my wedding planning skills?!" she screeches.

You can only snort as all eyes around the table land on you. "I don't know why you indulge her. Isn't she the one that shit her pants in chemistry when she was fifteen?"

Yoongi laughs loudly, throwing his head back and placing his hand on his chest.

"Actually yeah, she sat two rows behind me!" Namjoon chimes in with wide eyes. His nose wrinkles at the sudden memory and you don't blame him as he pushes his plate away in a sudden state of queasiness.

"So I don't suck at wedding planning?" your best friend pouts across the long table to you.

"Absolutely not." you insist, winking at her.

"This wedding is going to be the biggest event of the entire year. Maybe even the biggest event of the next ten years." Anna, Jimin's wife cheers.

Oh.

Good.

Love that.

"Well, I think we just want people to have a good time. We aren't worried about what impact it will have." Yoongi says quickly, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand to calm you down.

He's not dumb. He's figured it out by now, but he'll still want to hear it from your lips later on.

"Yeah right. 'Min Yoongi and his artistically talented fiance WOW people with their show stopping matrimony' is gonna be on the cover of Dispatch in two days." Hoseok murmurs.

"Oh yeah? And you're gonna be the one giving them the hot scoop, then?" Namjoon jeers, pointing his index finger over the lip of his glass of brandy at the handsome man.

Hobi sneers in his direction and Yoongi can only respond with a chuckle.

"My fiance is pretty show stopping." the CEO surmises, leaning back in his chair.

"Please. I'm eating. Christ." Leena groans through a mouthful of pasta.

It is nice to have so many close friends around tonight though. You hope it can distract you long enough for the nervousness brewing and bubbling inside of you to subside.

When conversations begin to break up and become between smaller groups of people, you can feel his eyes on you like a heat source.

"Little dove?" Yoongi coos softly, rubbing your distended side.

You hum to him, turning to give him your full attention.

"Tomorrow is going to be beautiful and perfect." he promises, tilting your chin up with his index finger.

"No, I know. I'm just-"

"Worried." he finishes for you and he's not surprised to see your reluctant nod of agreement.

"I know. I'm nervous too." he admits, kissing your cheek.

"You've already gotten married before," you scoff, allowing his arm to curl around your shoulders.

"Actually I was black out drunk and can't remember a single thing because I was venomously angry with the dumb bitch that ruined my life before you." he replies with a wide smile.

"Oh. Good." you reply, rolling your eyes at his playfulness.

"So this is my first real wedding too. And even though I'm nervous, I'm excited. Because then when the wedding is over and we get to our honeymoon-"

"Uh uh." you gasp, smushing your finger to his lips.

He pouts against your finger, kissing it softly. "What?" he garbles against your digit.

"We have company." you whisper fiercely.

"Didn't stop you a few days ago when you sucked my cock beneath the desk upstairs while I was on a video meeting." he deadpans, pulling your hand away from his face.

"Yoongi!" you gasp, glancing over the table who hasn't heard a single thing.

You'd like to keep it that way.

"I can't wait to fuck your little pregnant cunt as you're Mrs. Min Yoongi." he beams, kissing your temple.

You can feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and you can only blame the man beside you for that one.

When you smack his chest out of shame, the noise echoes throughout the room, earning attention from all of the guests.

"Abuse is not nice, Y/N. Do you want to file a lawsuit, Yoongi?" Yoona quips, sticking her tongue out at you.

The CEO chuckles, squeezing your shoulder with glee. "No, she couldn't handle my lawyers." he bubbles.

"Oh yeah, you know you aren't supposed to sleep with each other tonight, right?" Leena inquires, moving her fork between the both of you.

The cackle Yoongi gives is loud and absurd, much like your best friend's comment. "I can't do anything to her she doesn't have proof of." he banters, pointing at your large belly.

Leena scoffs, pointing down at her plate. "Again. Eating. Gross." she enunciates, pouring herself another glass of expensive champagne.

Jimin's laugh rings throughout the dining room and Yoongi knows that he's the only person who could truly understand him in that moment.

"Why do people do that dumb tradition anyway?" Jeongguk asks, finally finishing his food.

"It actually comes from arranged marriages. When people didn't know who they were marrying." Yoona informs him.

"Fuck that luck shit. That's the saying, isn't it? 'It's bad luck to see the bride' or something like that." Hoseok breathes.

"I think I'm lucky," Yoongi, Namjoon and Jimin reply all at once.

Your best friend takes the opportunity to sneer at her boyfriend and you can't help but giggle at his hopeless expression. "You know I love you, baby." Taehyung coos, sliding his arm over her shoulders.

"Mhm." she drolls, rolling her eyes when both of you look at one another.

"What's for dessert?" Jeongguk asks pleasantly, tying his long black hair up into a ponytail.

"Are you serious? You're not full?" Namjoon gawks at the boxer.

"I was saving room for dessert!" he beams, looking over at you expectantly.

Jeongguk is sweet, sweeter than most younger men you've ever met. He feels something akin to a little brother to you at this point and it's wonderful to see that even if you're rich you can still have manners.

"I made just a simple cobbler, since the wedding cake tomorrow is going to be super heavy and rich." you announce.

Yoongi shoves his chair back, holding out his hand to help you up like the gentleman he is.

He watches you carefully sprinkle powdered sugar atop the dessert with warm eyes.

You don't know how difficult it's going to be walking up that aisle tomorrow, but you do know that your ankles are going to be on fire. They already are.

He picks up the ceramic dish for you, nodding to the chair for you to sit back down and your heart warms for what feels like the billionth time today.

He's such a special person.

"Yoongi is really cool these days, huh?" Jimin jeers, elbowing your fiance when he steps between him and Jeongguk to place the dessert onto the table.

"I've always been cool," he counters, nudging the younger man back

"Well…" Jeongguk and Taehyung droll at the same time.

"Whatever," the CEO breathes, rolling his eyes.

Your giggle seems to light up the room as well as Yoongi's heart. Slamming down in his chair beside you, he can't help the glee that courses through him.

He can't wait for tomorrow.

Climbing into bed, you let the mattress mold to your body and it feels like heaven to be finally laying down, your body certainly thanks you for it.

Yoongi leans against the wall, watching as you sigh happily. "I can just come to bed y'know? I don't need to stay up and hang out." he offers, padding towards you.

"No, that wouldn't be fair. It's your bachelor party. You should be able to play poker and drink." you reply, cupping your stomach.

His eyes drift over you and you can see how soft his expression is in the dim lighting. "You got out of your bachelorette party," he adds, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I have a reason. I'm pregnant." you deadpan, lifting your head to look at him.

"With my baby," he coos, stretching up the bed to lay down beside you.

"Don't get comfy." you warn him, running your fingers over his clothed chest.

"I'm not, I'll just stay until you fall asleep." he promises, kissing your forehead.

His hand drifts over your stomach and the tiny kick he feels makes his heart beat faster. "Hey, kid. How you doin' in there?" he whispers, running his thumb over the spot his son just hit.

You hum gently, letting your eyes flutter closed.

"I'm so tired but I'm so nervous." you announce in the quiet room.

Your fiance looks away from your belly to look over at you. "It's okay to be nervous, but don't let it supersede your happiness for tomorrow either."

You nod gently, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just have so many scenarios going through my head."

"And none of them are nice, I'm sure." he replies, booping your nose with his index finger.

Scoffing in agreement, you bury your face into his sweet smelling neck.

"I can make you cum, it might make you sleepy," he offers.

"I can't return the favor though, I'm too tired. It'll be unfair," you whine.

When he clicks his teeth, you only hold him tighter to your body.

"I don't need you to 'return the favor' when you love someone as much as I love you, you'd do anything to see them comfortable." he replies, kissing the top of your head.

"They're waiting for you downstairs." you remind him.

"Let them wait. You come first," he breathes, running the tips of his fingers over your soft inner thighs.

You whine in disagreement but your body betrays you naturally. Your legs spread wider and your breath hitches, your lips softly suckle on the thin skin of his neck waiting patiently for what he will do next.

"Your skin is so soft," he whispers, tugging the seat of your panties to the side.

He pulls away from you just far enough to be able to see how well he pleases you and he's already aroused at the sight.

Your eyes are low with lust, bottom lip clamped between your teeth. Your nipples are stiff peaks, straining against the grey silk nightgown you adorn. He can see the grey fabric becoming darker with each passing second as you bead milk.

"God," he groans, parting your lower lips.

"Tomorrow when we fly to Japan, I'm gonna fuck you in every way you could possibly think of." he promises, running his middle finger through your arousal.

"H-How?" you inquire curiously, gasping when he taps the pad of his finger to your clit.

His lips part and his teeth clamp down on one of the cups of your nightgown before pulling down harshly.

You whimper at the chilly air that glides over your now exposed skin.

He lays soft, hot opened mouthed kisses to your nipple, watching your eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

"How am I going to fuck you?" he prods.

You nod fervently, capturing your index finger between your teeth.

"Well," he begins, drawing smooth, slow circles to your swelling clit, "I'll start on the red eye. I'll take you back to the bedroom and take off that pretty wedding dress you'll be wearing just for me."

"Daddy," you whimper, spreading your legs wider for more.

He hums in agreement, pulling off your underwear to free you completely before him.

"I'm gonna make sure the whole crew of my plane knows you're getting fucked by your husband. Gonna have you screaming my name while I fuck your tight little pussy with my thick cock." he avows, kissing over your shoulder.

His words send shivers up your spine and your toes curl with excitement.

"Fuck," you whimper, grinding your hips down onto his hand.

"Gonna hold your big belly in my hands while I fuck you from behind. Let your milk drip all over the sheets of the bed on the plane. You're gonna beg me to go harder, to fill your dirty pregnant cunt full of my cum. I'm gonna make you feel so good, you aren't even going to care that everyone can hear you calling me daddy."

Shoving two fingers inside of you, he skillfully taps the soft patch of nerves within you and your brain is already firing on all cylinders to cum for him. His thumb begins to press harder circles into your clit and when you cup your belly, his eyes roll back at the sight.

"Gonna get you to the secluded hotel and fuck you out on the balcony, in the bath tub, on the bed, anywhere I can get my hands on you. Because I need you wrapped around me. Always." he murmurs into your ear.

"Shit!" you cry out, letting your head loll back to the pillow.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises, unbuttoning his pants for relief.

The head of his cock peeks out from the lip of his briefs and you whimper at the pearl of precum that beads at the tip.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, kissing from your collarbone to your pert nipple.

When he suckles softly, your hips lift at the erotocism. He moans at the taste of your milk and his hand ghosts over his hard cock.

"Daddy," you cry out, starting to shake from the overwhelming pleasure.

Sitting up on his knees, he shoves his pants down further. He parts your legs wider and he doesn't seem to care that all of his friends are waiting patiently for him downstairs.

His cock ruts between your folds and you're ever so close to cumming with every swipe the head of his cock brushes against your clit.

"So warm," he murmurs, purchasing his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your moans begin to get louder and he knows you're so close to releasing your pleasure.

"That's it baby, you're so close." Yoongi notices, running his hands over your stomach.

"O-Oh my God!" you cry out, grabbing his hands over your belly.

"I know, little dove. Feels good, huh?" he coos.

You're so obscenely wet, that even without him being inside you he's finding himself close to his own end.

It's just you in general, you overstimulate him in ways he can barely understand.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum." you bleat, gripping his hands harder.

"Cum for me, little dove. I want to see your pretty face when you cum for me." he begs, rutting his hips harder against your core.

You do as told, cumming for him with white spotted eyes and loud sobs of pleasure.

"Good girl," he praises, pulling away from your weeping pussy.

He fists his cock in hand, dragging the swollen, leaking tip over your belly. "Such a pretty woman I have beneath me. Fuck," he curses, jerking his hand faster.

Even as tiredness begins to shroud you, you want him to orgasm too. "Daddy, cum all over my belly. Want to feel your warm cum."

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, his eyes snapping to yours.

When you palm your breasts, his eyes immediately falter to them. You pinch your nipples purposefully, earning droplets of milk that stream slowly over your digits.

"Oh fuck!" he gasps loudly, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Want your cum so badly," you whimper, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

"Yeah? You want me to cum all over your belly?" he prods, feeling his balls tightening.

You nod fervently, leaving your breasts to rub circles to your distended skin.

"Fuck!" he curses, squeezing his eyes shut as his orgasm courses through him. His cock throbs and stutters in his hand and you hum with satisfaction when you feel his warm cum land on your belly.

"God, you're too sexy for your own good." the father of your child jeers, sitting back on the heels of his feet.

You find yourself giving a tired giggle and your eyelids slowly begin to shield your eyes from view.

"Good girl." he whispers softly, hopping off the bed to clean your stomach.

When he comes back with a wet towel, he can see that you're already fast asleep. He's happy knowing that you'll be able to sleep even if it's only for a few hours.

He can understand your worries and your fears but he wants you to be able to enjoy your wedding too.

Kissing your forehead as he cleans your belly, he sighs softly. "My wife," he breathes, closing his eyes.

"I'll be back later, my love." he promises, tossing the rag back into the bathroom.

Yoongi covers your naked body with the comforter and his heart is thudding in the recesses of his chest with joy.

Just a few more hours and you'll be legally his.

"Remind me why we're playing poker the night before your wedding instead of going out?" Taehyung asks, throwing chips into the center of the green felted table.

"Because there's no pregnant strippers around these parts," Jimin jeers, picking up his beer.

Yoongi sneers at the younger man beside him, elbowing him almost out of embarrassment.

"What? If I could go see a pregnant strip show, believe me, I would."

"We know." everyone replies, rolling their eyes.

"Last time you had a bachelor party, man, that shit was fun." the hotel CEO recalls.

"You had fun." Yoongi reminds him, ashing his cigar.

"Also, aren't you completely smitten with Leena anyway? You want her to have your baby." Namjoon prods, placing his cards down on the table.

Taehyung smirks at his comment, leaning back into his chair and slinging his arm over the lip. "Oh, I'm very happy. She's everything I could possibly want." he affirms, smiling to himself.

"Then why do you want to go to a strip club?" Hoseok adds, throwing chips onto the table.

"Because I like tits. Jesus Christ, just crucify me why don't you!" Tae replies appalled.

Yoongi snorts loudly, clamping his teeth down on his cigar.

He wonders if you're okay, if you've woken up in the past few hours due to his son being so active.

His fingers flex uncomfortably and he's still surprised how much his life has changed in such a small amount of time. He's gone from being a violent, sadistic, narcissistic asshole to being a needy, loving and adoring man. And that's all thanks to you.

You've completely changed the pattern of his DNA and he could never appreciate you as much as you deserve.

"You excited for tomorrow, hyung?" Guk's voice pulls him from his thoughts and he smirks at the younger man.

"Very excited but very nervous." he admits to his group of friends.

"I remember the night of his other wedding. He was so fucking drunk he could barely stand up on his own." Jimin recalls with a laugh.

"I had to hold him up with my shoulder from behind so he didn’t fall backwards." Namjoon adds with a sharp laugh.

Yoongi smirks to himself, looking down at his pocket which holds his wallet. "Well, I'm just glad we don't have to have a repeat of that horrible day again."

"You got lucky dude, not many people find their soulmate when they were an asshole like you were." Hoseok says, pointing at the Kisung CEO.

His sneer is terrifying but probably only to himself as the other men laugh at Hobi's words.

"Y/N completely made him do a 180." Joon concurs.

"I like Y/N noona a lot. She fits in well and she's always optimistic and sweet. We needed someone like her in our lives." Guk beams and your soon-to-be husband seems to glow in their praise.

He loves hearing his friends talk so highly of you. He loves knowing that you're loved for being yourself, especially because you don't know it very often.

He can remember when he first met you, in the back of Seokjin's club. You were sweet and kind but a smart ass and cheeky at the same time. You intrigued him on so many levels and he can remember how badly he wanted to destroy you. But he never would have expected to fall in love with you as earnestly as he has.

And he wouldn't change it for anything in the universe.

"Leena has been putting in so much work for this wedding, you would think it's hers." Taehyung laughs, pulling Yoongi out of his reverie.

"And when are you getting married to her then?" the Kisung CEO inquires, ashing his cigar.

The question seems to stupify the handsome hotel owner, he stutters and shifts awkwardly in his seat trying to reply to the sudden question.

"Jesus, you broke him!" Jimin laughs, clapping his best friend on the back.

Taehyung's cheeks burn bright red and his hand immediately cups the back of his neck out of embarrassment. "I mean I bought a ring. I just haven't thought of anything romantic to y'know… ask her."

Beer goes flying out of Jimin's mouth and the sneer Yoongi gives makes him want to die on the spot.

"Jimin. You're paying for the new felt, you fucking animal." Yoongi gripes, watching Namjoon and Hoseok heartily laugh at the younger man.

"That'll be great! Leena noona is really nice!" Jeongguk cheers, hugging Taehyung happily.

"Thanks…" Tae breathes embarrassed.

Yoongi winks at him and he isn't surprised in the slightest, he knows just how smitten the man is with your best friend.

"Yoongi?"

The voice is gentle and tired. In an instant he's burning out his cigar and waving the smoke away.

"Yeah, baby?" he calls to you, disregarding the others in the library.

"Just checking to see if you were all still here," you murmur, stepping into the library doorway.

You're beautiful in the dim glow of the library's lights and the smile that spreads over his face is heart shatteringly perfect.

"Still here." he beams, padding over to you.

"Okay." you bleat, rubbing your sleep hooded eyes.

"What're you doing up, my dove? You must be so tired." he inquires, pushing hair back behind your ear.

"I'm thirsty. Wanted water." you chirp, pressing your forehead into his chest.

"Okay. Get your water and I'll be up in a few minutes. Alright?" he promises, tipping your chin up with his index finger.

You hum in agreement, starting to yawn.

He chuckles at your sleepy state, kissing your forehead. He pats your backside for good measure before turning to his friends that are seated around the poker table.

"I think it's time to get some rest before the big day tomorrow."

The guys hum in agreement, tossing down their cards and standing up.

"Tomorrow's gonna be great, man. I'm really happy for you." Joon whispers, patting his shoulder as he heads out first.

Yoongi can only agree with a wide smile.

Tomorrow is the start to the rest of his life. And it's perfect, just like you.

Next Chapter ----->

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykrueger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #yoongi x you #ceo!yoongi #ceo!bts #ceo!au #min yoongi #smut #yoongi smut #pregnant smut #bts fic

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

Note

Keefe and Sophie doing finger art, but it gets very messy :)

It hadn't started out as finger painting.

Keefe had had brushes.

But he'd gotten a very nice streak of paint on his hand, and had been struck with an idea.

All great artists get that way, he was sure of it. So this was an excellent sign of his own skill, if own anything. He stared at the now entirely white and green canvas.

Pursed his lips, staring at the blue tube of paint. His hands were coated in green and yellow and brown, mixed together to make a grassy color.

Okay, sue him, he was painting a field.

Actually, don't sue him. He was effectively broke.

He considered his work in progress once again.

Realization struck him. He should have started with the sky. He slapped his forehead, briefly, and then poured out some of the blue paint.

Foregoing paintbrushes altogether, he washed off the paint from his hands and then immediately went into it with gusto.

By the time he was re-doing the now more yellowy grass, Sophie had found him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, curiously.

Keefe glanced at her, not taking his entire focus off his project. "Art."

"I can see that, but you don't have any brushes."

"Does a great artist like me need any, Foster?"

She squinted at him. "I feel like that's a trap."

"It definitely is," He responded, "Can you pour some white? I want to put some clouds in."

Sophie nodded, and poured some white paint.

Thrilled, he globbed some on. "Wanna help?"

Sophie was quiet, for a moment. Then she dipped her fingers in the yellow-green-brown mix he had been using for the grass. "Sure," she said.

Keefe shot her a grin.

They worked together, for a while, their eyes devoted entirely to the project.

Soon, Keefe took a step back. "I think that's almost perfect," he said.

"Really?" Sophie said, startled. "Even with me messing it up?"

Keefe shook his head. "You made it better, Foster."

She grinned, brightly, rubbing her skirt with her messy hands. Keefe yelped. "Foster! Your hands--"

She made an annoyed noise, staring at her multicolored fingers and skirt. "This is all over me, huh?"

He nodded.

"This is your fault," she said, teasingly.

Keefe snorted. "I didn't make you help me--"

She flicked her fingers at him, splattering little flecks of paint onto him.

"Hey!"

She giggled, letting her eyes and face radiate so much joy that he couldn't.

He walked up to her, keeping a comically straight face, and leaned in towards her. Without a warning, he pressed a kiss to her face, and put a hand on her shoulder.

She screeched, in happy-flavored outrage, staring at the mark on her shirt. "Keefe! What the heck! That was an overreaction!"

He tilted his head to the side. "Was it?"

Without another word, she reached for the bottle of white paint, and splashed it straight onto his shirt.

The noise he made was inhuman. She collapsed into giggles, and he may have loved her to death, but this was one of his favorite shirts.

There was only one option, he decided, and scraped some of the paint into his hand and flung it at her. She screeched, and grabbed the red.

Splosh!

She was still grinning. He stared at her, completely afronted for exactly three seconds, and then dove for the blue.

This meant war.

So it went, back and forth, until they were covered in paint. Honestly, Keefe thought, staring at his girlfriend, covered in handprints that were bleeding together in a rush of muddy color, to himself, drenched in every color of the rainbow, they'd probably never looked better.

She streaked her painty hands down his arms, and he shouted something garbled at her, and mushed paint into her hair.

Her brown eyes glowed.

He was so in love with her.

She splatted her wet hands onto his back, and snorted in laughter.

Keefe turned and tried to do the same to her, but tripped and fell and landed in the grass.

Sophie roared in laughter. Keefe scowled up at her, good naturedly. "Now this," he said, "Is your fault."

She stiffled her giggles behind one red and blue hand, and held out her green and yellow hand to him. "Truce?"

Keefe looked at her green and yellow hand, judging for a moment. "Truce," he said, and let her pull him to his feet. Then, immediately, he took the last bottle of paint, the black, and dumped it on her head.

She screeched, and chased him back to Havenfield.

Eventually, thoroughly messy and multicolored, they went inside. Edaline made several very disapproving tutting noises from where she watched them as they entered the house. "You better not get any of that paint on your floor, Sophie!"

Grady told Keefe to shower as far away from Sophie as was physically possible.

In response, Keefe kissed his very very painty girlfriend right in front of her father's scandalized eyes.

And he was promptly chased to the other end of the house by that same father. He locked the door to the bathroom behind him, and didn't come out until he was properly clean.

It was only later that he discovered that some of the flecks of their paint fight had wound up on the finished painting.

He decided he liked it better for that, and hung it up in his room.

#kotlc mini fic #kotlc sokeefe #sokeefe #kotlc keefe #FLUFF #thanks for the ask!#kotlc #keefe sencen #kotlc sophie #sophie foster #i needed this today<3 #kotlc keefoster #keefoster #sokeefe mini fic #fanfic #paint fight!

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nancywheelxr · 3 years

Note

Word of Honor prompt suggestion: WKX and YBY play the drunken ancient Chinese equivalent of Truth or Dare. The situation rapidly escalates from throwing Wolong Nuts to property damage, while a horrified ZZS attempts to restore order. In the end, Gu Xiang smacks both of them down.

anon, i am delighted by this prompt, thank you so much

Zhou Zishu loves having an extended family.

It’s great, so great. Amazing. Really, just lovely. A blessing.

“Who are you calling blind? Twice that distance, it would still land true!”

A blessing. Especially when they all decide to visit at the same time. Lovely surprise, truly. So great. Zhou Zishu is just so happy. Estactic even. Look at him, he’s a shining beacon of happiness.

“Shifu,” Chengling says, frowning up at him from the where he’s supposed to be meditating, “are you alright? You look stressed.”

“What nonsense are you spouting now?” Zhou Zishu snaps, “who’s stressed? If anything, it’s your laziness that’s stressing me!”

Chengling doesn’t look too convinced because, unfortunately, somewhere down the line, the kid seems to have lost all common sense. Personally, Zhou Zishu blames Wen Kexing. “Sorry, sorry, I promise I’m not being lazy,” he grins, eyes going wide and pleading-- another thing, that, personally, Zhou Zishu blames Wen Kexing for. “As soon as we stop hiding, I’ll go back to training!”

“Who’s hiding!” Zhou Zishu takes a deep breath. He’s been told to manage his stress levels. Besides, he’s not stressed. Beacon of happiness. Shining, that’s what he is. This is all fine. “We’re not hiding. We’re meditating away from the mess your Shishu is making with Ye-qianbei.”

Chengling nods once, serious. “A warrior knows when to retreat.”

“That’s not--” He stops himself. Somewhere, probably in the courtyard, there’s a crash loud enough to echo in the room they’re using. This is fine.

“Where would that count? I dared you to strike down that tree, not take a statue’s head!”

“What’s wood compared to stone?! Have you gone senile? Your dare was too stupid to consider, I made it better!”

Wen Kexing is slurring his words already, Zhou Zishu can tell, and it’s with a startling clarity that he can see it in his mind: Wen Kexing, drunk, throwing his fan around the courtyard on a dare, and Ye Baiyi, not drunk, unbothered by the very real risk of someone losing a limb if he deemed it entertaining enough.

They had been throwing those blasted nuts around, the last time Zhou Zishu checked on them. Shooting them around like arrows and leaving dents all over his walls. Then, he had been merely grateful for their unspoken agreement of not ever choosing truth, just in case someone stepped in one of the several emotion landmines scattered in their past-- if anyone starts crying, Zhou Zishu is walking out, he’s decided this very early on.

Well, he supposes, if it’s Wen Kexing, he would probably stick around to sober him up, tears and all, but he’d really rather not.

It was a mistake though, it seems, to leave them unattended for too long. Now the dares have escalated and one of the statues is allegedly missing a head.

So great.

“Stay here,” he tells Chengling, just in case the kid’s luck strikes again, and goes investigate the noises. Following the chaos is always sure to lead him back to Wen Kexing.

The several disciples scurrying away from the courtyard is also a good indicator he’s on the right path.

“Old Monster,” Wen Kexing is saying, and in his arms there’s a large stone that might at some point have been a statue’s head but has been hacked at too much to retain any semblance of its former image. Hacked at too heavily to have been done by a fan, lined with steel or not. Which means-- “I dare you to-- I dare you to cut this in half now!”

“Ha!” Ye Baiyi snorts, sword already unsheated, and there’s a faint flush to his face which is all sorts of terrible because if even Ye Baiyi is a little drunk, then how much have they drunk? And could people, please, stop waving around sharp weapons while inebriated? “You call that a challenge? Brat, I could be in my death bed and that would still be too easy. Don’t waste my time, come up with something better.”

Yeah, no, it’s definitely time for an intervention. “Alright, alright,” he calls, stepping out into the courtyard and promptly tripping over an entire watermelon. What the fuck. “What the fuck?”

“A-Xu!” Wen Kexing grins, waving at him while hugging the head to his chest, and it’s horribly endearing, yes, but also, terrible because Zhou Zishu is trying to hold on to his annoyance. “A-Xu, be careful! I won that fair and square, it’s my prize! Isn’t it good? We can have it after dinner but not the Old Monster, he can’t have it, A-Xu!”

“As if I wanted! It’s probably rotten--”

“Oh, it’s good that you’re here, A-Xu, I’ve missed you, and now you can stand guard on our watermelon!”

Deep breaths. “Where did you get the watermelon?”

“I won it.”

Ye Baiyi scoffs. “You cheated.”

“You won it. From where?”

“No, he cheated,” Ye Baiyi repeats as if speaking to a particularly slow child, “I’ve already told you that, stop making me repeat myself.”

“Don’t listen to him, A-Xu,” Wen Kexing walks over with his stone head, swaying as he goes, “no cheating was involved. Look, isn’t it a good watermelon?”

The question is accompanied with a genuinely distressed look, as if it was of paramount importance that Zhou Zishu agree with him on this, as if the whole world is hanging on this thread, so Zhou Zishu finds himself picking up the damn thing and awkwardly inspecting it around. “Yes, it’s very good.”

Immediately, Wen Kexing spins around, using the statue head to point at Ye Baiyi vindictively, “see? Take that, Old Man! How about it? A-Xu says it’s good, so it’s good, it’s not rotten!”

Well, in truth, it might be a little past its prime, but Zhou Zishu decides to keep that to himself and not think about where it came from anymore. This, he figures, is going to be a problem for Sober Wen Kexing when he wakes up tomorrow. So he places the watermelon back down and steels himself for the task of prying the head from Wen Kexing. “Yes, yes, I’m always right, and now A-Xu is saying it’s time to go to sleep.”

For his troubles, he receives a most betrayed look, “A-Xu, it’s still so early, A-Xiang isn’t even back yet,” something seems to click on his head, “and the Old Monster hasn’t completed the dare!”

Zhou Zishu curses silently. Having deemed Wen Kexing’s ramblings boring, Ye Baiyi had retreated back to the his seat at the table and been about to pour himself some water, but now he perks up again, throwing one of their precious nuts at them. “Come up with a worthy dare, then! Qin Huaizhang’s disciple, bring more wine.”

Hearing this, Wen Kexing rushes forward, waving the statue head. “Don’t change the subject! If you think it’s too easy, how about I throw it in the air first, huh? I dare you, cut it in half before it touches the ground!”

I’m going to have to rebuild this place again, Zhou Zishu realizes with a morose sort of resignation. The manor might have survived the Window of Heavens, but he’s not so sure it’ll survive these two drunk idiots.

This epiphany takes some time to be processed, so Zhou Zishu doesn’t feel too guilty for not noticing Gu Xiang arriving with Cao Weining until they’re at his side, gaping like little dumb fishes at the scene. “Ah, Zishu-ge! Why did you let them get like this!”

“A-Xiang, A-Xiang,” her husband says helplessly, and Zhou Zishu snorts, magnanimously forgiving her slap at his shoulder, “don’t be so harsh, it’s not so bad! Wen-gongzi is...” without anything other than drunk out of his mind to finish his sentence with, Cao Weining trails off.

“What a mess,” she grumbles, “what a mess. You were supposed to keep an eye on them!”

“Me? How am I to do that? Do you think I can grant miracles?”

She hits his shoulder again. “Zishu-ge! You just had to keep an eye on him! That’s the one thing you like doing!”

“A-Xiang!” Cao Weining gasps, grasping at her sleeves to keep her from going for another slap, “Zhou-xiong, we’ll help clean it up, it’s the wine we brought anyway.”

“Pah,” she scoffs, shaking Cao Weining off and marching towards the two still squabbling about how best to throw the statue head, “who’s we? Honestly!”

From their spot by the door, Zhou Zishu watches as Wen Kexing beams at her, saying something too garbled for him to make out, while Ye Baiyi just squints like he’s seeing a new weird-looking bug.

A-Xiang’s screeches are very clearly heard, though. In a minute, she’s prodded and bullied Wen Kexing into giving up the head and poured them both healthy servings of tea, taking advantage of Ye Baiyi’s seemingly internal debate over insulting a little girl to shove the glass at him.

“Huh,” Zhou Zishu says, admittedly impressed. She really is efficient when she wants to be.

“Ah, A-Xiang really is amazing,” Cao Weining sighs in a horrible smitten way, so Zhou Zishu has to fetch and toss the nearest broom at him, on principle. “Ah?”

“It’s very good that Cao-gongzi offered to help,” he smiles, knowing Wen Kexing will laugh about this come morning, “now if you excuse me, this one has a very drunk husband to rescue.”

Feeling very satisfied with himself, he labels the mess a problem for Cao Weining now.

Zhou Zishu loves having an extended family. A blessing, truly.

#woh #shl #woh fanfic #wenzhou fanfic #wen kexing #zhou zishu #gu xiang #ye baiyi #cao weining #woh tag #word of honor #wenzhou tag

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